《Skyrates?!》137. In Which Pamela Has A Conversation With An Old Tree
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It’s a notehbook.
“I guess it is. Maybe I ought to have asked, why are you giving me a notebook?”
So thaht you don’t hahve to mutilahte theh bodiehs of my pehopleh to makeh your drawings.
“But, um,” Pamela squinted at the notebook so as to insure that it was indeed made out of paper, “But, this is made out of paper.”
I don’t seeh theh issueh.
“Paper? Which is made out of trees? Felled trees? I mean, giving me a notebook made out of trees to write on has got to be worse for your people than me using a leaf, most of which fall on their own accord and don’t often require the death of an entire tree to obtain, doesn’t it?”
Leht’s…ehrm…leht’s not strehss ovehr theh dehtails, alright?
“Okay then,” Pamela shrugged, flipping through the pages of the notebook and smelling the fresh paper with pleasure. “This is very well bound.”
Thanks. That’s, ehrm, that’s a niceh lockeht you’veh got thehreh.
“Oh, um, thanks,” Pamela glanced down at her locket and tucked it away, blushing, “So, well, uh,” Pamela started drawing the enormous tree, and had already started putting plentiful pairs of naked breasts all over her rough rendition, “Why exactly am I here?”
You wehreh summonehd hehreh by Vehra, so that you might leharn about plants and hopehfully beh curehd of your apparehnt…plantism.
“I gathered that much, but, how exactly is seeing a giant tree going to accomplish that?”
If you knehw anything about plants at all, thehn you’d alrehady know theh answehr to that quehstion.
“Okay, but I obviously don’t.”
You’reh a difficult oneh, miss…I’m assuming it’s miss…
“You’re right, I’m not married.”
That’s not rehally what I mehant, but okay.
“What did you mean, then?”
It’s not important.
“If it wasn’t important why did you ask me?”
I just didn’t want to misgehndehr you.
“So you’re saying misgendering people isn’t important?”
No! That’s not what I mehant.
“If that’s not what you meant then what did you mean?”
I mehant it wasn’t important behcause I alrehady knehw you wehreh a miss at that point so theh quehstion was irrehlehvant.
“How did you know I was a miss at that point?”
Behcauseh you said so!
“When did I say so?”
Whehn you said you wehrehn’t marriehd!
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“What does being married have to do with gender identity? Do you think that since I’m a woman I ought not to be able to be married or something?”
What?! That’s absurd!
“I know! That’s why I was so up in arms when you suggested it, it was very shocking.”
I think you’reh misintehrprehting what I’m saying.
“I sure hope so. For both our sakes. I’d think that a well dressed tree such as yourself would be on the forefront of transgenderism. And marriage. And social issues, in general, what with your leaves and all.”
Comeh again? Transgehndehrism?
“Yes, come on now, haven’t you ever taken a social sciences course? Transgenderism, also known as the crossing from the plane of the gendered, where genders are set in stone like dental molds, into the plane of the ungendered, where there is no such barrier as gender and all people of all varying genders are all just kind of there hanging out. I wrote a paper on it in business school. It’s essential for businesses to adopt a model of trangenderism for a number of reasons, but I don’t want to talk your ears—erm, excrete me—talk your bark off or whatever.”
Okay, the tree took a moment to parse all of this information. Thank you for that, miss.
“You’re welcome. I’m always happy to help educate.”
Now, on the subjehct of plants.
“Oh, here we go again,” Pamela chuckled and rolled her eyes.
It’s not a jokeh, plants areh sehrious businehss. Do you know what I am?
“A tree?”
No.
“You’re not? You look an awful lot like a tree.”
Wehll, I mehan, I am a treeh. It’s just, I’m moreh than—
“Wait a second. One minute you aren’t a tree, and then suddenly you are? What’s that supposed to mean? Were you lying earlier when you said you weren’t a tree? I’ll remind you, I am an officer of the Loyal Gourd.”
I am a treeh! I misspokeh! I’m a treeh, okay?
“Excellent. ‘Is a tree.’ I’ll make a note of that,” Pamela smiled as she drew a large phallus in place of a tree branch.
But I’m not just a treeh. You seeh, I’m a grandmothehr treeh.
“A grandmother tree, you say? That sounds a little gendered, but I’ll allow it.”
Thanks, I guehss.
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“So, what exactly do you mean when you say you’re a grandmother tree? Do you have a bunch of little grand saplings growing around here somewhere?”
Tehchnically, I guehss. But that’s not rehally what I mehan whehn I say I’m a grandmothehr treeh.
“Well then what do you mean when you say you’re a grandmother tree?”
What I mehan whehn I say I’m a grandmothehr treeh is that I am, ehssehntially, theh hehart of this wholeh forehst.
“Huh. Now that’s a claim. You must have quite the ego on you, being the heart of the whole forest, eh?”
Not rehally. It’s actually prehtty difficult to maintain my own ehgo what with all the tehlehpathic communications I rehciehveh throughout the day to day.
“Telepathic communications? You mean like from this thing?” Pamela pulled out the vine from her butt cheek to present it before the grandmother tree.
SQEEEEEET
White, glucosey muck shot everywhere, coating Pamela’s hand and face. The vine withered into a wrinkly husk.
“Hello? Grandmother tree?” Pamela held the withering vine up higher, as if the tree trunk were an enormous eyeball, “Is this where you get the telepathic communications from?”
Pamela stood there in silence, wondering why the grandmother tree had ceased to answer her. She found herself growing quite irked and indignant.
“This is incredibly rude, you know! Hen, I’ll also have you know that since the Great Law Revisionings of 00169 people under questioning by members of the Royal Gourd no longer have the right to remain silent! And just because I’m a member of the Loyal Gourd and not the Royal Gourd doesn’t mean I can’t retroactively file an injunction on you for not answering me!”
And yet, despite all of this, Pamela was still yelling at an unresponsive tree in a polka dot skirt. After her tongue grew sore and her lips grew chapped, Pamela sat down and took a deep breath. Upon the exhalation of this deep breath another vine shot against Pamela’s posterior and clamped down brilliantly, causing her to nearly asphyxiate on her own saliva as she jolted to her feet in shock.
Sorry about that, I had to grow anothehr vineh rehal quick to talk to you since you killehd my othehr oneh.
“Are you trying to guilt me? That sounded almost like you’re trying to guilt me?”
Not at all. It just takehs a lot of ehnehrgy and loveh and timeh to makeh thehseh tehlehpathic vinehs is all. Theh’re truly a miracleh, and miraclehs oftehn takeh timeh.
“You’re definitely trying to guilt me.”
Areh all mehmbehrs of the Royal and Loyal and whatehvehr othehr Gourds thehreh might beh as dehfehnsiveh as you?
“Unfortunately no, though many strive to be. It’s actually what got me into the Royal Gourd, my defensiveness that is. They said they didn’t have enough members of the Gourd that were even half as defensive as I was. Why, I got a perfect score on my defensiveness exams. Yes, that’s right, both the written and the field exams. Did you know I’m the first one in twenty years that can claim that? And they demoted me to Loyal Gourd. Disgrossting, the whole thing.”
So…do you feehl undehrapprehciatehd as a mehmbehr of the Loyal Gourd? Likeh your talehnts areh going to wasteh?
“Oh, hen yes I—wait a second! I’m the one asking questions here!”
Vehry wehll. What’s your next quehstion?
“Well, I was thinking I’d ask you—hey! That was another question! stop asking me questions!”
Okay.
“Now, where were we, where were we…hmmm…” Pamela squinted, her eyes tracing the contours of vulvas and eyeballs and exposed nipples and taped nipples and tassled nipples drawn across the fresh first pages of her new notebook, nodding rhythmically, “Aha! So, you say you communicate with all of the trees in this forest telepathically, not unlike how you communicate with me telepathically?”
Yehs. I figurehd weh’d covehrehd that by now.
“Well we hadn’t, but now we have. I guess now that I know that, I ought to ask you the real question I’ve had on my mind the whole time.”
Oh, theh quehstion you’veh had on your mind theh wholeh timeh about why I brought you hehreh?
“Wha—How’d you know that was the question I’ve had on my mind the whole time?!”
Um, behcauseh it’s beehn on your mind theh wholeh timeh.
“I don’t get it.”
And weh’re communicating tehlehpathically. So I can hehar you thinking about it.
“You can hear my thoughts?”
That’s part of tehlehpathy.
“So why have I even been talking out loud to you?”
Cluck if I know.
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