A nicely dressed man is sitting in his middle-class dining room eating a bowl of cereal and reading his newspaper when he hears his son crying from the backyard.

Man: Jimmy?

He gets no response.

Man: Jimmy, are you okay?

His son continues to whimper. Concerned, the man jumps up, knocks over his bowl of cereal, and rushes outside. He sees his son sitting on the ground. His back is turned from him and he continues to cry. As the man reaches out to grab him he suddenly jumps in his arms and hugs him.

Man: What’s wrong, Jimmy?

Jimmy: The sun, Daddy! Where’s the sun?

Man: In the sky, of course.

The kid stops crying and looks him dead in the eyes.

Jimmy: …Is it, Daddy?

Man: …What?

Jimmy: Look up.

The kid points up. All he sees are leaves. Tree leaves fluttering ominously in the breeze all deadly silent.

Jimmy: (Whispers) Do you see?

The man continues to scan the forest ceiling. Not a speck of sunlight can be seen. Everything gets darker. He blinks as his expression changes from one of confusion to one of horror. He starts withering to the ground.

Man: Where is the sun, Jimmy?!

Jimmy: Daddy what’s happening!?

Man: The sun, Jimmy! Where’s the sun?!

Jimmy: Stop, Daddy! Stop!

The man pretends to melt into the ground like the Wicked Witch of the West. We stare at the leaves in all uncaring, motionless silence.

All of a suddenly a muscular man with a loud personality breaks through the screen. He’s wearing a black and white business suit with a red tie on. He has a crew cut hair cut.

Big Guy: Hey! Has this ever happened to you?! (pause) Well it happened to me! That was my father. He’s dead! You think that shit’s funny? Well I don’t.

He punches the camera. We go to a new shot.

Big Guy: My name is Fuck Trees Johnson, I’m rich as hell, and I hate trees.

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We cut to another shot with a pop zoom on his face.

Fuck Trees Johnson: And I’m running for government.

We cut to a wide shot. An old timey reporter steps in.

Reporter: Uuh. You’re running for… government?

Fuck Trees knocks him out cold.

Fuck Trees Johnson: That’s right! Next question asshole.

We cut to another close up.

Fuck Trees Johnson: I’m running for government and I want to kill all trees.

We cut to a shot of him screaming as he mows down a tree with a machine gun.

Cut back to his face.

Fuck Trees Johnson: I want ’em dead.

We see a baby tree in the morning forest. A small deer comes up to nibble on it. We see Fuck Trees in the distance watching. Suddenly lots of baby deer come up and ravenously devour the sapling. We hear maniacal laughter in the distance. 

Fuck Trees Johnson: Yes! Yes!

Cut back to his face.

Fuck Trees Johnson: Yes, I hate them that much. And I’ll tell you why!

We cut to a medium shot.

Fuck Trees Johnson: One! They’re breathing all our oxygen.

A scientist comes out.

Scientist 1: Well technically Mr. Johnson trees produce oxygen.

Fuck Trees whips out a pistol and blasts him in the face.

Fuck Trees Johnson: When has science ever done SHIT for us!

Another scientist comes out from a different direction.

Scientist 2: Well technically Mr. Johnson, there’s quite a bit of science involved in even broadcasting this signal.

Fuck Trees whips out a grenade, pulls the pin, and smashes it into Science guy’s mouth as he unloads a shotgun blast to his gut which sends him flying off the screen and exploding.

Fuck Trees Johnson: I ain’t got time for that.

We cut to a close up.

Fuck Trees Johnson: Trees killed my whole family. A paper airplane went through my mother’s face. A sheet of paper cut my sister’s head clean off. Wet toilet paper fell on my kitten and it suffocated to death! (pause) I still remember the look on their faces… Well, not my mom’s face. That was gone. My sister… She was surprised. I was kinda surprised too.

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We see him bare chested with a red bandana a la Rambo and pumping a shotgun.

Fuck Trees Johnson:  This time it’s personal.

We see a map of the world being invaded by red dots.

Fuck Trees Johnson: Trees are growing at an alarming rate and if we don’t do something about it they’ll kill everyone you love.

We start out on a close up of his face and zoom out.

Fuck Trees Johnson: Will you let your children die?

Frightened children run up to him and hold his legs.

The Children: Save us, Fuck Trees!

He whips out a heavy machine gun with an ammo box attached.

Fuck Trees Johnson: Don’t worry children. I gotcha.

We see Fuck Trees majestically floating up from the forest floor, spinning, and mowing trees down in a graceful arc with both his .50-caliber machine guns.

Fuck Trees Johnson: (With a serene demeanor) This is war, people. And the trees are winning. One day they’re in your backyard, the next day they’re in your house, falling on you. Are you going to let this happen? Vote for me for government and we’ll win this war on trees together. Save your children. Save the future. Fuck Trees Johnson.

We see a logo of a tree falling on a bunch of children.

Voice Over: Brought to you by the Fuck Trees Society for Killing Fucking Trees Fuck Them!

And brought to you by viewers like you. PBS. Plants are Bull Shit.

 

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