Another F%$#ing Bear

'Another f$%&ing bear' the man sighed as he took a wood-free sip  then pulled the pull start on his Husky. It fired on the third pull like it always did. 'You gotta put more ass into it!' his Dad would always yell after the 1st or 2nd pull, then laugh to himself, the joke that never got old.

The man took another sip from his likely wood free beer and revved his chainsaw three time, the third really letting it rip.

He took a third sip of beer and laid into the log. Maple, drying for 2 weeks in the sun, still a little buttery.

The man used to cut with headphones in, and try to cut in tune, but realized the chainsaw was the rhythm, the tree was the melody, and this non-stop stream of obscenities was the harmony.

'rrrrrRRRRRRrrrrrr 'you mother fucker!' he tore through a big chunk, creating the bear's signature dad gut.
'weeeRRRRRRRRR 'cunt fuck ass hair!
He was diggin in, cutting the arms aimed toward invisible bear pockets, the neck, the back, and already starting into the furry detail with a few deft side strokes.

He took a long pull on his beer helmet and revved the shit out of the Husky, clearing the chain and knowing damn well he'd be sucking some serious chips soon.

The man cut the ears, the eyes, snout, mouth, and began finishing the finish.

At this point he was laughing like a loon, chips flying, hair, beard, flannel, knuckle hair. Chips everywhere, smoke rising from the wood heating up, he felt like a conductor on meth and acid and the chainsaw his band, the log his audience, carving, slicing, dicing.

It was hours later when the man finished, chainsaw sputtering from a near-dry tank; wood smoking from being cut so hard, a nearby far-off neighbor yelling about the sound, the smoke, and some other bullshit.

The man dropped his saw, his beer helmet, his goggles, hung a $35 dollar sign around the bear's neck and walked it to his spot next to the highway next to his Dad's faded sign advertising Grady's Wood Carving.

'Another fucking beer' he laughed as he walked back to his couch.