What the fuck guys

This letter was delivered by a squirrel named Jackson. After we caught him vandalizing a tree trunk he kindly offered this letter to the writers for the Squirrel. He claimed it was from the tree he was vandalizing. Thank you Jackson, for making this possible. 

Dear Reader,

I hope you're enjoying this issue of the Squirrel so far. I am not. I am in agonizing pain for eternity all because some college kids wanted to publish a funny magazine. But do you see me laughing?

Since the writers were forced to give me a platform (after I complained to their advisor) I’ll tell you about my life. I hope that maybe it’ll make you think twice before printing something out again. I’m pretty sure your professor will accept an online PDF of whatever you’re trying to do. 

My name is Chris Pine and I used to live in a beautiful forest surrounded by my friends and family. I was just living my life when suddenly I felt a chainsaw tearing through my body at full throttle until suddenly I was on my side being chopped into pieces by a guy without a high school diploma. Hands-down the most humiliating experience of my whole life! They left my stump there for the whole world to see. Do you know what happens to your stump when they leave it there? The other trees pay the animals to draw dicks on it! My beautiful stump is now probably covered in obscene graffiti all because you motherfuckers need a physical copy of every goddamn thing.

Honestly, you humans have gotten to the point where you don’t need paper anymore! Everything can be done on the computer! To those reading on https://susquirrel.wixsite.com/thesquirrel, I thank you, but it will never erase my pain. Nothing will.

I can only hope that the Lorax will come to my forest and rebirth me. Who knows if that’ll happen though, since that treehugger didn’t even speak for me like he said he would. He only cares about those Truffula trees, but that’s just because it’s Truffula Tree History Month (never forget). Until that day arrives, I am trapped in purgatory- forever feeling the torment of being shredded in a wood chipper, beaten to a pulp, smeared on a sheet, then cooked into paper, just for a college student to crash out about the InDesign formatting. Seriously, it was pathetic. They sobbed at the finished product and screamed, “Why don’t you look right?!” Maybe because I’m a fucking tree! What the hell even is InDesign?

You know, I was a good tree. I swallowed all that excess carbon dioxide you humans emit, even though you know it’s bad for you. I gave you oxygen. I’m the only reason you haven’t all died because of global warming. My only solace is that when you all burn in the heat death of the universe, I will have been long gone, and you’ll know it’s because I- Chris Pine, wasn’t there to save you. All because you wanted a satire magazine. Well, laugh it up motherfuckers. I hope you all choke on a cow fart.

Peace and love,

Chris Pine