“I’m done,” she said, “Get rid of him!”

“I don’t think so angel,” he said, “It’s too hot out there.”

“What, are you going to wait until he destroys something here?” she replied.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said.”It involves a saw — but no small pieces.”

The next day he was out back, with a sawzall, hooked up to an eight inch blade with big teeth. There was some screaming, bit of sawing, and some digging, and some more sawing.

He came back in the house.

“What?” she said.

“Done!” he answered.

“I don’t see a body,” she said looking out back.

“I cut off his legs,” he said.

“Hum,” she wondered, “Do you think that will do it?”

“Next week,” he said, ” I hired a guy to take off his head.”

“Who do you think you are, God?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” he said, “and anyway, he’ll still have a trunk.”

“Freakin’ Ficus!” she said.

“Like men,” he mused, “better pruned!”


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