Congratulations on Communicating with the Woodland Creatures!

When people think of communing with woodland creatures they think of young women with flowers decorating their hair, singing songs about boys and learning about how sex works by watching squirrels fuck. Well, that’s not what’s going to happen today. Today you’re going to head into the woods, not looking the learn the lessons that most young women get from handsome princes that you received from a Tijuana whorehouse between the ages of twelve and sixteen but looking for the money that asshole boyfriend you pulled a bank job with buried so many months ago.

You’ll happen upon your first woodland creature, a deer, and pull out a nine-milimeter pistol. You’ll place it against the deer’s leg and look it in the eye.

“Where’s my money?” you’ll ask calmly. The deer will shrug, like he doesn’t know what’s going on. You’ll shake your head at him and sigh. “Wrong answer.”

Then you’ll fire a bullet into his femur, lodging it in the bone. The deer will shriek.

“Jesus Christ, lady! Jesus!” he’ll shout, struggling to stand.

“Do I look serious now, asshole?” The deer will nod, his eyes wide with fear.

“I don’t know where your asshole boyfriend dropped the stash, but the Woodland Council does. Just don’t fucking kill me, man. I’ll do whatever you want!”

You’ll smile and load the deer into your car, where he’ll direct you to the Woodland Council. Then you’ll bring the deer before them. The deer will plead for his life, plead for them to give you the money for his own sake, but the Woodland Council didn’t get to be the Woodland Council by listening to pussy ass pleas. They’ll have the deer taken away to be “dealt with” and then hear your case.

You’ll lay out the months you spent planning and executing your deft heist, the way you sucked that security guard’s dick while your boyfriend quietly murdered all of his friends. You’ll talk at length about the time you spent planning, resolving how to invest your share of the money, how you killed that cop outside the bank and how you crashed your car into a river during the getaway. Then you’ll recount the way your boyfriend staunchly refused to give you your due, telling you that women “are bad with money.” Then you’ll detail what you did to him afterwards, and the way he laughed as he bled out, dying with the secret of where the money was hidden.

The woodland animals will listen solemnly, weighing your case carefully before finally a raccoon will rise from his adorable tree stump and speak.

“We have this information. But we require a task. A hunter besets our woods. He must be dealt with.”

You’ll nod solemnly and head home to prepare. Which is how you’ll end up on a corner tonight, dressed like a hooker with a knife rammed in the back of your halter top despite having a MFA in studio art.

Congratulations on Communicating with the Woodland Creatures!