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Dust Raven

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One day a city stockbroker decides he has just had too much. Too much stress, too much of the big city, too much everything. So he quits his job, gives up his apartment and rents out a cabin in the middle of the wilderness. For six months he lives in tranquillity and isolation. Then, one day, there is a knock at the door.

He opens the door to see this huge lumberjack with a giant beard shuffling from foot to foot nervously. Eventually the big man speaks:

“I’m yer neighbor from the cabin about a mile down the road. Anyhow, I’m having a party on Saturday and I wondered if you’d like to come.”

The guy pauses for a second and then replies: “You know what, that would be great. It is about time I got out and it would be nice to meet some new people. I’d love to come.”

“Right,” says the lumberjack, looking a little relieved. “I’ll see you about eight o’clock on Saturday then.” And then he turns to leave.

But he pauses for a second and then turns back: “I should probably warn you, there is gonna be some pretty heavy drinking.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s OK. I used to drink quite a bit myself back in the city, so I think I’ll be alright with a bit of hard liquor.”

“Right then,” says the big man. “Well, eight o’clock then.”

But as he turns to go he pauses again and turns back: “Yeah, I should also mention: most likely there will also be a bit of fighting before the evening finishes.”

“Uh, well, OK,” the guy replies. “I mean, I get on pretty well with most people so I don’t see that being a problem. But if it gets rough, then I am sure I can take care of myself.”

“Right then,” says the big man. “See you at eight o’clock then.”

But once again he pauses and turns back, scratching his beard: “So I probably also need to tell you: there might be some pretty wild sex.”

The guy perks up a bit at that. “Well, you know, we are all consenting adults. And after all this time out here alone, I don’t think I’d have any problem with some intimate company if that’s what happens.”

“OK then,” says the man. “Well, see you Saturday.” And with that he turns and starts to stroll away.

“Oh wait, just one question,” says the guy. “What should I wear?”

The lumberjack pauses to think, and scratches his beard again. “I don’t suppose it really matters much. It’s just gonna be you and me.”

 

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