Occam's Chainsaw

Wilbur was just choppin' away at that tree when the guys showed up. For a while they just watched, but then Little Jake just had to butt in, like always.

"Wilbur," said Little Jake, "if you keep choppin' like that, that tree is gonna fall right on top of your house. I'd really hate for that to happen, so you should either stop or chop it a different way."

"Horse piddle," said Wilbur. "I know how to chop down a tree."

"Um, I'm sure you do," said Little Jake diplomatically, "but I've been studyin' loggin' for years, and that really is gonna crush your house ... probably."

"Aw, what do you know about it?" scoffed Alex. "You a gummint spy, tryin' to take away our loggin' rights?"

"You gay or somethin'?" sneered Freddie.

"He just wants the lumber for himself," opined Wilbur, giving the tree a final whack.

"I'm telling you the truth," insisted Little Jake. "I can tell from the angle."

And all the guys had a big, snortin' guffaw at Little Jake's expense. As the tree tottered, swayed, and obliterated Wilbur's house.

"Dang!" cried Wilbur in surprise. "Nobody could've predicted that!"

"Um, I think I did," said Little Jake. But no one was listening.

"That there's a judgment from God!" exclaimed Freddie. "Only possible explanation! Cos you people tolerate fags!"

"I don't tolerate no fags!" protested Wilbur. "Why me?"

"No, no," interjected Alex. "That ain't it. It's the gummint! They got a secret ray that makes trees fall on people's houses!"

"If it's so secret," asked the aggrieved Wilbur, "how come you know about it?"

"Simplest explanation," nodded Alex sagely, tapping his nose with his finger.