Dennis swept the hair hanging in his eyes back over his forehead and confidently bragged he had the issue all solved with his automatic wood splitter
“Bought a new splitting mall with a fiberglass handle, for the Little Woman,” he stated as he sucked in another mouthful of high test and then looked cautiously over his shoulder to make sure there were no tale carriers within earshot who might report his musings to the wrong source. Sorry Dennis.
Then Pickle who is a self confessed expert on all things wooden, launched into an enthusiastic description of his new wood splitter, his most recent treasure from the last auction sale.
“I tell you, you can hardly believe how slick it works,” he explained, waving his toast around, splattering peanut butter and jam on his neighbours.
“Easy! Easy!” caution Kayak as he dabbed the condiments off his sleeve, then polished his fingers with a quick lick.
Pausing only to bite, chew, slurp and swallow Pickle continued, “ She’s got these two rollers you just drive one rear wheel of your vehicle on, slap her in gear, and it drives this big tapered screw. You slap the edge of a block of wood up against the end of that screw and she pulls herself into the wood, splitting it slicker ‘n a whistle.”
Incredulous glances were exchanged around the table as Pickle pushed back from the table to grab the coffee pot and make the refill rounds. As he settled back into his spot, a barrage of questions greeted him.
“How does she handle that twisty old elm?” wondered Kayak.
“Isn’t it dangerous? Remember, safety first” quizzed Ike.
“What kind of gas mileage do you get during that operation?” asked Wally.
“How much power does it take? Can you use a front wheel drive?” added Steve.
“One at a time,” ordered Pickle holding up a firm hand, before answering the torrent.
“Yes it splits that old, twisty elm. Just give ‘er a little more throttle,” he stated with authority.
“Danger is relative. Just look at what happened to Ziggy when he tried swinging a splitting mall under the clothesline. It bounced back, broke his jaw, and stopped him from laughing and talking for better than two weeks,” advised Pickle, pausing as the whole table reflected on that period of unusual silence.
“I don’t see a single reason why you couldn’t run ‘er with the front wheel drive car,” advised Pickle sagely.
“Whoa! Don’t try it with a car with traction control. She’ll kick in and take off an’ you might have to skid ‘er outta the creek or you may even put it through the wall of the garage,” warned Dennis, his mechanical prowess coming to the forefront.
“Hmmm. Never thought of that,” mused Pickle, “ My kid brother Gherkin at Hooterville was going to try it today with his 4-wheel drive, and I think he’s got posi-trak in that rear diff.”
“I better scoot out there before he takes out the dairy barn and half the herd,” he stated, hurriedly pushing back his chair, and exiting the Bakery. Was he worried about a few stray splinters from his new wood splitter?
