Hear me, spirits of the departed, I am Madame DeBambouzle, reaching across the Styx to commune with you!

Ah, yes… I’m sensing a presence. I see a tall figure. Does anyone have a departed loved one who is very tall? No? Are you sure? I’m getting… a name… Woody? Does anyone know a Woody who might be trying to reach us from beyond? No?

Woody, who are you? Why are you, a spirit of the dead, making yourself known to us in the world of the living? Woody? He’s not saying anything. I need everyone to join hands and be very still. Woody? Maybe he’s a mute.

Ah, wait! I’m seeing… Oh, my! Woody, were you… I’m sensing that Woody was the victim of violence! Killed right here on this spot, in this meadow! With… an axe? Woody, is that right? Speak up, Woody, please.

Are you guys all sure you don’t know a Woody? Kind of a sappy fellow? And… OK, I’m sensing that maybe Woody kept birds, is that right? And that he might have been in the paper business? Or, wait… now I’m sensing he was involved in some kind of shady operation. Is that how you ended up being killed by a hatchet, Woody? Woody, you have to meet me halfway here, come on, pipe up. Woody?

OK, it’s no use, I’m stumped.

Wear this shirt: on walks in the wooooooooods.

Don’t wear this shirt: to Sunday School. We don’t want to have that whole debate AGAIN about whether plants have souls.

This shirt tells the world: “If you cut me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.”

We call this color: Cut Grass

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