The contractors looked up at the massive tree. "Look," said the first, "all I'm saying is it feels like a bad idea." She was tall and grizzled, grey in hair and outlook, and her hardhat sat lopsided on her lean head, covering one eye.
"C'mon." The second was short and fat, though he called it muscle. "We cut more wood, boss sells more wood. Boss sells more wood, gets more money, gives us bigger bonuses. You know how it works."
"Yeah, but," she looked up at the tree. "I'd rather cut down a whole forest than get to work on this monster, y'know?"
"Except there ain't no more forests," said short-and-fat. "And this tree's big enough to keep us in business for a couple years, at least. Imagine the prime wood we get off a beast like that!" He gestured wide at the tree looming over them, branches seeming to fill the sky, gnarled roots like hills finding purchase in the ground.
"It's a bad idea," she repeated.
"But you'll do it."
"Then bring the Wolf over," he nodded to the giant harvester, calling it by brand name. "We'll start with the limbs and then bring this sucker down."