Jason stops in his tracks in front of a giant tree, staring up at it with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. It’s probably 7 feet tall or so, and probably tall enough to brush the ceiling in your apartment, but it might just work.

“Yeah, we need that one,” Jason says, almost whispering, after a second, still staring at the tree.

You’re about to call over an employee to help you and Jason load it into your car, but before you can, Jason grabs your hand to stop you. “Don’t. I’ve got it. Papa’s getting a workout.”

He bounces from foot to foot for a second and stretches his arms out, hyping himself up to lift the behemoth of an evergreen. “Woo, okay! Let’s f*cking go.”

He grabs the tree by its top and the base of its trunk and lifts it a couple feet off the ground, grinning triumphantly. But the second he tries to hoist it up above his head to show off his muscles to you, his eyes widen in pure fear. Mere milliseconds later, he’s toppling down into a heap on the floor, tree and all.