"The Apostrophe Protection Society."

All of the rampant trees said this in immediate unison, and then proceeded to look towards the heavens, a weird, insane-seeming look in their [nonexistent] eyes.

They all set down the torches that had proven their cannibalism, setting the grass below into a high, impossible blaze of fire. I pointed cautiously towards the ground, a bit nervous of the consequences of this situation. They didn't seem to notice, though, and threw a crown of laurel leaves at my head. Somehow, it managed to latch onto my now greenish hair, making me resemble a tree even more than I did before, considering that at this point, I was a tree nymph.

One of the trees, who I think was that annoying one who sang red-balloon poetry, ripped a blade of flaming grass out of the ground (I winced; it must have been so painful for the grass) by mysterious means, and threw it at Lincoln's former log cabin, setting it on fire and burning it to a crisp.

"NO!" I cried with misery, for Lincoln had always been one of my role models, and to see his childhood home go down in flame was just excruciating. I started skipping around the cabin with joy, hands waving in the air, and I suddenly found that flowers came out of my fingertips, something that alarmed me somewhat. These flowers seemed to have fire-extinguishing properties, because when they came into contact with the burning wood of the cabin, they literally erased the flames, making everything exactly as it was before.

"I thought you were part of the union!" the irritating tree cried.

"I thought you didn't support the killing of humans and torture of their possessions!" I

"I never said anything about possessions, silly tree-nymph-girl!"

You see, this is why I cringe at the sight of a weeping willow.

"Hey, weren't you that girl who offended me by calling me an 'it'?" the tree continued.

"It was a very satisfying moment in my life, as a matter of fact," I replied with a hint of sarcasm.

This is how I, once again, managed to be chased by a mob of insane trees while being in existence as a tree nymph. Then, a spark struck me.

"I thought trees can't walk."

"That might be a good point, if you weren't such a sarcastic, snobby, annoying brat of a tree-nymph…"

I waved my fingertips at the crowd of angry cannibalistic trees, and a shower of colorful flora sprung upon them, making their roots, which had up until now served as feet, grow back into the ground, rooting them in place. They all waved their branches miserably but in vain, because they seemed to have stiffened.

I skipped away, leaving a trail of lilies behind my every step and extinguishing the charred grass that had filled the sky with smoke, hearing green leaves rustle in spite behind me.

And then I noticed that there wasn't a sky anymore. Instead, there were 249 blue ceiling tiles. A red balloon had gone afloat amidst the tiles, and now leaned against the 248th one.