"The world is coming to an end." I pushed the oil rags and cigarette butts off the seat of my friend Arne's old pickup truck and climbed in. He threw the truck into gear, gunned the engine, and smirked. "What's the point of being a fairy if you can't wave a magic wand and get shit done?" Yeah, I'm a fairy. No, not that kind. I let a half mile of clear-cut rumble past the window while I thought about my crappy mood, contemplating the butchered landscape...