When I first heard about The Woodsman’s involvement in the dangerous sport known as “Roof Jumping”, I was alarmed. Not for his safety, but because I wasn’t quite sure how to bet on it.
The Woodsman, known mostly for his technique with shaping wood, is also an accomplished motorcycle stuntman. His motto is, “If it has two wheels, I’ll fuck it.” No one is quite sure what that means.
At any rate, I was onhand to capture the magic. I had hoped to capture a horrific death, but got far less than I bargained for.
To my amazement, instead of booing him for not dying, the crowd cheered. Women lifted their shirts. Or at least that one old lady (who may or may not have been his grandmother) did. Never one to let the spotlight shine on anyone else, I announced that I would not only replicate that jump, but I would do it in a car. And hopefully not die. But maybe. So they should stick around and watch.
The Woodsman was a little too eager to take over the camera duties, and I thought I heard him mutter, “If he survives, slit his throat,” under his breath. But I was not to be deterred. Adrenaline pumping, I thought of how proud Vin Diesel would be if a) he knew I existed, and b) wasn’t a complete douche (I imagine) and revved the engine. My foot shot off the brake and hit the gas pedal like a two-ton heavy thing. As the edge of the roof approached and I realized that The Woodsman or his minions had cut the brakes, I pulled an O’Connor and violently shat myself. But why should I tell you about it when you can watch it for youself (not the shitting — the stunt. I’m saving the shitting footage for a dvd easter egg):
After I landed and brutally murdered The Woodsman’s henchmen, I thought back on what we’d accomplished. Drunk, high, and with pants overflowing with feces, we’d successfully completed the most incredible jump in the history of motorsports. We would be enshrined in the halls of, uh, stuntdom forever, standing alongside Evel Knieval and, um, those other guys.