The scene is set at a night party where Holly and Cypress are gossiping in the corner.
Holly: The maples are always crying. What saps!
Cypress: They aren’t as bad as Willow. There she goes weeping again.
Holly: By the way, stay away from Hazel. She’s a nut.
Cypress: See him over there? Don’t waste your time. You can’t make him hard. He’s got a cotton wood.
Cypress: And that seedy guy who just walked in? I think he’s yew gross.
Holly: Did you hear about Sycamore? He just got over that illness and is sick-no-more.
Cypress: Healthy or not, he’s still a flake.
Holly: Oh great, and here come the showoffs Pear, Peach, Orange, and Apple. They always bare their fruit.
Cypress: I prefer them to Ms. Ornamental over there. She’s a beech.
Cypress: Oh, and look! There’s old Blue. He sure knows how to spruce up. He never seems to age.
Holly: That’s because he’s evergreen.
Cypress: Whatever the reason, I can’t help but pine for him.
Holly: So that’s why you have your cones on display tonight.
Enter Blue Spruce and Boxelder, the good ole boys who are always up for a laugh.
Blue Spruce: Excuse me ladies, can we get through? It’s not nice to box your elders in.
Boxelder: Who are you calling old? You’ve aged so much I almost thought you were Silver!
Blue Spruce: Hey Box, what did one Oak say to the other Oak while going through the buffet line?
Boxelder: I don’t know, what?
Blue Spruce: “‘ey, corn!”
Boxelder: Hah! Speaking of nuts, look who’s coming. Hey Wally, hey Ches, put your nuts away. You’re making the rest of us look bad!
Enter Walnut and Chestnut, flamboyant.
Walnut: If you think our nuts are something, you should see our wood.
Chestnut: Yeah, it’s in even higher demand!
Walnut: Come on, let’s go get a drink.
Change scene to the bar, tended by Birch.
Birch: Wally, Ches, what’ll ya’ have?
Chestnut: Whatever you have on tap is fine.
Walnut: Here comes Cypress. That girl sure can hold her drink.
Chestnut: Unlike that guy. Hey Birch, you’d better check on him.
Birch: Whoa fella, I’m going to have to cut you off. You’re looking a little red, bud.
Cypress: What’s with him?
Birch: He’ll be okay. He’s just not very hardy.