I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay.
Buffy: "You're going to be a what?"
Angel: "A lumberjack."
Buffy: "Is this some ancient Irish dream I didn't know you had?"
Angel: "I need a career change. But I still get to carry an ax."
Buffy: "But what about fighting evil? You're a champion, Angel. A lot of people count on you. Plus, don't forget, there's that whole prophecy thing."
Angel: "Apparently 'shanshu' can also mean, 'to chop wood'."
Buffy: "And you still have faith in Wesley's translations?"
Angel: "A new edition of the Proto-Bantu dictionary came out. Threw a lot of prophecies out of whack. By the way, you might not want to leave the house next Thursday. Something about rain, eels. I didn't catch all the details--"
Buffy: "Angel! Focus. What do you even *know* about lumberjacking? You've never even studied...trees."
Angel: "I contemplated a fir once."
Buffy: "And now you want to chop its harmless neck."
Angel: "Not all trees are harmless. I've met some biters."
Buffy: "You realize they're going to make you wear plaid? I'm pretty sure that's obligatory."
Angel: "Plaid? That's...disturbing. No one told me that."
Buffy: "And denim. Lots of denim. Oh, and boots! With cleats."
Angel, pensively: "This is starting to sound kind of gay."
Buffy: "Right, and fighting evil, so *not* gay. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. Except you, not gay. ... Right?"
Angel: "Not recently. Of course, Cordelia once had this idea to outfit us all in spandex. Tights. Capes."
Buffy: "Mental image."
Angel: "Yellow."
Buffy: "Bad mental image. How'd you talk her out of it?"
Angel: "Gunn shot her. It was just a Nerf gun, but--"
Buffy: "Angel, please tell me you're not going to lumber off and jack up trees and--and wear plaid and live off squirrel's blood!"
Angel: "I guess I could rethink the career change."
Buffy: "Thank you."
Angel, musing: "I mean, there's always lion-taming."
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