I could hear the woodpecker tapping the tree

his rhythmic drumming rang through the forrest

I stealthily walked towards the noise

pausing every time he took a break from hammering

I knew he was close by when the noise got louder

struggling to get a visual location on him

I searched higher in the trees and eventually spotted him

dressed in his best tuxedo outfit

sporting a ridiculous bright red mohican haircut

clinging firmly to the tree bark

jack hammering a hole into the trunk in search of a tasty grub 

all that hammering must be damaging for his woodpecker brain

he probably goes to the woodpecker doctor

complaining about persistent woodpecker headaches

the doctor lectures him about limiting his woodpecker pecking time 

no more than forty minutes a day

or you will end up with permanent woodpecker brain damage

try foraging on the ground like all the other birds

and you should give up smoking too

the woodpecker nods a fake approval as the doctor writes a woodpecker prescription

he pops a few woodpecker headache pills and flies back to a tree trunk

he spends the rest of the day hammering holes in search of a snack

then goes out drinking that evening with his woodpecker buddies

telling tall woodpecker tales of the enormous grubs he uncovered today

he rejects a woodpecker cigarette saying he has quit smoking

his woodpecker buddies make fun of him

he orders another woodpecker beer starts smoking again

the next morning he wakes up with a huge woodpecker hangover

he lays in bed smoking a woodpecker cigarette while checking his woodpecker emails

swallowing a double dose of woodpecker headache pills before flying to the nearest tree

his woodpecker brain rattles as he hammers away in search of his woodpecker breakfast

I am getting a headache just watching him