Never cut down a holly tree, or witches will enter your home

[Scene: A chilly autumn morning in a quiet English village. Emily and James are standing in Emily’s garden, staring at a large holly tree beside her shed.]

Emily: (frowning)
James, don’t you dare even think about cutting that holly tree. You know what they say — “Never cut down a holly tree, or witches will enter your home.”

James: (raising an eyebrow)
Oh, come on, Emily. It’s not a witch’s Airbnb. It’s just a tree! Look at it — half of it’s dead, and the other half’s poking through your shed roof.

Emily:
That’s exactly why you should leave it alone. Holly trees are sacred. My gran always said they keep evil spirits away. If you chop one down, the protection breaks — and that’s when witches can come in.

James: (smirking)
So you’re saying witches are just waiting around for someone to chop a tree before they move in? What do they do, get a notification? “Emily’s cut her holly — time to invade!”

Emily: (crossing her arms)
Laugh all you like, but remember what happened to the Thompsons down the road? They cut theirs last winter. Two weeks later, their boiler exploded, their cat ran away, and Mrs. Thompson broke her wrist. Coincidence? I think not.

James: (trying not to laugh)
Emily, please — the boiler was twenty years old, the cat’s a known escape artist, and Mrs. Thompson slipped on ice because she was wearing slippers outside. That’s not witchcraft; that’s poor life choices.

Emily: (huffing)
You and your “science” explanations. You can’t measure everything with your little thermometer and logic. Some things are just… mystical.

James:
True. But trees don’t have magical anti-witch force fields. The reason people said holly trees were protective is probably because they stay green in winter — a symbol of life and endurance when everything else looks dead. It gave people hope.

Emily: (softening slightly)
That does sound… kind of nice.

James:
Exactly. Back then, people didn’t understand biology or weather cycles. So they wrapped meaning around things that looked strong — like holly. It’s psychology, not sorcery.

Emily: (defensive again)
Still, it’s been here since before I moved in. I’d feel guilty chopping it down. What if Gran’s right and witches do come?

James: (grinning)
If witches show up, I’ll buy them tea and biscuits and ask them to fix your boiler.

Emily: (laughs despite herself)
You’re ridiculous.

James:
I’m serious! I’ll even let them hex my Wi-Fi — can’t get much worse anyway.

Emily: (sighing)
Fine. But if anything strange happens after you touch that tree, you’ll be the one explaining it to the witches.

James: (grabbing his gloves)
Deal. Though if I start floating tonight, I’ll text you before I rise to the ceiling.

Emily: (smiling)
Text me? The witches won’t let your phone work. Everyone knows that.

James: (chuckling)
Then I suppose we’ll finally have evidence.

[They both laugh as James starts trimming the branches carefully, while Emily watches nervously — half-expecting a broomstick to swoop past the shed.]