A tall tale like this could easily be used to determine the age of the reader. It was posted on the groaners listserv, and the author is not known.

My uncle took me with him on a hunting trip to Africa. We were traveling thru a part of the forest heavily populated by banyan trees; those trees that have branches that hang down to the ground, and then take root and grow new trees. The native population had to use machetes to keep the roots trimmed so that the woodland trails would not become overgrown and keep them from chasing the animals down the trails.

One day we found one of the natives, nic-named Charlie, lying at the foot of one of the banyan trees, bleeding profusely. I ran up to the medicine man and asked him what had happened.

“A Wild root creamed ol’ Charlie”.