I’m renting a nice car, which means that when I run errands I look for the long way to go from point A to point B, and in one of these excursions on a backroad I encountered a squirrel who was lollygagging his way across the street. Initially everything was going to be fine, as I quickly assessed the situation and decided to turn opposite of the squirrel’s initial trajectory, but then he caught sight of me and took evasive action, which ironically set him into the path of my evasive action. I was expecting certain death, but upon closing the distance nothing happened. I heard nothing: no sad thud. I looked in the review mirror to assess his state, and I saw nothing. I figured this ordeal was over, and that I would have to live never knowing with certainty what happened to that squirrel. I figured wrong.
Apparently, the squirrel, with the reflexes of a ninja that has reflexes like a cat, which is not unlike the reflexes of a squirrel, jumped up into a space in the engine compartment of my car, and there he planned his revenge upon his would be assassin. This is truly unfortunate, as his whole motive for revenge was based upon a misperception, as he mistook my evasive action (which I calculated in response to his initial trajectory) as an intention to strike him down. When I finally arrived home, and stepped out of the car, he, with those ninja-cat-squirrel-like reflexes, dislodged himself from the engine compartment and made a straight line toward me, up one of my pant legs, and right toward my most sensitive area, where he attacked with preternatural ferocity, and quickly brought me to the ground. Immediately I balled my right hand into a fist to bring down wrath and weight upon the squirrel, who, with those same ninja-cat-squirrel-like reflexes moved out of my pants and toward my head, and thus upon bringing down wrath I racked myself to the degree that my stomach and chest severely cramped and thereby greatly impairing my ability to breathe. Now, in my vulnerable state, the squirrel continued his preternatural rampage and had his way with my face, neck, and shoulders, and subjected me to an eternity of scratching and biting (Einstein is right about Relativity), all punctuated by the most heinous string of expletives, which decency prevents me from recounting. (Squirrels, though quite cute, have souls as black as midnight during a new moon.) Once the demons of revenge had been vented from his soul the squirrel promptly stopped, and skipped away.
God forgive me for speaking so crassly and thinking so unkindly of one of his creatures, but that squirrel was a mean bastard with an exponent of ten. Regarding the purpose of this post, I guess it’s part therapy, as I am venting the wounds of my soul even as I patiently wait for the wounds of my body to heal. Also, I want to warn my fellow brothers and sisters of the human race to not be taken in by the cute, furry exterior of these ferocious little monsters.