funny article 'The Angry Squirrel'

Somebody sent me this today. Thought y'all might enjoy it.

The Angry Squirrel

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect...

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and
slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot
out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It
was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it
encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no
time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run over
animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should
pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal
lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing
on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve
in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible
second, he screamed and lept!

I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die
you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of
spectacular ... as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and
impacted me squarely in the chest.

Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn
he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling,
hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I
was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans
this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was
doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at
maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his
life with a squirrel. And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally
managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent
off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I
recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should
have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have
sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his
business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary
pissed-off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and,
with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump
and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his
rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed
to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not
improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the
throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and
my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand
and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can
only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and
she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left
the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in
ecstasy. I screamed in ... well ...I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one glove, and
roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back.
The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on
the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the
mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash
into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured
out how to release the throttle ... my brain was just simply overloaded.

I did mange to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the
massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided
that I was no paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle
(maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came
around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the
faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my face.

I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on
the squirrel, however.

The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with
shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a
large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very
raggedly-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at
probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail
sticking out of the mostly full-faced helmet.

By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got
the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of
my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it
worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off
on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do
some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser,
dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing
only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and
screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live
squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine ... I managed to get the big
motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I
then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke
at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have retuned to fess up
(and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two
things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit
concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both
sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger
side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard,
quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's
seat was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own
police car.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I
could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from
the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back
window, shaking his little fist at me, shooting me the finger...

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car.

A somewhat shredded patrol car ...but it was all his. I took a deep
breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice
Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to
just buy myself a new pair of gloves and some Band-Aids.

 

Sorry for the top posting. I don't believe a word of it, but okay, I
laughed my ass off.

 

Well, the best stories have a basis in truth, and I have been attacked
by a groundsquirrel. I'm sure the tale was embellished a bit, but I bet
it grew out of something that really happened! Those squirrels have
really nasty tempers!

barbz

 

Well, the best stories have a basis in truth, and I have been attacked
by a groundsquirrel. I'm sure the tale was embellished a bit, but I bet
it grew out of something that really happened! Those squirrels have
really nasty tempers!

barbz[/QUOTE]

So they are controlled by that Xenu chap then?

 

Yes. My extensive research has shown this to be true.

barbz

 

Yes. My extensive research has shown this to be true.

barbz[/QUOTE]

I must be on his bad list then, cuz one of the little bastards threw a
tree limb at me once.

 

A rabbit once launched me out of my seat, gripping the bars for
dear life, and when I landed I needed to pull over and recover
(how do you tell if your girlfriend is ticklish? Give her a
couple of test tickles.)

Luckily, I didn't brake or swerve to avoid the friggin' rodent! ;-)

 

Huh...I've had pedestrians do that in the road, too. Slowing down is all
you CAN do...can't tell which way they're going to jump next!

barbz

 

Chris Crew once hit a pheasant. It split open when it impacted his
helmet and plopped into his lap. It says something about his skill that
he didn't drop the bike. He was a bloody mess, though. I was annoyed
that he threw it away. I would have eaten it with raspberry sauce.

I got hit just below my chin guard by a big green fig beetle. It felt
like a karate chop. I did not eat it in raspberry sauce.

barbz