Dawn of the Attatck of The Deadly Squirrels

Two weeks ago, my girlfriend was walking out of her office when a squirrel jumped on her and then quickly off again to go scurry off and do whatever it is these animals do. Unharmed but shaken, she proclaimed that the squirrel had the foul stench of bloodlust in its breath. I accused her of exaggerating her peril slightly. Unamused by my lack of concern, she accused me of being a "squirrel sympathizer". That stung.

A week ago, I was at my mother's house preparing the deck for a new coat of paint when I looked towards the back and saw a squirrel with that unmistakable look of mischief. It was a lot closer in proximity to me than I was comfortable with. Carefully, I threw down the broom and frantically ran inside to collect my testicles. I cautiously peeked through the blinds before returning outside to see if Rocky had scurried away yet. It had not, until he caught my eye and gave an evil wink before cockily walking off.

"I'll kill you good!" - Squirrel

I think I know what we're up against here. We're on the eve of a Squirrel Revolution. Don't dismiss these warnings. If you do nothing but sit there and laugh at me while throwing peanuts around, it'll be too late to prepare yourself.

The fact is, we've been at constant odds with nature ever since settlers opened the first Wal-Mart on Plymouth Rock in 300 B.C. when they defeated the dinosaurs in an Ultimate Fighter cage match. The animals, at home in the grass, trees and rolling hills, had to displace themselves to the cold concrete of the mini-mall. All of them were unhappy about this change but none of them had the discipline to reclaim their land. That is, until the squirrels learned a few tricks along the way down the winding path of evolution.

Humans, they know, are fearful of any rodent. But the adoration we have for their attractively bushy tails leaves us at odds with our emotions. Once we're lulled into a false sense of security by watching that "cute" squirrel nibble on something while standing on hind legs, that's when they'll go for the throat. And soon thereafter, those tiny little Molotov Cocktails will start flying from seemingly out of nowhere followed by the ear-shattering sound of high-pitched giggling.

You've been warned. Beware the squirrels.