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June 10, 2005
Volume 2, Issue 10
Today's topic comes straight from the inimitable Sugar Bush Squirrel:
Have at it.
Tanya: Fearless
"I know it's hot out here, but if those camels can handle it, I'm pretty sure you can too," the little one said. Not that his friend had complained. Probably still too busy examining the guns to notice the heat.
Everyone thought the big guy was dumb, because he tended to say simple things, but he was actually a mechanical genius and weapons expert extraordinaire. The real brains behind the operation. They had come to the desert to demonstrate a few new gadgets.
"We sure are a long way from Frostbite Falls," the moose replied quietly.
"You bet we are."
Michele: Go Nuts
My cousin Barry doesn’t understand why I’m doing this. See, the crows are planning a takeover. Our threat level is Orange, and I’m prepared to defend my home and protect my family. Those damn crows are gonna come for us and I need to gather as much food as a I can just to play it safe.
Barry won’t gather nuts because he thinks we’re gonna make nice with the crows. Hah. He’ll be sorry when the attack comes. I’ll have all this food and ammo and all he’ll have is that one acorn he stole from me. Stupid pacifist.
Laurence - Jihadi Squirrel
The trembling from Parkinson's dissipated, itself a victim of the destruction HIV was doing throughout his body.
The machines kept him going. Until...
They found the account numbers.
Dam-
He was gone.
And then he was back.
Yasser looked around.
No Paradise. No seventy-two virgins. No throne of Allah.
"What is this madness?" he wanted to say.
It came out as: "Chitter!"
Yasser scampered out of his knot-hole, down his tree, and he looked in the pond.
"Chitter!"
He looked around, and saw a squirrel in a tiny wheelchair.
Yassin?
He blamed the Jews, and declared a jihad. For...
NUTS!
Stacy: Backlash
There wasn't much to do in Boca in those days. Bridge with the girls. Brunch at the club. Dressing up Erma's squirrel in those little silly costumes.
The farmer outfit was bad. The wedding dress worse. The bunny, Santa and leprechaun outfits just embarassing.
What was Erma thinking, taking in that wild animal? Sure, it was just a baby, but there are people who deal with lost animals. Erma was just lonely, I suppose, missing Herman like she did.
Poor Erma, how could she know that squirrel had a cousin who was an arms dealer in Miami? We'll miss her.
Andy: Newsroom
"This is breaking news, good stuff," he said.
"But, sir," I said.
"No buts, Johnson, this is big. Huge!"
"Sir, pl—"
"In this business, we've got to be fast. We've got to break hot stories." Editor-in-chief Cantor slapped his desk with both hands. "It won't do us a damn bit of good to look back on this as the one that got away."
"Mr. Cant—"
"Johnson, don’t let it get away!"
So we went to press with a picture of the hostage.
It was a G.I. Joe.
I for one thought the accompanying picture of the terrorist squirrel was suspicious.
Ted: An Army of One
The General looked at his R&D chief in disbelief. "Over a billion dollars, for this?"
"Yessir General. Absolutely SofTA. Perfect in every detail. Fast breeding cycle, utterly loyal, perfect for all climates, not enough brain to wash. The mini rifle is of course a particle accelerator, not a projectile weapon, so the area of effect is huge."
The General stared.
"And, um, of course there is also the development of the stealth squirrel we have in New Mexico."
"Why the uniform, moron? Why not just a neon sign saying 'I'M A ROBOT'?"
"Um, Barry in development thought it looked cute."
From the Comments: Hubris
It looked like today’s outfit would involve holding a gun like the soldiers in the fading pictures on the wall, which all included a younger, scantily clad version of Old Woman.
Old Woman’s fingers poked and prodded. The sound system hidden among the wicker furniture pounded out an unrelenting mix of steel guitar, banjos, and Old Woman’s own warbling voice, the voice that seemed to burrow its way directly to the center of his brain and burst vessels there. Ah, life in Boca Raton.
Palm fronds brushed the window, forever out of reach. He wished he could smoke, at least.
