MONSTROUS RODENT MILITIAS
Killer Squirrels: We Must Unite Against This Global Terror
I am the Greta Thunberg of the anti-squirrel movement
Tragedy befell me and its name was squirrel.
A growing malevolence lurks in all corners of the world. It eludes publicity as pandemics, climate change, and political unrest take center stage.
But the threat is real.
We must take action if we’re to survive.
Of course, I’m speaking about killer squirrels. Those nasty, bushy-tailed tree rats watch us with their beady eyes. They’re building an army, and won’t attack until they’ve reached full power. The evil of the killer squirrels knows no bounds.
I’ve tried to form a coalition against their horrors, but no one takes me seriously. But their trauma-inducing ways threatened me at a young age. The day the killer squirrels launched their first attack against me is ingrained forever in my memory.
Until that fateful day, I believed squirrels were identical to chipmunks. Sweet, rodent-sized balls of energy. I’d watch the squirrels by my house, and even gave them names.
Each day when I left for school, I said “hi” to Teddy and Sam and Esmeralda. I even left small piles of acorns to fill their bellies. They chirped and waved their tails my way. I thought we were friends. But they were just biding time, waiting to catch me off my guard.
Tragedy befell me and its name was squirrel.
I wish I could go back in time and change fate. Alas, all I can do is warn the world and bring attention to the imminent threat of killer squirrels. If I can ready even one person, I’ll fulfill my purpose.
I am the Greta Thunberg of squirrel eradication.
The history of the ruthless killers
“You shall know our wrath”
On a bright and crisp September day, my grandma took me to the park to feed the ducks. I was seven, and thought Mom-Mom was the coolest. We sat at a bench by the lake as she regaled me with tales of her youth. We threw bread to the ducks and they quacked in appreciation.
Out of nowhere, a squirrel leaped from a tree. He ninja-kicked a duck, stealing Mr. Quackers’ bread as it dropped from the mallard’s beak. Mom-Mom stood from the bench and chased the squirrel. Alas, he was a killer squirrel — he counterattacked and chased her back. The squirrel jumped on Grandma’s hand and whispered, “You shall know our wrath” before biting her hand.
Mom-Mom died three months later. The squirrel had nothing to do with her passing, but I’m certain he was a harbinger of doom.
The tree rats put a target on my family, and watched for us around every corner.
When my brother, Timmy, was in seventh grade, he and his friend, Greg, got in trouble for skipping school. Timmy swore they’d tried to walk to school, but a rabid squirrel chased them for twenty minutes. Thinking of Mom-Mom, my parents comforted Timmy and didn’t punish him. Our family began to train for the inevitable squirrel apocalypse — we wouldn’t go down without a fight.
My first apartment included a large rooftop balcony — I spent most of my free time hanging out on said balcony, until the squirrels came. One day, I sat chatting on the phone with my boyfriend. I lay in a lounge chair and stared into the glorious blue sky. Suddenly, I heard a squeaky, chattering sound by my feet.
When I sat up, a swarm of a dozen squirrels scurried around the chair.
“Death to humans!” they screamed as their beady, soulless eyes stared into my soul. One held a tiny sword and wore the uniform of a general. I screamed and darted to the door, but before I could make my escape, I felt tiny, rabid teeth bite down on my skull.
I wound up with five stitches and an acute awareness of the killer squirrel threat.
They’re coming for us all and must be stopped
Pay attention to your surroundings — the tree rats are everywhere.
They will come for us in broad daylight. They will come for us in the shadows. The next time you’re outside, look up at the trees. You’ll notice the killer squirrels silently watching you. They’re sizing you up to ready the global attack.
If we bring this plight into the open, we’ll find each of us knows someone who has suffered a killer squirrel attack. We should no longer hang our heads in shame. We need to take our power back from the rodents.
It’s easy to forget about this apocalyptic plight in the face of the ever-mutating pandemic, vast climate issues, and extreme politics. However, we must remember. I will continue to advocate for the anti-squirrel movement despite the opposition.
No longer should we call the tree rats “cute.” We cannot allow this rodent army to lull us into submission. We will take the fight to the killer squirrels and catch them by surprise. We will sound our battle cries and we will emerge triumphant.
“Not today, you bushy-tailed freaks. Not today.”
*Click here for more attempts at humor from Sarah Paris