Evil Mutant Attact Squirrel Of Death!!!!!

[SUGARKAHNE]

An original true story, written by a Battalion Fire Chief in a

Mississippi town.

EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH

I never dreamed that 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 beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at

the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty

sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-

sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of

spectacular...

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 angry 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 antisocial 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

leather glove and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating

down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic

squirrel of death 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 manage 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 not paying

sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was 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 part way, 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 closed

full-face 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 returned 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, 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.

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 a

whole lot of Band-Aids.

[coles]

is taht really true? if so that is crazy!!!!!!

[OJR]

True or not, it is funny in a weird way! LOL!!

[Bowtech_archer07]

That is hilarious!!!! But I have my doubts as to whether it is true or not. Still, ROFLMBO!!!!

[stevebeilgard]

i doubt it's true, but i have no doubt it's very funny.

[whitetailkiller]

fact or fiction that is funny!!!!!!

[Guest OklaBow712]

Only in Mississippi...lol thats a good one

[Tominator]

I didn't read that whole thing, but one day while my dad and brother were golfing, a fox squirrel came at my brother when he went to get his ball. Apparently, this squirrel chased him all the way down the fairway hissing and snarling at him, doing that bark that they do.

My dad said it was one of the funniest things he's ever seen, and my brother said there were many times where he thought abooot taking an approach shot with his 5 iron, but eventually the squirrel went back to his tree.

[Buckslayer]

Doubt its true even though it says so... But, I did find it amusing.