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ToonaFish
08-18-2004, 12:13 AM
Veracity is questionable, but I'm still giggling...

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,
"Bonzai!" 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.

DonziChick
08-19-2004, 02:31 PM
I have a friend that absolutely insists that squirrels are evil and they are trying to take over. This would seem to back up that theory...

and you're right...I was trying not to laugh out loud the whole time (I'm at work...I think they think I'm crazy...)

edit: Toona - your new signature...well I'm lacking words on that one.. :)

Cuda
08-19-2004, 06:15 PM
That was hilarious! :yes:

Sean
08-23-2004, 04:10 PM
I had tears running down my face I was laughing so hard. :biggrin: That was great.

Fish boy
08-24-2004, 08:23 PM
very funny, but how did you hear about my being attacked by that wily quadraped?

ToonaFish
08-25-2004, 12:26 AM
Just tell me that you weren't "feeling" Squirrelly that day.

Bunches,

Celene 'he has that little Mona Lisa rodent grin thing going on...'