The Taunting
Not an hour ago, I went into the back room. And sitting on the post just outside the back door was The Squirrel.
It had been plotting, obviously.
I could tell by the feigned look of casual innocence on its face, and in its guilty, scheming little eyes. Our eyes met. My hands and its paws rested at our sides, ready. Waiting. A tumbleweed rolled by, and in the distance, I heard the forlorn wail of a harmonica. My fingers twitched.
I hissed, "Fuck off!" It bolted.
This was obviously a test. The Squirrel needed to seize me up, and gauge my character as a worthy foe. It's obviously a fearful and cowardly creature.
I will need to brush up on my martial arts techniques. I expect my special technique of "Dance Of 1,000 Tortured Squirrels" will strike fear into the core of its being.
But for now, I will wait.
It had been plotting, obviously.
I could tell by the feigned look of casual innocence on its face, and in its guilty, scheming little eyes. Our eyes met. My hands and its paws rested at our sides, ready. Waiting. A tumbleweed rolled by, and in the distance, I heard the forlorn wail of a harmonica. My fingers twitched.
I hissed, "Fuck off!" It bolted.
This was obviously a test. The Squirrel needed to seize me up, and gauge my character as a worthy foe. It's obviously a fearful and cowardly creature.
I will need to brush up on my martial arts techniques. I expect my special technique of "Dance Of 1,000 Tortured Squirrels" will strike fear into the core of its being.
But for now, I will wait.
posted by /hg | 4:33 p.m.
1 Comments:
Determined to keep me from sleeping, aren't you?
I have several life-sized stuffed wolves in my room to protect me from such insidious attempts on my life.
Perhaps some garlands of poisoned garlic....
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