Mr. Squirrel's Revenge

    There is a story that I've told about why I don't drive, about the squirrel that was the victim, and now, I have come to the sequel (creepy music ---> dun-dun-duuun). You see, the other day, I was throwing away a bag of trash, and as I went to toss the bag of my household's garbage into that big green bin of stink and decay, out popped Mr. Squirrel. He just about gave me a damn heart attack. He didn't run either, he challenged me with that ultra weird squirrel challenge. Fearful of furry little rodents (and possibly rabies) I fled to the safety of my apartment, leaving Mr. Squirrel to pursue his dumpster diving in peace.
   The next time I went to throw away trash, there was Mr. Squirrel again. What was up with this baseball sized fuzznut? He waited for me to throw that trash away, and I did, because once I take trash out, there is no way it's coming back in. And then he did that weird chittering again, that squirrels do when you invade their territory. Really? Why was this little rodent being so aggressive towards me?

   And that's when the truth dawned on me. Word of my slaying his little relative has reached him. He knows. It doesn't matter that he is only a fraction of my size. He is out for justice, for revenge, reprisal against the untimely death of his little Southern cousin. And his battlefield; the dumpster. That little squirrel is attempting to prevent me from being able to peaceably throw away my garbage. I am not quite sure how that will avenge his furry-little kinsman, but squirrels don't have the largest of brains. I am sure that he is out for vengeance in the only way he knows how; by staking a claim on the dumpster. Justice, in his little brain, is being served. (That, or he just really wants all the apple cores that I have been throwing away lately, but where is the fun in that?) Game on, Mr. Squirrel, game on.