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Thread: Evil Mutant Attack Squirrel Of Death

  1. #1
    Macht Nicht Aus moxnix's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2002
    Huson Mt.

    Evil Mutant Attack Squirrel Of Death

    Received this by e-mail:
    Many of you know that I am an avid motorcyclist and have been riding
    both personally and as a cop for more years than my children have been

    But have I ever told you the story of The Squirrel of Death?

    read on...........

    I never dreamed 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

    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

    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

    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.


    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

    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

    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

    I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back).

    I really would have.


    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
    \"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, Champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming WOO HOO - What a Ride!\"
    Author Unknown

  2. #2
    the beign of authority kurt_der_koenig's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2004
    lmao...dude I see a movie coming lol . That was funny as ****! dam

  3. #3
    HeadShot Master N1nja Cybr1d's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Boston, MA

  4. #4
    me thinks me did pee pee's in me pants...

    damn that was the funniest thing i've read, and not the best thing to be reading when you got your jaw wired shut, but **** it it's worth the pain...

  5. #5
    Leftie Linux Lover the_JinX's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2001
    Beverwijk Netherlands
    Perhaps the squirrel is related to Psycho Bunny

    Who knows..
    ASCII stupid question, get a stupid ANSI.
    When in Russia, pet a PETSCII.

    Get your ass over to SLAYRadio the best station for C64 Remixes !

  6. #6
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    Jan 2003
    That guy writes in the same style as me eh ?

  7. #7
    Gray Haired Old Fart aeallison's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2002
    Buffalo, Missouri USA
    That is some funny ****! I havn't laughed this hard in friggin years. My sides are now hurting, tears streaming from my face, dentures laying in front of my monitor, and perplexed customers outside my office wondering WTF is so funny.

    Thank You!!!

    I have a question; are you the bug, or the windshield?

  8. #8
    Join Date
    Jan 2004
    That is some of the funniest **** I have read in a long time. Thank you I needed that laugh.
    I have 315 relays and 118 switches and have all the power of a calculator.

  9. #9
    Join Date
    Apr 2004
    welll what do we name the movie...............................
    squriller terminator I ???or

  10. #10
    Join Date
    Oct 2001
    Toledo, OH

    Thumbs up Mutant Squirrel

    I have this vivid mental picture that won't go away as I squish towards the bathroom.....
    Ab Hoc Possum Videre Domum Tuum.

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