SQUIRRELS ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD!

I’m reminded of that one Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode where unexpectedly dolphins take over the world after Lisa frees its leader. This is all because lately I’ve noticed how suspiciously intelligent and successful the squirrels are here in Champaign.

The squirrels here are all fat and unafraid of humans, which is strange to me because back home in Aurora a squirrel that is twenty feet away will run for its life if you do something as terrifying as yawn. But here, people can actually walk up to a squirrel and pet it and give it a name. Here, squirrels dance around on trash bins, happily collecting food and materials as if their life is soooo fucking good, as if they are humans riding the late-90’s economic boom. And you should see the kind of looks the squirrels over here give you, a look like they consider us equals or something. How dare they?

To be honest, I feel a combination of resentment and fascination for these creatures.

This morning when I was running to a class I was late for, I saw that the granola bar I was quickly eating for breakfast had raisins in them — WHICH I HATE — so I tossed the bar in the middle of the street in disgust. But before the granola bar could even touch the ground, an opportunistic squirrel came out of nowhere and caught it in mid-air and hurriedly climbed up the nearest tree. It was the greatest display of reflex and raw agility — this side of Wolverine and Spider-man — that I’ve EVER seen.

Not caring anymore that I was 5 minutes late to class, I circled the tree over and over, trying to find where the squirrel went with my granola bar — but it was nowhere to be found. Stealthy motherfuckers those squirrels can be. Incredible.

On the way home from class, I spotted another squirrel who was staring me down like I was a white person in East Compton. After cautiously dropping my school bag to the ground, I approached it in the middle of someone’s lawn, daring the squirrel to make a move. But it didn’t. It just locked its beady eyes with mine, tilting its head inquisitively as it studied me, obviously to figure out if I was threatening or not.

I then tiptoed ever closer and closer to this miniature beast, eventually initiating a game of Flinch with it by jerking my feet in the air as if I was about to step on it, and the squirrel would duck its head in fear and I would say, “HA! Made you flinch! I made you flinch you stupid fucking squirrel!” and people walking by on the sidewalk would either shake their heads at me or laugh in amusement but I did not care.

I just can’t stand how carefree these squirrels are. They need the fear of Man in them.

The other day, when I was taking a shower, I felt a strange presence in the room with me. As if someone was watching me. Well believe or not, people, it was a squirrel. The squirrel had chewed its way through the screen of the window in my bathroom, and built a nest of leaves in there between the screen and the glass pane. The nest is probably a place it’s planning on using to hibernate in during the winter, but I also think the squirrel just likes to watch me lather my hot body with a bar of Irish Spring from time to time.

The reason I haven’t sabotaged the squirrel’s nest or called for pest control to get rid of it yet is because I actually want it to hibernate there this winter. That way, when it’s sleeping sometime during December, I’ll simply slide open my bathroom window and stick a heated fork into its body. When it lets out its ear-piercing shriek of pain, I’ll shut it up by plunging q-tip after q-tip down its throat.

If that doesn’t send a message to these squirrels loud and clear, nothing will.

I told a friend of mine the other day about my intentions and he looked at me funny and said, “Yeah. Just be careful man. You don’t want to get rabies or anything.”

And I shook my head and replied, “You see? That’s exactly what’s wrong with us these days. Humans shouldn’t fear squirrels. Squirrels should fear humans.”