Hey squirrel, heeeeeeeeyyyyy!Tis the season for spooks, and in the spirit of the poor, unfortunate squirrel that was found swimming with the fishes in the depths of Schrock Plaza’s fountain, I have a scary Hallo-weekend story of my own for you.
This is the true story of how
I Was Almost Tricked Into Being A Treat
After seeing how much fun you all were having dressing up and celebrating Halloween, I thought I had better snatch myself a special outfit if I had any hope of sneaking over to Howell unnoticed to collect the post-Howelloween marshmallows scattered on the lawn.
So, I found myself searching in the remaining leaves of the Rott-planted herb garden. I was, of course, planning on decorating myself with all manners of leafy garnish in hopes of taking on the persona of a Spice Squirrel (I adore ‘90s pop).
As usual, I had taken care to skitter quickly from tree to tree so as to not attract attention from sources which, unlike my costume, were unsavory. But I had foolishly forgotten the Silent Swooper.
The Silent Swooper is a shadow of death, what every squirrel mother tells their child to keep them in bed at night, only coming out around Halloween when the winds are strongest. He hides in the shadows, waiting for an unsuspecting rodent such as myself to put so much as a whisker into the open. Only then does he ride the winds down, wings splayed and talons reaching to enfold you in their embrace of agony.
Just as I reached out for the final touch of thyme, I felt the piercing gaze of something sizing me up to strike. I chanced a peek over my shoulder just in time to catch a flash of feathers before the Swooper’s shadow blocked out the autumn sun.
“This is the end,” I thought. “I should have listened to my mother.”
But alas, the tail saved this tale. As I looked up into my impending doom, I lost my balance and tripped over my crook shaped sweeper, falling into my pile of Spice Squirrel selections. Just in time too; with no time to recalculate his killing blow, the Silent Swooper sailed over my head and straight into the metal bars of the patio gate. Oof.
With the Swooper seeing stars, I skedaddled out of there just as fast as my little legs could carry me. I wasn’t able to be a Spice Squirrel after all, but that’s okay, I’m just glad I made it out with all the fur on my tail! Besides, I made do as a pretty convincing Backstreet Boy!
Baby, bye bye bye!
XOXO, Gossip Squirrel