I just got attacked by a squirrel.

Seriously.

It’s about 7am on Sunday morning, I’m walking up to the management office of our apartment complex to drop something in the night slot, and I noticed a squirrel dart into the bushes a few feet ahead of me. I naturally assumed that he was engaging in Typical Squirrel Behavior, which is basically just being nervous and twitchy, like a meth addict during a police raid. I thought he was running away and hiding, like every other squirrel I’d ever encountered.

Little did I know that this was a Terrorist Combat Squirrel.

As I walked by the bushes, he jumped out and attached himself to my calf, then began to thrash around violently. I can only guess that this is a Squirrel Jujitsu technique designed to wrestle me to the ground and incapacitate me so that he could rip out my throat, stuff me into a tree trunk with his nut collection and other unsuspecting victims, then take up residence in my apartment so he can watch endless reruns of Rocky & Bullwinkle. His diabolical scheme was thwarted, however, by my defensive cunning.

My first thought was to seize the squirrel by the throat, toss him to the ground, stomp on him till his eyes popped out, then make a stylish fur hat or slippers or whatever. But then I thought that a Terrorist Combat Squirrel would expect that, because Terrorist Combat Squirrels are shrewd and clever. My only option was to outmaneuver him in this, The Chess Game of Death.

So I began to jump around and flail my arms and legs while screaming, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MOTHERFUCKER! GET OFF! GET OFF ME! GET! OFF! AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!”

Now, this may sound like the reaction of a spastic woman, but I assure you that I executed this maneuver in the manliest way possible.

The squirrel released after about 10 seconds, which would have won him a belt buckle at the Frightened White Guy Rodeo. I expected him to beat a hasty retreat, but apparently that’s not how Terrorist Combat Squirrels roll. He hit the sidewalk and spun to face me, undeterred and ready to pounce. It was clearly time for me to go on the offensive. Unfortunately, Unarmed Rodent Combat isn’t a college elective, so I had to resort to stomping my foot on the ground in an effort to scare him away.

“FUCK OFF!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “I’ll KILL YOU, FUCKER!”

And so he fucked off. I won. Neener neener.

It was then that I realized that it was 7am on Sunday morning and I’d just spent a full minute dancing around and shouting obscenities that could be heard for miles. So I looked around the outskirts of the apartment buildings to measure the impending humiliation. And, as only my luck would have it, there’s a guy standing at his car across the parking lot looking at me as though he hadn’t expected to see a grown man threatening to murder a squirrel. Come to think of it, at that distance he probably never even saw the squirrel. I shrugged and waved, quickly finished my so-not-worth-it delivery, and sprinted back to my apartment.

Partly because I was embarrassed, but mostly in fear for my life. Terrorist Combat Squirrel retaliation is nothing to fuck around with.

Tags: animal attack, squirrel