A Conversation Between Squirrels (standard:humor, 1688 words)
Author: Rimmer	Added: Oct 03 2008	Views/Reads: 2907/1855	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What squirrels talk about.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

jars! 

S1:	Until a species on this planet comes up with a safe way to dispose
of it.  In the jars it stays!  I will not pollute my streams and 
rivers. 

S2:	The humans invented this wacky new invention called a sewer you
numbskull.  Or didn't you get the memo?  They even have a couple of 
port-o-johns down by the fire road.  You can put it in there.  As for 
polluting our water systems, you're a freaking squirrel for Gods sake!  
There is nothing you could do to hurt them.  If you pissed twenty-four 
hours a day, everyday for the next ten years, directly into the river.  
Not one single bug or fish would complain.  As a squirrel, it is in our 
contract with Mother Nature, to take a leak when ever and where ever we 
want.  Now please shut up and grab a couple of those acorns over there. 


S1:	Why?  For forty-bucks we could buy all the nuts we need, and have
them delivered. 

S2:	Excuse me for being so old fashioned.  But the last time I checked
the local paper they didn't advertise jobs for furry woodland 
creatures. 

S1:	Well you may be content with your current government handouts.  But
I got a job to improve my lot in life.  I'm a male underwear model for 
Fur-Weekly Magazine! 

S2:	You're a what? 

S1:	Ya!  This old lady comes to the edge of the woods by the park, sits
on the bench, and takes pictures of all the hot young birds and 
animals. 

S2:	She's there feeding you idiots because your to dense to take care of
yourselves.  She simply enjoys spending time with us and watching us. 

S1:	How dare you call my employer a peeping tail! 

S2:	I'm not!  I know exactly who you're talking about.  She goes there
every Wednesday, eats her lunch and shares some with us. 

S1:	If that's true.  Why does she always take my picture, and leaves me
a nickel when she leaves? 

S2:	Who wouldn't take a picture of an insane squirrel posing in his
underwear!  She probably makes copies and gives them to her friends as 
gag gifts.  As for payment, if you've been compensated in the form of a 
shiny circular piece of metal, then it's a bottle cap you fuzz brain 
with ears! 

S1:	Oh.  That explains why no one will accept them outside the rat in
tree number 3B. 

S2:	You've been the one giving those to him?  Do you know what he does
with them? 

S1:	Spends them on moon-pies and caramel apples I suppose. 

S2:	You idiot!  He chucks them at people when they're not looking!  Wait
a second, back up.  Given there is a lady that comes to the edge of the 
woods and takes pictures.  Why did you think you were a male underwear 
model for Fur-Weekly Magazine? 

S1: 	I don't know really.  I just assumed. 

S2:	Is there even such a thing as a Fur-Weekly Magazine? 

S1:	There must be!  How else could I of been their underwear model? 

S2:	Stop!  Just stop!  I can only absorb so much idiocy at one time, and
that last statement you made physically hurt my brain. 

S1:	I've never seen this side of you before.  You're jealous! 

S2:	I'm what? 

S1:	You are!  You're jealous of my fame brought about by my handsome
rugged physic. 

S2:	You're an overweight middle-aged squirrel with a receding hairline. 
I could only be jealous of rugged features if you had some semblance of 
them in the first place. 

S1:	Wait!  I'll show you.  Stand back a few feet. 

S2:	Why? 

S1:	I'm going to flex, and I don't want to knock you down by accident. 

S2:	Lord I need a beer! 

S1:	Oh no you don't!  The last time we went drinking you got in that bar
fight.  Remember? 

S2:	I remember you started it by calling that weasel and 20 of his
biggest friends “Otter wanna-be's”.  Then you threw a bottle at them, 
and went running out the door.  Leaving me to fend for myself. 

S1:	You did all right.  You got out with your skin in tact. 

S2:	Skin yes!  Fur no!  You didn't even hang around outside to help walk
me back home. 

S1:	I was busy. 

S2:	That's right.  When I did find you.  You were busy hitting on a
concrete statue of a beaver. 

S1:	I was drunk and a bit disoriented.  You can't hold that over me. 

S2:	Not hold what over you, the fact that you were trying to chat up a
chunk of concrete, or with a different species of animal that out 
weighs you by three times or better? 

S1:	You got something against big boned bucked tooth women? 

S2:	Yes I do actually.  When they're made out of concrete, and sitting
in a fountain in the city square, and my only living cousin is putting 
his best moves on it.  Didn't the fact that water was coming out its 
ears, and that it wasn't talking back give you a hint? 

S1:	 Maybe?  I thought she was just a little shy, but playful. 

S2:	Please!  I'm begging you.  Shut up for five minutes and pick up some
acorns.  You've officially given me a headache, and I don't want to go 
back to the nest empty handed. 

S1:	You know if you have a headache, you should bounce on one foot while
whistling Dixie, and think of purple fuzzy things. 

S2:	I should what? No! No! Don't answer that! 

S1:	Come on, it works like a charm.  It works best if you balance a
penguin on your head at the same time. 

S2:	Why a penguin? 

S1:	They have strange wonderful magical powers.  However we'd have an
easier time finding an oiled leprechaun than a penguin in these parts. 

S2:	Because penguins don't live within about a million miles from were
we are standing? 

S1:	No!  Weren't you listening?  I just said they have strange wonderful
magical powers.  That and the fact they live five feet underground 
doesn't help. 

S2:	You are so lucky I can't find a big rock right now! 

S1:	Now oiled leprechauns wouldn't be a problem to find.  But I don't
think they would do your headache much good. 

S2:	Why would a magical nocturnal penguin be able to help and not an
oiled leprechaun? 

S1:	Oiled leprechauns are what most people would call “loud talkers”,
shouters actually.  The last thing you need right now is a twelve foot 
oiled leprechaun shouting Shakespeare at you.  Not with your headache 
and all. 

S2:	Twelve-foot Shakespearean leprechauns that shouts, live in these
woods, and I've somehow managed to keep missing them. 

S1:	They're easy to miss because they're invisible most of the time. 

S2:	That it!  I'm going home, and don't you dare follow me or call! 

S1:	You forgot your acorns. 


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