A Surfeit of Squirrels (1)

Squirrel: Listen, Froosh, you know them nuts? The ones you put out for the birds?
Me: Yeah.
Squirrel: Can you put some more out?
Me: Nope.
Squirrel: Dude, go on. You know you want to.
Me: I don’t.
Squirrel: That ain’t fair.
Me: Yeah, it is fair. What happens when I do put nuts out for the birds?
Squirrel: Nothing.
Me: What happens?
Squirrel: Oh. What? You mean me and my mates come and hang off the tree like bats, showing off and all, and chew holes in the red plastic bag thingy?
Me: Yeah, then what?
Squirrel: Then we eat all the nuts?
Me: And what did you do the other day?
Squirrel: Nothing, we went to Bluewater. I’m tellin’ you, man, we did. Ask the Kent constabulary.
Me: What did you do the other day?
Squirrel: We ran off with the whole bag. Even took the bit of plastic clothes line you’d used to hang them up.
Me: Exactly. So no – I’m not putting any nuts out for the birds.
Squirrel: That is a gross injustice, man. Think of the birds, think of the birds.
Me: You think of the birds. I might has well just give you the £2 and be done with it.

(pause)

Squirrel: That works for me.

Later two grey squirrels came and knocked on the kitchen window and accused me of loving their red brethren. They had placards declaring me a communist and everything. Bastards.