07 August 2006

A Surfeit of Squirrels (7)

Me: Could you stop wailing and gnashing like that? I’m trying to concentrate.
Squirrels: Waaaaaaaaaiiiiiillllllllllll.
Me: What’s the matter? Why are you all writhing around on the ground like that?
Squirrel: Where have the trees gone?
Me: The trees?
Squirrel: Those three trees.
Me: The council cut them down.
Squirrels: Waaaaaaaaaiiiiiillllllllllll.
Me: Stop that. Please. It’s horrible.
Squirrel: Why did they do that? Why?
Squirrels: Waaaaaaaaaiiiiiillllllllllll.
Me: I don’t know.
Squirrel: You made them didn’t you? Because you hate us.
Me: No. I liked the trees, I’m sorry they’ve gone. Look on the bright side, eh? You’ve got other trees. Look, that one’s enormous.
Squirrels: Waaaaaaaaaiiiiiillllllllllll.
Me: Why don’t you write to the council and complain instead of harrassing me?
Squirrel: Because these little little paws have not yet evolved the ability
to hold a pen, have they? Stupid.
Me: Can you go and lament in someone’s garden? I’m bored of you now.
Squirrel: That council are out to get us.
Bastard: Dad?
Squirrel: Yes.
Bastard: Is it because you killed the Prime Minister?
Squirrel: Don’t be silly.
Me: It’s alright, little Bastard. Daddy didn’t kill the Prime Minister. I’ve seen him on the television lots and lots.
Squirrel: That’s not the Prime Minister.
Me: Yes it is.
Squirrel: No it isn’t.
Me: It looks like him.
Squirrel: Do you really think the real Prime Minister would have postponed a Caribbean holiday to keep on eye on the crisis in the Middle East? No. He would have buggered off and left Quick Draw McGraw in charge. Wouldn’t he?
Me: Oh. Shit.
Squirrel: Exactly.
Me: Who’s the guy on the telly then?
Squirrel: That’s some homeless guy called Hilary we found in the alleyway. We’re paying him in tequila and crack cocaine. He's a good laugh actually. We're taking him to Spearmint Rhino tomorrow night.
Me: Where's the real Prime Minister then?
Squirrel: We stashed his bloody corpse in the boot of your car.


Me: Waaaaaaaaaiiiiiillllllllllll.

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