Walking home covered in squirrel crap was not how Henry had intended to end his day. In fact it wasn't how he intended to end any day. Yet here he was stinky, sticky, and pissed off.
Of course he couldn’t tell anyone what happened. Reasons being embarrassment, and the fact they would not believe him…ever.
Imagine walking out to your car with brief case in one hand, and thermos of coffee in the other. You place the thermos on the top of your car, grab your keys to unlock the door and the next thing you know you are being lifted up by a giant furry hand with claws.
You turn to look at a hellish creature that has been unleashed from hell to eat you, only to look into the eyes of a squirrel. A giant scary squirrel, but a squirrel none the less. Your whole body tenses, meaning you hold onto that briefcase as if your life depended on it, this will come in handy later.
As you near the mouth of the squirrel and think to yourself that those front teeth seem incredibly large and sharp, you then wet yourself. Once in the mouth the squirrel does some sort of spin thing with you using his tongue. You are covered in sticky slimy saliva, then you can see the muscles getting ready to gnaw.
Out of what could only be described as instinct, you cover your head with your briefcase. The teeth go into it quite easily, but it gets stuck. As the squirrel is fidgeting with the lodged brief case you try and figure out a way to escape.
The drop to the ground is well over fifty feet, that doesn’t look fun. The tree isn’t that far, if you got enough of a kick you might be able to make it, if you were spiderman.
Then your thinking is interrupted by the fact you are tossed into the mouth of above mentioned giant squirrel. You go down and down, all the way to the stomach. You see various body parts floating around, and a head pops up to scare the crap out of you, literally.
The acids are burning, and you know that you are either going to die there drowning in squirrel stomach acid, or you are going into the intestinal tract. Either option does not seem appealing in the least. Unfortunately you must make a choice.
The desire to live does not die easy so you dive down and head for what you hope is the intestinal tract, squirrel anatomy not being your strong point. You make it there, at least you think you do. Swimming through some of the most disgusting sludge you have ever smelled. You find a few pockets of air, and thank God for letting squirrels get gas.
The air smells like ass, literally, but it’s better than nothing. After what feels like hours you reach what you know is the exit. You kick, punch and scream until it opens.
Falling out as the squirrel is running you find yourself in what could only be called a squirrel skid mark.
And it isn’t even a Monday.