Animal Rights

-- How come you don't want to sit on the bench? It's romantic.

-- It's not romantic. There's a squirrel there.

-- What? I stopped, and tried to formulate a question. Squirrel and romance don't go hand in hand? I paused again, and wished I'd taken longer.

She crunched her face in concern, as if to pity me, then leveled her arm in the direction of the creature.

-- It's the only thing there. It's -- it's been there for, what, ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? It's unquestionably guarding the bench, and will devour and shred any sort of couple who sashay toward the water like a freaking carrot peeler.

I picked up a stick, and made my way to the critter.

-- You know, I was thinking of renting Monty Python's Quest for the Holy --

-- Fine! Go get eaten! See what I care! Next thing you know, this park'll be full of cannibals feeding truckloads of bodies to the squirrels.

I stopped, turned around, and raised an eyebrow.

-- Kidding! Phillip K. Dick! Go! Do your manly squirrel-shooing.

Link.