Seagull

Close your mouth and open your eyes. Or yeah, go back to eating, being fat and happy, and nom nom nom your way through all the nuts on the tree. Mr. Squirrel you are living it large. But next year, the tree mold is likely going to take out your prized black walnut tree. This means no more nuts. No more dropping nuts on my house at 5am. No more chattering, no more frolicking sex in the yard. Though maybe it won't come to pass and somehow the tree is going to pull through the epidemic and not come down. Would be nice. Personally I'm skeptical of my plan to create a squirrel-fur umbrella-shade to help shade and cool the house after the tree is gone. Could be time to talk to the druids. They may help, but likely for a price. There is always a price with those gypsies. Last I checked they didn't take plastic and they didn't take squirrels. First-born, other trees, groves, glades, virgins --yes! Other things, no. So now here this. Low-cost provider druids who don't mind taking a bicycle with one broken wheel (it's almost in riding shape) are encouraged to congregate and conclave in the little enclave behind the domicile. There you can refresh yourself, eat grapes, relax and squabble of the rights to the mostly working bike. First one to conclusively save the tree rides off a winner. The rest of you are walking to memphis. I don't care if it's hot and the pyramids are not what they used to be. At least you don't have to swim there this time. This time you got the ability to float and pass through things going for you. Be nice and get the freaking little squirrels to leave along with saving the tree and there may just be a plate of buffalo wings in the deal for you. Food got you down you say. Nevermind. Maybe it'll just be a saucer of milk and some candles then.