There is a serial killer on the loose in Eastern Massachusetts. He stalks the upper-middle class neighborhoods, the back roads, and even the town centers, waiting, watching, and when the time is right, he strikes upon his prey.
The common grey squirrel.
That’s only possible reason I can conceive for the phenomenon I witnessed during the break, when I saw the pathetic squirrel corpses littered on seemingly every paved surface in the towns surrounding my own. That or perhaps a consortium of like minded squirrel haters, bent on ridding the world of this garden pet, and budget minded house hold pet. It could also be that the black and red squirrels have hired a hit man to wipe out their ubiquitous brother so that there’s more stolen bird feed for them. But I’ll stick to my guns, and say that it’s a single killer, because I highly doubt that not one, but many would willingly run down a helpless little rodent. I refuse to do so, and because of this refusal, I have already had to replace my left wing mirror…which may not have been the best move on my part all things considered.
But I stand by my decision. And I vow that I’ll raise awareness of this killer, even if I have to paper the whole of Eastern Mass with leaflets and wanted posters, depicting the mad man as I envision him: Boras Karloff, with the eyes of Rasputin and the heart of Ayn Rand. Naturally it will be a little impressionistic, but I think someone will be able to identify him. And if not, I’ll just have to set up a blockade in Natick center, to examine the wheels of every car that passes through.
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