I write this, my friends, so you will not be ignorant of the impending doom that is about to come upon all 50 states (that have squirrels).
I type with my shades down today, as increasing numbers of squirrels canvas my house. In deliberate facade, they peek under fallen leaves for the acorns that will supposedly sustain them throughout the winter months ahead. I see, however, the subtle jerk of the head toward my dining room window. I see the beady little eyes assessing my defenses. With the number of squirrels running around in the back yard, it is impossible for me to watch them all at once. However, you can rest assured that multiple eyes are watching me.
They scan my fortifications, each squirrel assigned to a different aspect of the house. No individual squirrel knows the entire layout, until they meet back at the oak tree to compare notes. Soon, a complete rendering of the house is made, with all weaknesses highlighted.
As I dump shot into the barrel of my elephant gun, I know my duty lies to you, my dear readers, to warn you of this impending doom. For I see the subtle creatures not only in my back yard, but also in the yards of all those around me.
Lock your women and children safely in your bomb shelter, and may God have mercy on your soul.