Evil squirrels

I've just been attacked by a squirrel. I was on my way back from Central Square carrying a newly acquired trash can (yeah I know, I know) along with some other random shopping when I stopped to blow my nose and suddenly I was pelted by nuts. As I dodged for cover I looked around for the pesky kids but couldn't see any. It took me a few panicky seconds to realise that the aerial assault was coming from the tree branches above me and the perpetrator was a bloody squirrel! The little buggers are about half as big again as the ones back home, and they've clearly had military training. I shouted at the thing and waved my bin at it, but it just sat there defiently with its ammunition, eyeballing me. I backed away from it and managed to get to the shelter of my flat without any more attacks, for which I was grateful. So, this is how the squirrels want it, eh. With their surprise Pearl Harbour-like attack they've declared war, and they don't know who they're messing with. This is a war that will not be over any time soon. It's going to be long and messy, and many sacrifices will have to be made. I shall fight them on the beeches. I shall fight them in the parks and in the streets. I shall never surrender.