A/N: Just a fun little idea that I came up with one day.
Huge thanks to my sister (Riter's Fury) and my mom for helping me edit this story. :)
Please review... Enjoy!
Lassiter vs. The Red Squirrel
Red Squirrels POV
"We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him!"
My fellow squirrels have been chanting the same thing all morning. We are all crowded in the hollow of our tree, conducting our business and I stand in front of my comrades with pride.
"Settle down! Settle down!" I say and their chants slowly stop. "We have been planning the demise of that oppressive man for a long time now. We must proceed with caution in order to ensure the success of our mission."
"We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him!" they cry again.
"Not kill him. Just…disable." My many companions hang their heads in disappointment. It is time to motivate them. "My friends do not worry. He will get what he deserves. Far too long has that heartless Detective oppressed us! Today we unite! Today we will rise up! Today we shall conquer!"
"We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him!" Their cries echo throughout our hollow tree as we march out to the various limbs of the tree and onto battle.
Lassiter's POV
It's eight o'clock on a peaceful Saturday morning. I stand in front of my kitchen sink looking out the window and slowly sipping on my morning coffee. I'm just minding my own business. When do I ever not?
That's when I see them; feel their beady little eyes staring at me. They think they're being stealthy, but I know exactly what they're up to.
I'm Carlton Lassiter. Nothing gets by me.
Those conniving little nut collectors are planning to take me down and need to be taught a lesson. I'm ready to be their teacher.
"It's on," I say aloud.
I put my cup down on the counter and walk over to the pantry. Most people use their pantries to store food, but not me. No. Mine is used for a far better purpose.
I open the door of the pantry and pull out one of the many shotguns that hang on the wall. Then I grab a few boxes of ammo from my stock pile on one of the shelves and head back over to the sink. I load my gun and push open the window.
"Prepare to meet your Maker, you evil squirrels."
Red Squirrels POV
The Detective sees us. He is giving us the evil eye. The same evil eye we have seen for so long. The evil eye that has oppressed us. The one that we are fighting against today.
He walks away and comes back with a cannon and points it out the window at us.
"Stand strong, my comrades!" I encourage.
"We're going to kill him! We're going to kill him!" the squirrels chant.
Augh, they still don't get it. "Stare him down!" I order.
We turn our attention to the Oppressor and star directly into his eyes. It is exactly the same thing that we have done for so long now, but today it is not all we will do.
"Go and get the three chipmunks!" I command and two of my squirrel lieutenants scurry away to find our helpers.
Right now everything relies upon their speed and endurance.
Everything must be done at the right time.
Lassiter's POV
As soon as I aim my shot gun at those varmints they begin to make that unintelligible squeaking noise. Am I supposed to think that's cute?
Now they're staring at me, just begging me to take them on. Two of the squirrels skitter away, leaving the others as they continue to stare me down. I glare back at them.
They are probably thinking of trying something stupid; something that would make them worthy of the Idiot Spencer of the Month award. I take aim with my gun and fire a couple of warning shots – just in case – but the stupid squirrels don't even run away.
The Red Squirrel sits at the front of the pack taunting me with his little black eyes. He looks just like Shawn Spencer! I hate that squirrel even more now!
I dish out more gunfire, hoping there aren't any little old ladies taking a walk down the street today, but still the squirrels don't move.
"Stubborn Spencer Squirrels!" I yell.
The two squirrels that left have come back now, followed by more target practice; three little chipmunks.
"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," I grin.
Red Squirrel's POV
Flaming iron flies towards us as the Detective fires his cannon once more. I must encourage my fellow squirrels.
"Stand firm! Justice shall prevail!"
My two squirrel lieutenants return with our recruits from the chipmunk tribe and everyone looks to me for orders.
"We make our move now," I tell them.
"We're going to kill him!" they shout.
Moving across branches, we head quickly toward the building…and our target. He is still hanging out the window with his cannon, firing at us.
"He's a strange one. We have the advantage!" I inform my comrades.
Our target is obviously not expecting our next move, allowing us to be able to slip through the window and into his evil lair.
Some of my comrades use his surprise to their advantage and begin climbing up his arm. The Detective swats at them, but they have been training for this moment for a long time. They dodge his threatening large hand and continue to move, one of them making their way onto his head. The Detective slaps his head with his hand – a very strange man indeed – and my comrade squirrel is just able to jump and avoid being squashed.
"What do I do?" my comrade cries out.
I am not able to answer because the chipmunks beat me to it.
"Poop in his hair! Poop in his hair!" they say in unison.
Not exactly the best advice I've heard, but advice nonetheless.
The battle continues to rage on and the three chipmunks have almost successfully strung out the fishing line in order to tie our oppressor up.
Almost there…almost…
The Detective suddenly turns around and the chipmunk recruits freeze. One of them gets scared and accidentally traps himself in the string. It's so hard to find decent help these days.
The Oppressor says something in a dialect that we have not been able to crack and lifts his cannon. We all hold our breath as he aims at our trapped chipmunk friend. His finger starts to tighten on the cannon detonator, but something causes him to stop and look away.
This is our chance.
Hurriedly we move to untangle our friend from the string. We finally get him free and we all scurry out through the window, the Detective again crying out in the unknown dialect.
Lassiter's POV
The squirrels - and two chipmunks - start moving across the branches and I open fire again. They aren't going to escape me. Wait…where are they going?
"Augh!"
They are invading my house now! This will not happen!
I swat at the little pests as they begin to crawl up my arm, but they avoid every blow, leaving my arm very red and stinging with pain. One of the stupid squirrels climbs onto my head and I bring my hand down with a thud. (Note to self: You might want to get a cat-scan…just in case.) The evil rodent had once again managed to move out of the way of my hand and started squeaking.
Gosh, that's annoying!
Something alerts my attention and I turn around. The chipmunks are stringing recycled fishing line, probably in an attempt to capture me, but they didn't get too far because they freeze as soon as I turn and one of them manages to get itself caught.
"So long, chipmunk," I smirk.
I raise my shot gun. I start to pull the trigger and…
"Lassie! Yo, buddy, are you home?" a voice calls.
Spencer!
"Hey, you are home," he says coming into the kitchen with Guster. "I just wanted to-"
He stops short and it's all I can do to not kill him – and Guster – for walking into my house without an invitation. Not that I was ever going to give them one.
Spencer looks at me and says, "Lassie? You're not about to shoot that adorable little chipmunk are you?"
I don't answer. Why should I?
"Oh, my gosh! You are!" Spencer exclaims. "I don't believe you, Lassie. This chipmunk is so cute. I mean look at his little cheeks and the way they puff out like that. He looks just like Theodora from the Chipmunk movies. Are Alvin and Simon around?"
"It's Theodore, Shawn," Guster corrects him.
"I've heard it both ways," Spencer counters.
"No, you haven't."
"Yes. I have."
"No, Shawn. You haven't."
"I can't do this with you right now, buddy."
I can't take their stupidity any longer. I turn back to finish off the chipmunk.
He's gone. They're all gone.
"Hey, get back here you evil, no good, mangy little beasts!" I yell out the window.
It's too late.
"Now look what've you done, Spencer! Those pests got away!"
"Gee, Lassie," Spencer smirks. "Take it easy there. It's not the end of the world or anything."
"What are you doing in my house?" I demand.
Spencer holds up a jar of peanut butter and smiles. "Peanut butter. You were all out."
I'm pretty sure Spencer gets the message when I grimace at him, but just to make sure, I lift my gun and shoot the peanut butter jar right out of his hand.
"Eeeek!" Spencer and Guster both jump ten feet off the ground and scream as they flee from my home.
Finally. Peace.
"Where was I?" I ask myself. "Oh, yeah."
I smile and pick up my cup of coffee from the counter.
It's eight-thirty on a peaceful Saturday morning…
The End