Canada Kicks Ass
Why Cops don't patrol Brice st anymore

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ChrissyP @ Sun Dec 19, 2004 11:34 am

A friend of mine e-mailed me this one enjoy!

Why the cops don't patrol Brice St. anymore.

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect...

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and
slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot
out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It
was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when
it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there
was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close. I hate to run
over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel
should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the
impact. Animal lovers never fear -- Squirrels, I discovered, can take
care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was
standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast
resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last
possible second, he screamed and leapt ! I am pretty sure the scream
was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, " Die you
gravy-sucking, heathen scum !" The leap was nothing short of
spectacular ... as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and
impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have
sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of
activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding
gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry
little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a
quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few
misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I
flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into
the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.

It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have
headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary
pissed-off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and,
with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump
and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his
rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also
managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not
improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now
I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least.

The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the
throttle hand ) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately
put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A
healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one
result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very,
very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the
pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in
ecstasy. I screamed in ... well...I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on
his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on
the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving
the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to
crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet
figured out how to release the throttle ... my brain was just simply
overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the
squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very
serious battle ( maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of
death ), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet
with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my
face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little
effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on The Dragon maxed out
(since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end
started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans,a very raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy
squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By
now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the
upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my
helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it
worked... sort-of ... spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene: You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off
on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do
some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser,
dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing
only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and
screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live
squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...I managed to get the big motorcycle
under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used
maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the
stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (
and to get my glove back ). I really would have. Really. Except
for two things.

First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned
about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of
the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side
was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly
moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat
was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own
police car. So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist
to let the professionals handle it," anyway.

That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and
flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could
also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little
fist at me, shooting me the finger ... That is one dangerous squirrel.
And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car ... but it
was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right
turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I
decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some
Band-Aids.

   



Rev_Blair @ Sun Dec 19, 2004 11:56 am

:lol:

   



gotteck @ Fri Dec 31, 2004 6:54 am

LOL

OMFG

Thats great!!!!!

   



RoyalHighlander @ Fri Dec 31, 2004 8:54 am

gotteck gotteck:
LOL

OMFG

Thats great!!!!!


:lol: 8O 8O :P :lol: :o 8O :wink: :roll:

   



Robair @ Fri Dec 31, 2004 10:58 am

Was anybody else cheering for the squirrel?

   



figfarmer @ Fri Dec 31, 2004 12:32 pm

And I thought a bumble bee in the helmet was exciting.

   



jorgealarcon @ Sun Jul 08, 2012 11:02 am

Rev_Blair Rev_Blair:
:lol:

That is one funny story. Thanks for sharing it here.

Despammed

   



Brenda @ Sun Jul 08, 2012 11:55 am

You couldn't resist, now, fucktard, could you.

   



raydan @ Sun Jul 08, 2012 12:04 pm

An 8 year necro spam... on one side, I'm impressed... but on the other, I have the irresistible urge to shove an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH up your ass. :twisted:

   



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