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 beady little 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...

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 <a href="t%20shirt" onmouseover="window.status='T-shirt'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">T-shirt</a>, 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 <a href="leather%20gloves" onmouseover="window.status='leather gloves'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">leather gloves</a>, 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 <a href="left%20hand" onmouseover="window.status='left hand'; return true;" onmouseout="window.status=''; return true;">left hand</a>. 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 angry 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 on
amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather
antisocial 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.

__________________________
"Are you not Entertained"

The blood of Rome Flows through me and i shall not, I cannot Fail them

The slain Care little whether they Rise or Sleep

We should Prepair what is needed for War during Times of Peace

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, a 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, with a demonic squirrel of death 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 was 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 part way, 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, aiming a riot shotgun at
his own police car.

__________________________
"Are you not Entertained"

The blood of Rome Flows through me and i shall not, I cannot Fail them

The slain Care little whether they Rise or Sleep

We should Prepair what is needed for War during Times of Peace

Well worth the Read

__________________________
"Are you not Entertained"

The blood of Rome Flows through me and i shall not, I cannot Fail them

The slain Care little whether they Rise or Sleep

We should Prepair what is needed for War during Times of Peace

lol nice one

__________________________
It's allways been my fault

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA you should put this in the stories AHAHAHAHA, uh oh, my moms looking at me like I'm a maniach!

__________________________
"The universe is a cruel place to make a living.Even though I am beaten and battered, I WON'T GIVE UP!!"

Member of SIBC

Another day, another account gone to the wind.

Yahoo IM:Explorers012
Aim:Explorers012

lol i thought u were tho

__________________________
It's allways been my fault

ok i know this wasnt real but if it was

1 why wouldnt you comepletly stop the motorcycle and use both hands

2 was this a straight road would have to be like 5 miles long to be going 80 ms hr

3 there was no woinds because when ur doin a wheele goin 80 the slightest wind will trow you back words.... i dont it before on a yz 125 i was only goin abought 45 or 50 tho

__________________________
Who's your daddy? i am i am!

that rigth son GET R DONE

way to be a party pooper Saint, BTW I like ur avatar.

__________________________
"The universe is a cruel place to make a living.Even though I am beaten and battered, I WON'T GIVE UP!!"

Member of SIBC

Another day, another account gone to the wind.

Yahoo IM:Explorers012
Aim:Explorers012

i know i was jsut messin with yea guys... but it was funny

__________________________
Who's your daddy? i am i am!

that rigth son GET R DONE

ha ha nice

__________________________
I like you

When the universe is mine

your death will be quick and painless

thats pretty funny. although it would really suck.

__________________________
Pain is only temporary, pride is forever
(i think that is the best quote for this game)

hey.. srry for my absence... i wont be on for a while... well maybe every now and then... cya