Paranoia strikes deep in the heart of a UCLA student

Sunday, July 28, 1996

Squirrels threaten internal breach of campus security

Only a few things on this earth truly terrify me: AIDS, spiders,
chemistry tests, hairy men in Speedos and squirrels. But out of all
of them, I think that squirrels are the worst. I’ll tell you why.
There I was, sitting in front of the Men’s Gym, happily eating my
tantalizing, painfully-expensive Taco Supreme bought with some
change I had to scrounge around for in the dustbunny-filled space
under my bed.

A sudden strange chirping noise came from the bushes to my left.
Startled, I quickly turned my head in the direction of the noise,
dropping my tasty taco in my surprise onto the dirty floor. SPLAT!
"Shit," I thought, staring in disbelief at my cracked taco lying
pitifully in a mound of leaves and various bug parts, "there goes a
good buck’s worth of food." Before I could manage another thought,
it suddenly darted out of the bushes squealing like Michael
Jackson. A scurrying mass of mangy fur and a pair of black,
soulless beady eyes were all my eyes registered as the little
monster hurried towards me. My mind was spinning as I leapt out of
the way. I put my backpack in front of my head in case it decided
to jump on my face and ran down to Towell at a speed that would
have made a UCLA track coach proud.

After a few minutes, I caught my breath and gathered my courage
to go back and get my backpack. My backpack lay there, untouched,
but my once-beloved, recently-crushed taco was missing. Then, I
heard that chirping noise again, from up above in a nearby tree.
There, squatting imperiously on a branch like a furry Jabba the
Hut, was the fattest, foulest squirrel ever to crawl out of the
rodent family. It looked at me with a sly, evil smirk on its face
as his glistening, foaming jaws chomped on my prized taco, which
was tightly gripped between his greasy paws. Little fat bastard.
Angrily, I pulled my chemistry book out so I could chuck it at his
tiny head. No, dummy, I thought to myself, you need this book. What
else are you going to use to prop up your TV set?

Now, you all know what I’m talking about, so don’t gimme any of
that "Is this guy smoking crack?" nonsense. Y’all are just afraid
to confront the issue. I know I’m not the first guy to have ever
been chased down Bruin Walk by one of those rabid rodents
chattering maniacally with its bushy tail raised high in attack
mode, and I know I’m definitely not the first to have to walk 10
feet around some trash can because one of those fat, foul monsters
was sitting on it, staring at me smugly. I always think one of them
is going to yell "Banzai!" and jump on my face. Those little
bastards!

Sure, I know some of you out there have been deluded into
thinking that squirrels are cute little pals to be loved and
cherished by the UCLA community. Don’t you believe it! It’s all
part of their master plan to take over our beloved school.
Somewhere in the Botanical Garden, Sparky, the High Nutmaster
Squirrel, is plotting his next move against us. Now I’m not
suggesting an all-out war against these ugly mammals ­ that
would be costly, and many lives would be lost, what with their
guerrilla rodent tactics.

There must be an alternative solution. A particularly insightful
film I saw recently on USA Up All Night at 3 in the morning
("Revenge of the Planet Apes") may have provided me with a solution
to the dilemma. Squirrel Mind Control! No, I don’t drop acid, and
yes, I do get enough sleep at night. Just bear with me. Perhaps we
could deceive the squirrels by offering them a mound of almonds
carefully laced with sleeping powder as a sign of peace. Once they
succumb to their own drowsiness, we could easily place special
mind-control helmets that have been created by our brilliant UCLA
scientists upon their heads. These helmets would make them follow
our every command. Imagine the UCLA utopia! Hate that waiting in
line for that annoying bookbag check? Just let your special
squirrel pal protect it for you! Scared of Bruin Walk vendors? Just
bring along your special rabid squirrel buddy! A little maniac
squirrel on the face will show that Jews for Jesus guy! Need a cool
drink to slake your unbelievable summer thirst, but you’re out of
change? Send your "little helper" up the Coke machine to grab a
nice cold one. Don’t have a date to that Greek social? Never
mind.

Anyway, it’s only a suggestion. Other solutions are also
possible. A united front of squirrel and Bruin would be a mighty
force to be reckoned with indeed. In any case, we gotta get our
butts in gear ‘cuz they ain’t waiting. Everyday they get stronger
and stronger. Soon they will strike. Remember, Sparky’s
watching.

Torres is a third-year psychology student who’s scared of
squirrels.