I put the proverbial pedal to the metal and zoomed like an ignited rocket strapped to the back of a rotten banana. I turned this way and that way, sometimes even at intersections, determined to lose that spooky sea spider. And I might have too, if it hadn't been for the dead end with no outlet. I screeched to a stop, desperately aware of the approaching seafood, and realized that it was finally the end of the road for me. Literally. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face, prepared to meet my doom.
A loud squeaky shrill interrupted my hasty prayers, and I peeked through my fingers to see an enraged, larger than life squirrel facing off against my pursuer. It never once occurred to me that this squirrel was far too large to hang out in the neighborhood trees; all I knew was that I had never seen a finer tree rodent in my entire life. Its furry tail glistened in the sun, and its beady eyes glowed with a black sheen that was positively radiant. I could even hear an ethereal choir humming "Do-Wah-Diddy" in the background.
They took their stances on either side of the road, paws and claws at their sides, readying themselves for the quick draw that would determine my fate.
The crab drew but quickly discovered it actually had no pockets, and the squirrel reacted by reaching behind its furry butt and producing the biggest walnut I had ever seen! Almost in slow motion, the squirrel wound back and pitched that nut at the crab, jumping in glee as the nut bounced on the asphalt a few times before plowing into the crab and smooshing it immediately... confirming my suspicions that the crab had been a soft shell after all.
I trembled with gratitude and a sudden longing for a huge bowl of melted butter. My glorious squirrel savior scurried over to the crab carcass and pried open its flattened claw, extracting the straw wrapper with its teeth. In light of the magnanimous triumph that the squirrel had victored just for me, I was promptly humbled and understood the lesson I had just been given.
Squirrel god dropped the paper delicately in my outstretched hands and scampered away. "Thank you, master!" I cried. "I will forever cherish the pansophy gleaned from you this day!"
The squirrel stopped, stood upright for a moment, and then turned to me. Even though I never saw its mouth move, I could clearly hear its wise words of wisdom:
"Only YOU can stop forest fires."
And then it was gone, leaving me with the memory of its sublime intervention and the price of my salvation. I held back my tears and begged squirrel god to take me with him, but I understood why I could not go. I was to be his disciple, called forth to go and spread the wondrous message of the Squirrel... also known as the gospel of Sciuridae Mammalia.
So yeah, it was just another regular morning. Nothing special.