If you take on the squirrels with your new weapon

You are fed up.

Every driver you see is wearing a fake latex mask that barely hides the squirrel inside...tufts of squirrel hair and obvious seams in the latex.

The whole radius of drivers around you can sense your unease and out of no where comes a cop car. You didn't even see the crow spot you and fly off.

The cop had large squirrel eyes, eye fat bulging out of the fake latex mask, dead eyes but large and nervous. "Lay down the weapon and put your hands on your head..."

You squeeze off the trigger like you are in a dream. A commitment like grabbing that first smoke after quitting for 21 days...or my 19 year old Neurocam buddy who almost had a Yass Wadah agent take him out of the run for the Presidency of the United States. A simple thoughtless commitment...like cumming without a rubber on. The bullets seem to roll out of your spine. Swell within your crotch and find their way out the long metal muzzle in your hands.

The blue uniform is now a blood wet rag splattered all over the smoking squad car...empty except for smoking hamburger. It smells pretty good and makes you hungry and wish you had a taco pop.

Feeling light-headed you spin on your axis and almost seem to be watching yourself as you tear through traffic one car at a time, electric blots snaking and hissing before they explode squirrel flesh and hair into savory vapors.

To your left there is one Delivery Van that you have not yet destroyed...something inside you tells you to wait. The driver scurries out and tries to run. The blast sends him a block and a half down the street, tumbling like a piece of trash in the wind.

You hear a faint cry from the van. You open the door and you see a girl bound in the back.