Steven v. the Wilde Beastes

Steven: 1
Wilde Beastes: 0

He really should pick on someone his own size. My cave man slaughtered a squirrel today. He's been chowing down on Sunflower fruit JingXia has been trying to dry out--for weeks now--and generally creating all manner of mayhem in the garden. Lately, he'd taken to chewing through the screen to get on our screened porch, where Ma had safeguarded the Sunflower pods from the little bastard. Just this morning, Steven observed him molesting Mike and Jane's new bird feeder next door, and found that he'd attacked the Aloe plant again. Well, later Steven heard a crash, went to check, and le terrorsite had knocked a vase over and smashed it while practically foraging in our fridge (only a few more feet away). Now, Steven has known that the time for diplomacy and negotiation has passed. Carrots failing, it was now time for a stick. Taking advantage of the fact that the terrorist was at a dead end, trapped in a relatively confined space (our screened porch, not Tora Bora), Steven grabbed a handy stick (leftover 80 year old lath pieces in the corner from our recent plaster demolition careers), and proceeded to beat the living shit of the squirrel. He's in a Heavy-Duty Contractor Black bag now, awaiting his Thursday trip to final destination at the Athens-Hocking landfill. Let's hope the Reign of Terror is over (regardless of what Petraeus has to say about it).