It was early this morning when we first noticed a problem. We were sitting down to our usual Sunday breakfast of fritters and KISS dates, when we noticed something odd about

This space was blank.

It was supposed to contain the dates for the upcoming U2 tour, along with information about attending an unannounced Pink Floyd concert. Imagine our surprise when we were greeted by a white Web page. Clearly, trouble was afoot.

We revved up the roadster and made haste to the campus, where upon entering, we were greeted by a demonic chatter. Our heart skipped a beat upon the realization that our worst nightmare had become reality. It was a trap, and before us stood the most dastardly enemy ever to face mankind.

It was the squirrels.

Not only had the bushy-tailed scepters of death breached our security, but they had also bound and gagged our Webmaster, and were threatening to do to him what they do to acorns. Inhumanity, thy name is squirrel.

We pulled out the one weapon squirrels the world over fear most. Five feet long and jammed with tour dates for Backstreet Boys, Bob Dylan and Jo Dee Messina, it was called the “weapon to end all wars.” Its official name was Squirrel Frequency eXterminator.

We liked to call it SFX.

We blasted the squirrels with Insane Clown Posse dates. We sprayed them Meat Puppets dates, gave ’em both barrels of Dee Dee Ramone and sent em running when we switched to burst mode and fired rounds upon rounds of Everlast dates.

It’s over now, but not without cost. Our Webmaster is squirrel-shocked, and will have to undergo weeks of deep inner flotation therapy, another victim to the squirrels’ incessant war against humanity. The squirrels worked their evil magic, leaving our Webmaster alive, but different than he was before.

Just like they did with Al Gore.