| Late that night, that dark and stormy night, Rudolph opened the door to the cabin, returning from a steak dinner from the Sizzler nearby. How he loved to get away from it all. As he lit a fire, he felt a calm, relaxing sensation. He pulled out a small, gray notebook. He had kept a journal ever since he was a little kid. He opened to a clean page…wait, there were no clean pages. Now he would have to find another notebook. “Let’s see here…nothing in the suitcase…maybe in the closet…” As he walked down the hallway to the walk-in closet, Rudolph got a gut feeling. And it wasn’t the steak. A gut feeling that there was something in the closet, waiting for him to show up. He knew that there was something in the closet, waiting for him to show up. He knew that there was something in there, yet he didn’t know what he would find. But that same gut feeling told him it wouldn’t be good. As he turned down the hallway, the closet door came into view; he stopped right in front of it. Slowly his hand stretched out to take hold of the doorknob. His knuckles turned white from grasping the doorknob so solidly and toughly. Working as one, hand and doorknob simultaneously made a ninety-degree clockwise turn. As every millisecond passed, Rudolph’s apprehension doubled. Doubled. Doubled. Finally, he could stand it no longer. Rudolph yanked open the door and tugged on the pull string that brought the light bulb blazing to life, making the tiny terror within come into view. “AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!” It was exactly what Rudolph was afraid of. Small Furry. Pink, with little red hearts all over it. But, it was the old diary that he had bought his young niece a few years ago, when the entire Jones family came up to the cabin for a week. She had never used it, and it was paper, and Rudolph desperately needed to write. So, as he scrawled down words on the first sheet of bunny-shaped stationary, he thought he heard a noise out on the porch. He ignored this, and continued writing. Tap tap tap. It was similar to the noise he thought he had heard a few moments earlier, only louder. He stopped his activity, and waited for any resuming of noise. Hearing nothing, he went back to his writing. CRASH! The sound of breaking glass filled the warm air of the cabin. Snapping his head to the direction the sound came from, Rudolph saw a small hole about the size of a golf ball in the window just to the left of the front door. Spinning on the floor, just beyond small pieces of broken glass, was an acorn. Rudolph stood up. “What the heck?” he said, “How could an acorn possibly break my window?” He reached down to pick the acorn up. As soon as he touched the acorn, he heard the front door open. He quickly snapped his head up. It wasn’t open much. Maybe just enough for a small animal to walk in, but he probably would have seen it. The wind could have opened it, but there was no wind. Just lighting and thunder. Needless to say, all Rudolph did was walk over and close it. Click, slam! Only one thing could make a noise like that coming from that direction. The back door. Now, things were starting to get weird. Shook, wham! An upstairs window had been quickly opened and closed. “What the heck is going on?” yelled Rudolph. Naturally, there was no answer. Skittle skittle skittle. Footsteps, tiny footsteps, going quickly behind him. Rudolph whipped around, but he saw nobody of nothing moving. Skittle skittle skittle upstairs. Skittle skittle skittle down the hallway. Skittle skittle skittle down the stairs. Rudolph was flabbergasted. He had no idea what was on. His heart was pumping like a freak unleashed. Finally, he heard a noise above his head. Something like chit chit chit. It didn’t sound happy. It sounded like a squirrel. Or, maybe, a chipmunk. He looked upwards. Up on the living room ceiling was one of the chipmunks that he had seen the last couple of days. With lighting speed, the chipmunk let loose its grip on the wood of the roof. It retook its grip on Rudolph’s face. Screaming like a 4-year-old girl seeing a live worm for the first time, Rudolph started spinning around in a circle, rapidly tearing at his face, trying to shake the chipmunk loose. As this was going on, Rudolph hit the back of the couch. Falling over onto the cushions, he used both hand and flung the chipmunk across the room. He heard the skittle skittle skittle of the chipmunk’s feet as it ran into the kitchen. Scrambling to his feet, Rudolph found himself breathing deeper and more rapidly than he did a few moments earlier. As he started into the kitchen, trying to see where the little intruder had went, he felt his right pant leg open. It took only a second for something to crawl halfway up his leg. Just as quickly, Rudolph felt a painful biting sensation on the inside of his right leg. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!” Screaming with every decibel his vocal chords would allow, Rudolph ripped off his pants. There, with a firm oral grip on his groin, was another chipmunk. Hopping around on his left leg, Rudolph tugged at the chipmunk, trying to free it from his loins. After struggling for about twenty seconds, he finally tore it loose and flung it towards the closed front door. Having regained his senses, Rudolph looked around. He was still in the living room, at the beginning of the hallway. Looking towards the kitchen, he saw the first chipmunk in the doorway, letting out an angry chit chit chit. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the second chipmunk jump on top of the couch. The two chipmunks looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then started looking at Rudolph. They both let out an angry-sounding chit chit chit. That’s all the message Rudolph needed. As fast as he could, he tore down the hall. As he ran, Rudolph could hear the skittle skittle skittle of the chipmunk’s feet behind him. The footsteps were getting closer, and closer, and closer. As he was passing by the door of the walk-in closet, an idea sprang into his fragile little mind. Having no time to think his plan through, he tugged at the door. It wouldn’t open. The footsteps were getting closer. He pulled on the door again. Again, it wouldn’t open. The footsteps were getting closer. He turned the doorknob, and then pulled on the door. This time it opened. Quickly he jumped in, and slammed the door shut, only milliseconds before his pursuers reached the location Rudolph had stood only moments earlier. Inside the closet, in total darkness, Rudolph could hear his attackers scratching on the other side of the door. For the first time since this fiasco began, Rudolph felt calm and safe. “Well, I guess I can wait it out in here until the little vermin wear themselves out. I don’t mind being in a closet for a while.” At the time, Rudolph heard a noise behind him, inside the closet. Something like chit chit chit. It didn’t sound happy. It almost sounded like a squirrel. Or, maybe (no, forget the maybe. At this point in the story, it would take almost a complete dolt to not say definitely) a chipmunk. Needless to say, it was the spanning of half a heartbeat when Rudolph felt something jump onto his shoulder and proceed to take a big bite into his trapezius. The door to his closet opened with enough force to knock the two chipmunks into the wall. Meanwhile, Rudolph bolted out of the closet and back towards the living room, while doing his best to try and break loose from his shoulder the chomping third chipmunk. As he approached the living room, he finally got the chipmunk loose. He did a half-spin, and threw the chipmunk back into the hallway, where his two acquaintances were starting to regain their feet. Making the turn a full one, he jumped over the couch like an Olympic hurdler, and then sprinted into the master bedroom. He slammed the door, and snapped the deadbolt into place. Rudolph was breathing so hard, he was panting. Peering through the keyhole, he couldn’t see any of the chipmunks out in the living room. Nor could he hear them scratching on the door. In fact, he couldn’t hear them making any noise whatsoever. 5 minutes passed. No noise. 10 minutes passed. No noise. 15 minutes passed. Rudolph heard a noise. Something like ring ring ring. It didn’t sound like a squirrel. It didn’t sound like a chipmunk, either. Probably because it was the telephone. Rudolph picked up the receiver. “Hello?” “chit chit chit.” Rudolph slammed down the phone. A minute later, the phone rang again. “Hello?” “chit chit chit.” Rudolph slammed down the phone again. 2 minutes later, the phone rang again. This time, Rudolph decided to tell them off. He picked up the receiver. “All right, listen you little, puny, bite-size spawns of Satan. I don’t know what your problem is, but if you want to fight, then you’re going to get a fight. YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET THE DAY YOU CROSSED ME, YOU PATHETIC, ROTTEN, LITTLE SONS OF BI…” “…uh, Mr. Jones?” After a few awkward moments, Rudolph replied, “Yes, this is Mr. Jones.” “This is Julie from OnStar. We received a signal that your airbag deployed, and…click.” Rudolph slammed the phone down, sprinted to the window, and looked out. Sure enough, bashed into a large ponderosa, was his brand-new, fully loaded Ford Explorer with leather interior and custom wheels. “Oh well,” said Rudolph, “At least that’s fixable.” At that moment, he heard a large CRACK! Seconds later, a large branch, 3 feet thick, smashed through the top of the Explorer. All the windows broke, the axels snapped, the doors blew open, and the car alarm started going off. Rudolph groaned in agony. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr r… The noise was coming from the living room. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr r… It sounded real familiar. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rr rr rr rr rr rr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr r… It was a chainsaw. A Stihl…rrrrrrrrrr rr rr rr rr rr… no, wait, a Homelite…rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr… chain just sharpened…rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr rr… needs a tune-up and an oil change. Just as Rudolph realized that it was a Homelite with a just-sharpened chain that needed a tune-up and an oil change, it was already cutting a hole in the bedroom door just large enough for a chipmunk to fit through. He began to panic. Soon, the ferocious forest dwellers would be in the room with him. There was no way to escape except…the window! Rudolph tried to open the window. Of course, it wouldn’t open an inch. There was only one option: He would have to break the window. Looking around the room, Rudolph spotted four things sitting in a corner: a large rock, a brick, a sledgehammer, and a good-sized bottle of Dom Perrigon, 1978. He picked up the bottle, opened it up, took a sip, and then broke the window with the bottle. Don’t worry; ’78 wasn’t a great year, anyways. As Rudolph dove headfirst out the window, he could hear the dreaded chit chit chit in the room behind him. Quickly he scrambled to his bare feet. As he reached the trail that led to the back door of the cabin, he could hear a flurry of chit chit chit behind him. Passing through the door, he looked at the trail he had just run down. There, about 100 feet from the door, scampering along the ground, were the chipmunks, headed full-blast towards him. It was right then that a plan was hatched within Rudolph’s head. It was risky, but it could possibly work. The timing had to be perfect. Rudolph held both his hands on the door. The chipmunks were 50 feet away. His heart began to race. The chipmunks were 25 feet away. His palms were sweating. The chipmunks were now at 10 feet…9…8…7…6…5… with all the strength in his body, he slammed the door shut. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Three chipmunk noggins met solid oak. Silence. More silence. Followed by a tad more silence. Rudolph peered out the window. Laid out on the back porch were the chipmunks. It didn’t look like they were breathing. Could they actually be dead? Rudolph opened the door. The chipmunks just lied there. He yelled, “Hey, suckers! I’m right here!” The chipmunks just lied there. “Come on, you’ve been after me non-stop! Now here I am, just standing here. Take you best shot!” The chipmunks just lied there. He poked one in its stomach. It didn’t move, nor did its two counterparts. “I don’t believe it. I killed them. I actually killed them!” Looking up towards the dark, cloudy sky, he yelled in jubilance, “They’re dead. They’re gone! I don’t have to deal with them anymore. They’re finally de…AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” The scream vaporized into the night, as the chipmunks (who were playing possum, in case you haven’t caught onto that yet) descended upon him. * * * * * * * * * * * continue |