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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1593235
Located in picturesque Squirrel Valley, the Nutcracker Nut Factory is open to group tours.
Originally this was a 1000 word Writer's Cramp contest entry, but I have since made some alterations to the beginning and added to the end to bring the story to a better resolution. Original Prompt was to write a story about a massive squirrel infestation.

Nutcracker Sweet


“Oooh! Me nuts!” Hamish exclaimed, jumping up from his desk. The shift supervisor rushed out the door of his office overlooking the Nutcracker nut packaging facility, calling out to his workers as he clattered down the aluminum stairs to the factory floor.

“Shoo! Shoo!” Hamish flailed his arms wildly at the multitude of squirrels which had suddenly appeared all over the facility and were delightedly collecting and munching on Hamish's tasty nuts.

Paddy and Mick leaned idly against a forklift where Jimmy sat with his arms crossed on the steering wheel.

“It's no good boss!” Jimmy shouted after Hamish who managed to grab hold of a squirrel only for the animal to turn and run up his arm. It jumped from the top of his head to land in an open packing crate resulting in an explosion of walnuts.

“You better get the man in.” Paddy said to the factory manager as he rushed past and climbed the stairs to his office, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Who's the man?” Mick asked with an inclination of his head and stroke of his goatee beard.

“The squirrel man?” Jimmy asked.

Paddy shook his head slowly. “The Snake-man!”

Mick pointed past the hordes of squirrels to the clock.

“Looks like smoko time!”

No sooner had Mick spoken, then there was a chorus of “Smoko!” Smoko.” “Smoko!” as another twenty-five Nutcracker employees who had been working in various hidey-holes around the factory emerged and headed with Mick, Jimmy and Paddy to the staff room.

When the trio returned after their snack-break, a tall man dressed in snake-skin jacket and pants and wearing a battered old brown hat was talking with Hamish, the factory manager.

“What's the verdict, chief?” Mick asked.

“I have conducted a regulation level three reconnaissance of the facility and have come to the conclusion that you have....” Snakeman paused for a moment as if performing some great mathematical calculation in his head before continuing, “...a squirrel infestation!”

“You don't say?” Paddy opened his eyes widely in mock astonishment. “Are you sure? Perhaps you should conduct a level four reconnaissance? Just to be certain.”

“No. No need!” Snakeman waved the idea away with a flick of his fingers. Paddy's sarcasm was lost on the reptilian skinned pest controller. “Although for a extra constricted charge of $50 I will perform the level 4 reconnaissance if you wish?”

“Don't bother.” Hamish interjected. “Just tell us how we get rid of the squirrels.”

“Easy!” The Snakeman's leathery face broke into a crooked smile as he snapped his fingers. This would seem to indicate that the solution would be instantaneous, magical, effortless.

“No nuts....” Snakeman informed them. “....no squirrels.”

Silence fell upon the group and their brows were furrowed in confusion.

“He means you'll have to package up and retrieve as much stock as you can.” Hamish said sternly.

For a brief moment there were twenty-eight pale faces frozen in open-mouthed shock. Some poked out from packing crates, some from behind scales and factory equipment, others stuck out at angles from all sorts of odd nooks and crannies. All the while squirrels were bounding and leaping, chomping and gnawing on the precious produce; between, around and on the factory workers who all appeared at the one moment before vanishing as synchronously again leaving the squirrels to their bounty.

“Haven't you got any traps or anything?” Jimmy pleaded with the Snakeman.

“Sure. Got heaps. Won't do any good though.”

“Why's that?”

“Well, they're snake traps, ain't they? I'm the Snakeman, see? See my jacket? See my pants? What do you think this is? Squirrel fur? I trap, train, teach and tame asps, adders, vipers, pythons, serpents and snakes. Don't know nothing about no damn squirrels 'cept no nuts means no damn squirrels.”

“Are you getting crotchety?”

“No gangdammit, ya confounded whippersnapper.” Snakeman stopped. “Okay, maybe a little. It's just all these damn squirrels has got me squirrelly, gangdammit.”

“I just thought that because snakes were natural predators of the squirrel, you would know how to get rid of them?” Hamish told the snakeman.

“You need Squirrelman!” Snakeman stated emphatically.

“That's what I said.” Jimmy nodded.

Snakeman was able to supply Hamish with his associate's cell phone number. As Hamish was pushing the numbers into his own phone, he called out to the workers.

“Okay. Until Squirrelman arrives, we may as well start collecting up as much undamaged stock as we can. Jimmy! I want you and Paddy to check around and see if you can find out where these squirrels came from in the first place. Mick! Go next door and see if they've...”

The lunch hooter sounded cutting Hamish off.

“Lunch, boss.” Mick said, walking towards the staff room. Everyone else was already there, except the squirrels of course.

Hamish waved him away and began speaking into the cell phone as he headed up the metal staircase to his office.

After lunch, Jimmy and Paddy headed outside to try to identify the source of the squirrel infestation. Mick saw that the Snakeman was back talking to Hamish and went over to them.

“Snakeman!” Mick said. “What's up?”

“Squirrelman.” Squirrelman corrected him.

Mick looked him up and down. He was dressed in snake skin jacket and pants with the same old battered brown hat. He looked exactly the same as Snakeman.

“Level three?” Mick asked.

“Completed!” Squirrelman said, taking off his battered hat and thumping it a few times into another uneven shape before replacing it.

“It is my sad duty to have to warn you that there is a possibility of an imminent squirrel infestation.” He informed them gravely.

“Possible?” Mick coughed and gagged in exasperation.

“I would recommend a level four reconnaissance as soon as possible.” Squirrelman looked up and began calculating in his head. “This service is now available at a discounted rate of only of $104.50.”

“Mate! There are squirrels here now. Everywhere!” Mick said

“Of which I might remind you...” Squirrelman nodded, raising an eyebrow and making a tick in the air with his index finger, “...their imminence I did predict.”

“Forget it! Just get rid of them all,” Hamish demanded angrily.

“That's easy,” Squirrelman said and clicked his fingers as if the solution would be instantaneous, effortless and magical.

Suddenly the squirrels stopped and looked up. They collected as many nuts as they could and began abandoning the packing crates and nut stores. Squirrels leapt from high shelves to join the rivers of squirrels that streamed and squirmed along the aisles. They began pouring out the doors and windows of the Nutcracker nut packaging facility, carrying Sleepy Pete along on their backs as he rested after a strenuous lunch-break.

“How did you do it?” Mick regarded Squirrelman with awe as Hamish counted out the cash to pay him.

The tall lean figure just shrugged. “I'm the Snakeman.”

“Don't you mean Squirrelman?” Hamish asked, hesitating mid-count.

“Exactly!” The snake skin sheathed Squirrelman nodded and smiled. “Squirrelman! That's me.”

Hamish shot a glance at Mick before slowly counting out the rest of the money. When the transaction had been completed, Squirrelman took off his hat and bowed. As he was leaving the Nutcracker factory his cell phone began ringing. He fished it out of his snake skin jacket and went to speak into it before pausing and first looking at the number on the display. Jimmy and Paddy were just coming back into the facility as Squirrelman spoke into the phone.

As they approached Mick and Hamish, Jimmy looked at Paddy.

“Did Snakeman just answer his phone as Possum-man?”

“You mean Squirrelman.” Hamish said sadly, as he perused what remained of his stocks. Apart from husks and crumbs, the nut factory had been cracked and cleared of its entire inventory. Amongst the carnage Paddy retrieved a slip of paper from one of the packing crates.

“What's that?” Mick asked.

“It's a brochure for some travelling show,” Jimmy said, reading over Paddy's shoulder. “Come see the Amazing Snakeman and his Performing Fauna. Featuring snakes, squirrels, possums, and other curiosities including the Two Tailed Dog and the Night-Blind Cat.”

“Wow!” Mick took a seat in a forklift and began playing with the tilting levers, raising and lowering the forks. “That sounds like fun. I might go.” Paddy and Jimmy nodded. “ How about you, boss?”

“Already been,” Hamish replied, forgetting the problems of the factory for a moment and nodding enthusiastically. “Took Morag and the kids last Saturday. It's well worth it just for...”

The hooter sounded cutting the shift supervisor short. Mick jumped off the forklift and pointed his thumb back over his shoulder at the clock.

“Knockoff, boss!” he said, raising his eyebrows and half-turning. The rest of Nutcracker crew emerged from all corners of the factory and began streaming and squirming down the aisles like a river of streaming squirming squirrels towards the exit.

“Right,” Hamish said to the departing Mick. “I'll finish that sentence tomorrow morning at 8 am sharp!”

Hamish turned to head back up the stairs to the supervisor's office and walked smack bang into the end of one of the forklift forks that Mick had left suspended at just below waist level.

“Oooh!” Hamish wailed. “Me nuts!”
© Copyright 2009 mjp ink (dreamscaper at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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