Hoping a walk in the park would offer a respite from the 'precision demolition' incident, Leo quickly found that the universe had other plans.
He took Milo this time, leaving Max to his triumphant, dust-filled dreams. He craved the quiet, judgmental superiority of his cat over the happy-go-lucky, reality-shattering chaos of his dog.
The park was bathed in the warm light of late afternoon. It was peaceful. Deceptively so.
Leo sat on a bench, Milo curled in his lap, and took a deep breath, trying to force the image of disintegrating wrenches out of his mind.
A rustle in the branches of the oak tree above them drew his attention.
A grey squirrel scampered down the trunk, its tail twitching with an air of profound irritation. It stopped on a low branch and stared directly at Leo.
"Oh, another human," the squirrel said, its voice a dry, sarcastic rasp that seemed to echo directly inside Leo's head. "Wonderful. Just what my afternoon needed. More of you lot, cluttering up the place with your loud thoughts and your… questionable fashion choices."
Leo froze.
Milo, in his lap, went rigid, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The squirrel flicked its tail dismissively. "Oh, relax, you over-inflated fluffball. I'm not after your walking food source. I have standards."
It then turned its impossibly sharp gaze back to Leo. "And really, you call that a cat? It looks like it's been spiritually malnourished its whole life. My nephew, who lives over by the 'Miracle Pond,' has a faint glow about him. Much more impressive."
Leo's brain felt like a corrupted hard drive trying to process an impossible file. He was being roasted. By a squirrel. A squirrel who was also a spiritual connoisseur.
Milo did not take the insult well.
He leaped from Leo's lap, his fur bristling, his body radiating waves of indignant fury.
Over-inflated fluffball? Milo's thoughts screamed into Leo's mind, a side effect of their growing bond. This tree rat dares? He dares to mock my noble lineage? And my human's ability to provide sustenance?
The squirrel just chuckled, a dry, chittering sound. "Touchy, isn't he? Look, primate, just keep your pompous feline out of my nut-burying territory, and we won't have a problem."
This was it. This was the moment his sanity finally packed its bags and left for a long vacation. He was caught in the middle of a supernatural turf war between his demigod cat and a sarcastic, telepathic squirrel.
"Milo, calm down," Leo hissed, trying to sound authoritative while his world tilted on its axis.
Milo ignored him. He took a predatory step towards the tree. No one mocks my human's intellect but me! And no one questions my level of nourishment!
The squirrel, unimpressed, held up a tiny acorn. "You see this? This is a metaphor for your cat's tactical prowess. Small, predictable, and easily buried."
He then flicked the acorn with impossible speed and precision, hitting Milo squarely on the nose.
Thwack.
Milo stumbled back, shaking his head, a look of utter shock and humiliation on his face.
The squirrel let out a sound that was undeniably a laugh, then scampered back up the tree, vanishing into the leaves.
Milo stood there, frozen, the acorn lying on the ground in front of him. He had been outsmarted, outmaneuvered, and assaulted with a nut. By a squirrel.
His pride was in ruins.
He shot Leo a look of pure, unadulterated betrayal. You let this happen. You let that… rodent… best me. There will be consequences. My therapy bills, which I will communicate to you through interpretive dance and pointed glares, will be astronomical.
Leo just sank back onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.
Great. Now he was being roasted by a squirrel. And his cat was trying to commit furry assault. And he was pretty sure he was going to be subjected to a passive-aggressive ballet of feline disappointment for the foreseeable future.
He hurried away from the oak tree, Milo stalking sullenly behind him, the squirrel's chittering laughter seeming to echo in his ears.
He needed a distraction, something bigger than sarcastic rodents and their philosophical insults.
That's when he pulled out his phone, a desperate need for connection to the only other people he knew who were as crazy as his life was becoming. He opened the browser, navigating to the Urban Paranormal Society forums.
Maybe someone else had been verbally assaulted by a squirrel. It was worth a shot.
But his eyes caught a new post, pinned to the top of the board, its title glowing with dramatic urgency: "Urgent! Major spectral disturbance in the old Blackwood Manor!"