Squirrel Attack Horror

Huntingdon, where they recaptured their youth (14 year old Arnold, who they rent out to the man at number 16). The first sign of trouble was the appearance of two threatening replica squirrels at their doorway. In trepidation, they entered their dream house at 1 The Tip, Beechwood and found Mayhem! "Yes!" exclaimed Betty "she's our neighbour, and she'd broken into the house because she heard a tap dripping!". Betty continued with a shudder "and thank God she did! She'd found nuts everywhere! Some of them were Barry's, and he's still recovering from the shock. (that is enough! Ed.) But really, the whole place was a mess. There were scratch marks on the parquet, parking marks on the scratchet, and the bidet was blocked." Betty went on " and I found this big bin liner hidden up the chimney - just as I looked in it, Barry grabbed it off me and rushed off in all directions - he said it was something dangerous the spirit had left. I only glimpsed something like a flesh-coloured li-lo with hair stuck to it, and some kind of leather mask with studs on - it must have been something horrible, but my Barry acted swiftly and saved me - he's a saint!" .

Betty glanced at him tenderly "He's suffered, you know" she confided "all those conferences, all that driving, all those drinks and dinners and staying away from home most of the week, and often at weekends, all that perfume spilled on his clothes by his drunken friends as he worked on the accounts, that black dress with the stains on that he wipes his windscreen with, all that hard work which helped us buy this house along with the £30,000,000 I won on the lottery, all that....." Betty paused "you know it's the first time I really thought about all that, you know" She gazed at Barry, stumbling aimlessly into the Liberace pottery ink dispenser. "The bastard! I just realised....." This reporter will tactfully draw a veil over the next few minutes - it seemed like the malevolent influence of the spirit rodent "Old Bushey" had entered us all! Even I took my turn at kicking poor Barry as he lay on the scratchet, blows raining on him from the crazed Betty's fists. A sobbing Mayhem had joined in, claiming that Barry had 'looked at her funny' in 1992, and 67-year old Doris from next door ran in claiming Barry was her "love-child by another woman". After an night of madness, in which the Danish woman from across the road threw a bucket of water over Barry's toupée, shouting "that's the last time you play that game with me!" we all slunk ashamedly away, shaken and troubled by the force that had clearly taken us over and despoiled our lives.

I went back to the house again the next day. The curtains were drawn, there was no sign of life, and a calm stillness hung over the site of the madness of the day before. Birds sang, and only the faint sound of clinking chains came from number 16. Wafting on the air came the smell of Danish 'Moöglesbrød' (traditionally served at animal resurrection parties in the Irish Congo) and mulled Tizer. In the distance, I caught a glimpse of the bent figure of Mayhem, as she scuttled round listening for open doors and ticking clocks in people's houses. All was well, the curse seemed to have lifted, and sanity reigned once again in the Estate. I began to hum a happy tune and nibble at some currants that lay sprinkled over the step as if in tribute to the kindly spirits who had saved us from "Old Bushey".

Then a window opened and a tousled head poked out - it was Betty. I gave a cheery wave, and hummed the more. "Piss off you Bastard or I'll set the squirrels on you!" Betty cried. A rustling in the exquisitely-tended executive bushes betrayed a baleful presence, something large, moving purposefully. I ran!

Horror entered the lives of Betty and Barry Goodheart when they found their £400,000 executive residence in the select Beechwood Park Executive Estate ravaged by spirit squirrels. A clearly distraught Betty (98) told us " it was horrible - really awful! It was "Old Bushey" - it must have been". Barry (61) shook his head and agreed " I've never seen anything like it - I was brought up near Watford and this is worse than anything there". In recent weeks, this newspaper has reported several sightings of a mysterious spirit squirrel-like presence, in the Beechwood Park Executive Estate for the Benignly Conurbated™. Well-known as a haven of suburban respectability in the Felden-not-Boxmoor™ area, this is an unlikely place for mass hysteria and scandal. Residents, however, are desperate for help with the phonomenon "Old Bushey™", as it seems his presence is far from friendly. At least half the residents of the Estate have at some time complained about their nuts (enough! Ed,), and people generally have reported bushes rustling in a menacing manner, mysterious missing cats, and the mystery of why some cats have not gone missing. All these phenomena are ascribed to "Old Bushey", a monstrous, giant mutated squirrel, whose spirit roams the earth after dying in agony when his nuts were crushed during a tree fall in the 'Great Gale™' (more than enough--Ed) . The latest squirrel saga began when Betty and Barry returned from a weekend in