ACORN: Sir, have you ever considered collecting vintage comic books instead of acorns?
SQUIRREL: Why would I do that? I’m collecting these acorns to get me through the coming winter.
ACORN: Yeah, it’s good to have short term goals. But it’s even better to have long term strategies that will get you through, not only the winter, but through many, many winters.
SQUIRREL: Well, I can eat acorns, I can’t eat a vintage comic book.
ACORN: No doubt, no doubt. However, some of those first editions are rumored to be quite tasty. ( chuckles ) My point is… every fall you go around collecting acorns and it amounts to little more than a cyclical, vicious cycle. It’s pointless and redundant, would you not agree?
SQUIRREL: Yup, just like the next to the last thing you just said. Are you trying to call me stupid or something?
ACORN: Oh, no, no, no, I would never call you stupid, Mr. Squirrel, sir. It’s just that…
SQUIRREL: What?
ACORN: Respectfully, you don’t have to collect vintage comic books per se. It could be rare coins, stamps, or Pokemon cards, for instance. All of which could pay a large dividend down the road to subsidize, and the ultimately replace, your acorn habit.
SQUIRREL: I like acorns.
ACORN: No, doubt, no doubt. But once you cash in on these other alternative collections, you’ll have so much money, you’ll be able to live off more than just nuts.
SQUIRREL: I like acorns.
ACORN: Acorns have no value!
SQUIRREL: Oh, okay, I see what’s going on here.
ACORN: What do you see?
SQUIRREL: You’re trying to turn me off of acorns… so that I won’t try to collect you… store you up in my tree, and eat you sometime in the dead of this winter.
The Acorn stalls.
ACORN: No, you don’t want to eat me. I’m rotten under this pristine shell, the result of a nasty Sepsis infection gone buck wild.
SQUIRREL: Right… lucky for you, I’ve already got enough acorns for the winter.
ACORN: You have enough acorn for the winter, you say?
SQUIRREL: Yup, I’m all set, and don’t try to get me to release these here acorns I got in my arms at the moment.
ACORN: Yeah, I don’t know any of those acorns, so I don’t really care what happens to them.
SQUIRREL: You’re a heartless little bastard, aren’t you?
ACORN: Not really, because I can tell from here that those acorns in your arms are empty inside.
SQUIRREL: Like I believe that.
ACORN: Like my ex-wife!
SQUIRREL: What?!
ACORN: How is it that you can carry all those acorns at once?
SQUIRREL: I’m strong.
ACORN: You’re weak… the acorns are empty, ravaged and hollowed out by Sepsis! Listen to me, you fool! We go way back. Would I lie to you?
SQUIRREL: We’ve been talking for five minutes. I don’t even know your name, and yes, you would lie to me!
ACORN: Okay… fair enough.
SQUIRREL: And by the way… I already own a 1940’s, copy of the Amazing Spiderman #15.
ACORN: Really?!
SQUIRREL: Yup, mint condition.
ACORN: You said you didn’t own any vintage comic books, so you lied to me.
SQUIRREL: No, I didn’t. I said I couldn’t eat a vintage comic book. Because a two million dollar meal would be very hard to digest.
The Squirrel runs off, leaving the Acorn in stunned silence.
END