Befouling The Beaver

Befouling the Beaver, by Lex Jurgen, published by Decorum International, 2021.

David Squirrel didn’t look like other squirrels in his scurry. His coat was uneven and blotchy. His tail was hardly bushy, but rather, twisted and gnarled like an old pipe cleaner. His eyes were often seen darting wildly back and forth.

The other squirrels in the woods thought David must be rabid. But David reassured them it wasn’t rabies, it was these darn red oak acorns he couldn’t quit. David dug that tannin rush, no matter the cost.

But from the least likely sources come the greatest heroes. As Fate would have it, David Squirrel was on guard duty in Threadbare Forest the day the beavers arrived.

Many people believe beavers are nice animals. But beavers rank just below koala bears for being Mother Nature’s most insidious animal creatures. For centuries French Canadians killed beavers simply because they were jealous of how unlikable they were. Those French Canadian men are all dead now. The beavers survived.

Beavers build large dams in streams and rivers to create gentle ponds where they can build their homes, safe from predators. Many woodland animals want to eat beavers both for food and to shut them up as they are really not very nice, and nobody likes them.

Beavers use their large incisor teeth to gnaw on trees. Since they are too fat to climb, beavers will chew right through an entire tree until it falls over so they can eat all the bark off the tree. They may bring the tree back to their homes and store the trunks for extra food. Though they only eat the bark. Beavers are environmentally wasteful creatures that even other members of the rodent family don’t care for.

The day the beavers arrived in Threadbare Forest, every woodland animal was super pissed. Not including coyotes or snakes, who eat beavers while everybody else applauds.

The most alarmed of the animals in the woods might be the squirrels. Squirrels live in trees, and while nobody likes squirrels, they are much less unliked than beavers.

For one, squirrels don’t fornicate with their children like beavers do. Though that may just be woodland lore and many beavers have denied this allegation angrily through the years. But most certainly, squirrels don’t mindlessly gnaw down the homes of other animals. That takes a real asshole.

On this brisk Fall morning, Gus Beaver led his beaver colony into Threadbare Forest. A colony is the word used to describe a group of beavers who don’t give a fuck about you or anybody else.

Gus and his gang of twenty beavers strode up from the river and toward the set of trees the squirrels called home. David Squirrel was the first to spot them. And David Squirrel was too wasted on acorns to be scared of anything.

Before Gus could get his nasty gnawing incisors into the base of a tree, David leapt onto a tall branch high above Gus.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you dumb ass bitch Beaver,” chirped David.

“Mind your business, squirrel,” retorted Gus without even bothering to look up into the tree. Gus slammed his incisors into the tree trunk and began to gnaw. Like most beavers, Gus simply did not give a fuck.

David was livid. Not like a regular squirrel gets uppity, but like a crazy squirrel who self-medicates gets angry. Like to the point your little squirrel balls start squeezing like a vise grip.

Gus was gnawing on the trunk like nature’s asshole robot when a pile of squirrel excrement came down on his head. He ceased his work, looking up at David above as only a beaver can. With unctuous eyes.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I just took a dump on your head, you stupid filthy fucking beaver. Leave now or that will be the nicest thing that happens to you all day.”

“Fuck you,” yelled Gus Beaver defiantly as he turned to his fellow beavers. “Fucking squirrels live here. Let’s demolish this shithole and take all their trees.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” hooted back the colony like the pack of hateful mammals they are. They all dove into their respective tree trunks with the vigor of possessed rodents.

Up in the tree, David Squirrel was pissed. He popped a couple red oak acorns to calm himself.

Just then, Brenda Hawk landed on an adjoining tree branch high above the forest. A hawk would normally be a threat to a squirrel, but everybody thought David was rabid and even a hungry hawk would not touch a rabid squirrel.

“What the fuck’s going on down there? Are those beavers,” inquired Brenda Hawk.

“I’m gonna murder them,” hissed David, pulling a clump of hair from his belly in irate defiance.

“Those are big fucking beavers. Have you seen those teeth. And there’s a dozen of them. You’ll be killed. Did you try shitting on their heads already?”

Brenda could see in David’s eyes that lever had already been pulled.

“Why don’t you help me, bird? These are your trees too.”

“Yeah, but I’m a hawk. I can fly a mile from here and build a new nest in about thirty minutes. Why would I want to fuck with a colony of beavers?”

Brenda looked at David, who had grown almost stoic in his rage.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m starving. I can’t eat you because you got some weird fucking disease that will cause my cloaca to burn. What say you get one of your squirrel buddies over here, I have a little snack, then I take care of your beaver problem for you?”

David thought for not two seconds. Squirrels are generally considerate of one another, but as needed, they can be pragmatic motherfuckers.


David cried out into the trees, “Winston! Winston!”

“Fuck, I’m gonna eat me some Winston Squirrel. Is he plump?”

“He’s got good chew, I’m sure.”


David peered down at the beavers working into the tree bark at his tree and surrounding pines.

“Fucking beavers.”

“Rats who can swim. What kind of asshole God makes those,” responded Brenda.

“I see Winston coming. Make a circle and fly back so he doesn’t see you,” David told Brenda.

Brenda fluttered off, thinking about her upcoming meal.

Winston Squirrel bounded down to David’s branch.

“What’s up, David? Did you soil yourself again. It smells like squirrel shit,” said the happy-go-lucky squirrel.

“I shit on those beavers down there.”

“Jesus, beavers.”

“Yeah, I know,” said David, his tiny squirrel fists tensed in rage.

“But good news. Brenda Hawk said she’d help us with our beaver problem.”

“Oh, great.”

“But she’s hungry,” David informed his scurry mate.

“Are we going to trade her food for her help? Gosh, David, that is so— ”

But before Winston could finish his sentence, Brenda swooped in and wrapped Winston up in her talons, taking him up to the neighboring tree for consumption.

“Jesus, David she got me. She got me!”

David was a cold hard squirrel, but even he had to turn away as the squirrel he had known his entire life was plucked alive in pieces by Brenda Hawk.

“Oh, David this hurts, this hurts like fuck.”

“C’mon, Hawk. Can’t you eat his head first? What kind of sick monster are you?”

“The sick monster you made a deal with to take care of your beaver problem.”

“Oh, David, no. No, you didn’t—” and with that, Brenda Hawk bit into Winston’s throat box and cut off his voice, and his life.

“Fucking delicious,” squawked Brenda, as she spit some neck fur from her beak.

“You’re a cold-ass carnivore,” said David to his hunter bird associate.

“I’ve got mouths to feed, motherfucker. I’m not apologizing.” And with that, Brenda opened her hawk gullet and finished off the last of Winston.

“Jesus, squirrels leave a shitty nut aftertaste”.

Brenda and David shared a look. It was time.

“Alright, alright,” said Brenda. “My turn”.

With that Brenda flew off her branch, shrieked a horrible shriek, and started slowly circling toward the ground, toward those god forsaken Beavers.

Down on the ground, Gus Beaver and his colony chewing companions looked skyward as Brenda, shrieking like a Banshee, came divebombing from the sky.

“Now you’re dead. You hear me, Beaver scum. Dead,” yelled David from above.

“Fuck you, meth-head junky Squirrel,” said Gus defiantly. But his attention quickly focused on the vicious winged predator spiraling down toward his lot.

“Beavers, formation,” yelled Gus to his compadres.

Now, it’s worth noting, for all the downsides to beavers, like their gross oily smell, their general nastiness, their territorial trampling and their alleged incestual rape, they are very communal beasts in time of peril. When the leader yells jump, the rest of the beavers yell back, how high. And those fat fuck rodents can’t even get off the ground.

But lickety-split a dozen beavers formed a diamond shaped pattern around Gus and began slapping their tails against the ground.

Beavers have flat, scaled-covered tails that make a loud and awful sound when beaten against the ground or water, used to ward off the many predators who want to rid the earth of their hateful presence. The sound lets the world know, we are going to scratch and bite and make any attacker miserable and bloody.

Brenda Hawk wasn’t scared of much, but a dozen psychopathic beavers slamming their tails into the hard ground like maniacal rodents was a new sight for her.

Brenda pulled up from her spiral descent barely skimming over the irate beaver clan.

“Fuck this,” squawked Brenda, as she continued her flight path away from this hellscape.

“Jesus, Hawk, what the fuck,” yelled David from above. “We had a deal. You ate fucking Winston”.

“Sorry, nasty-ass squirrel. This ain’t my fight and those beavers are fucking nuts. No wonder nobody likes beavers”.

With that, Brenda glided out of sight into the tree line.

“Fuck, fuckety fuck fuck fuck,” lamented David up in the tree.

“What now squirrel? Going to start throwing nuts at us,” laughed Gus Beaver down below, his colony mates joining in the uproarious ridicule.

“What a loser” guffawed another beaver, the nasty rodents humiliating David Squirrel on the limbs above.

David grew red with anger. But there was little he could do, other than posture and retort.

“At least I don’t fuck my own children,” shouted down David.

Suddenly, the beavers became silent. All of Threadbare Forest became silent.

“You know that’s not true,” screamed Gus Beaver, suddenly taking matters quite seriously.

“Make him take it back,” pleaded a beaver standing next to Gus.

“Kid fuckers,” taunted David, more intensely.

“C’mon, Gus, this isn’t cool,” muttered another beaver.

“Oh, daddy, this underwater burrow is so romantic. Take me now, ‘says your sons’,” uttered David from above.

“I’m going to murder you, crazy-ass lying cunt squirrel. Right here. On this day”.

“I don’t know, you might be tired from all the kid humping back at the pond?”

Flush with rage, Gus slammed his incisors into the tree trunk below.

Gus offered a proposition to the enraged beave below. “I tell you what, you beaver baby raping bastard. Let’s settle this like woodland mammals. Mano e mano. None of this colony business. I’ll come down there. You and I fight to the death. You kill me, there’s nobody left to stop you. I kill you, the rest of your freakish incest nut job friends take off and never return.”

Challenged before his own colony, it didn’t take Gus long to respond. “Right here, right now, you tree dwelling fuck mite.”

With that, David tossed back the last of his red acorns and glided down the tree trunk forty feet to his beaver battle destiny below.

The beaver colony formed a tight schoolyard like circle around David and his now obviously much larger foe, Gus Beaver, easily 20 times David’s own weight.

Nevertheless, David Squirrel wasn’t like other squirrels. He showed no fear in the face of his goliath opponent.

“I’m going to hurt you real bad, you nasty-ass squirrel. Then me and my boys are going to skip being herbivores for a few minutes and eat your heart.”

Hearing those words come out of a beaver’s mouth was pretty shocking, even for the world’s second most insidious animal.

“I think that’s why everybody hates beavers,” retorted David. “Big on talk.”

With that, Gus Beaver lunged forward with his incisors at David, cutting the squirrel across the shoulder. David’s instinctively fast reflexes the only thing saving him from worse.

“That all you got, you fat, child raping beaver fuck,” taunted David, challenging the much larger rodent standing across from him on the forest floor.

Gus lunged again. This time David was ready. Despite being high as hell, he ducked out of the corpulent beaver’s charge and climbed onto his back. David raked Gus’ eyes with his sharp squirrel claws as Gus let out a yelp, shaking violently to toss David ten feet across the forest floor.

David dusted himself off with a smile, peering over at one pissed off beaver, one eye completely bloodied and rendered useless by the squirrels small, but knife like claws.

“You took my eye. Now I’m taking your life.”

“Bring it on, you dam-building degenerate aquatic mammal fuck”.

Gus charged forward as David scurried ahead, the two meeting in the middle, in a clinch to the death. Scratching, biting, clawing, hissing, the likes of which Threadbare Forest had not seen in ten generations.

When the two untangled from their bloody skirmish, David still had that crazy smile on his face, staring back at the beaver he had badly shredded. But David himself had suffered even worse bites and cuts. Blood dripped from his gaunt, sickly squirrel body. He spun twice in a dizzying circle, before falling to the ground, dead.

“The beavers have won,” shouted one of the colonists.

“The beavers have won,” joined in the rest of the oily-skinned mammals.

“All hail, Gus Beaver,” they screamed in unison.

Weary and cut from battle, Gus righted himself as best he could before his men.

“Today, we destroy this forest” said Gus Beaver. “But first, we eat”.

And with that, Gus and the rest of the colony lunged forward to consume the heart of the squirrel that had so befouled their beaver reputations.


“I don’t get it, mama,” said a young squirrels voice. “How did Uncle David save our trees from those truly wretched and nasty beavers?”

For now, we are many trees and several years away from the battle of David and Gus, with Susy Squirrel explaining to her young child how her deceased brother was a hero to the squirrels.

“You see, my sweet little boy. Vicious rumors are truer than not. Like those horrible beavers, they were indeed largely child rapists. As everyone in the woods suspected because they are loathsome creatures. And your Uncle David, in fact, he was loaded to the brim with the rabies. And when those beavers consumed his heart on that Fall morning, they sealed their own painful deaths just a few days later, most choking to death on their own vomit.”

“So, Uncle David set them up, oh, wow. He knew he’d lose, and it would save our forest. He gave up his life to save our woods.”

“Indeed, he did. Your uncle is a squirrel hero. Rabid, and a junkie, and he did sell out Winston, whose parents still won’t talk to us, but it’s how you go out that counts.”

“Mom, is it okay if I’m just like Uncle David when I grow up,” asked the young offspring.

“I would be so proud,” responded Susy, hugging her squirrel child tight.

The End.

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