"I'm often referred to as a squirrel by people who see me. People. Not other squirrels, mind you, they know I have a name, but in the day in, day out world we navigate, the world of professional wrestling? I mean, I didn't ask to be born into this. To be a legacy in this industry. I don't know if I should be dictating the weather, wind speed, and traffic patterns of Los Angeles right now, or giving dry exposition in formal wear in front of a huge fireplace with sappy music playing, but, well, maybe I'll know one day, and I can find out who I really am, and maybe not and I'll find out the hard way. By putting myself to the test every time I set foot in that ring, by enduring every excruciating moment against every opponent that's easily two, maybe even three times my size. I get dismissed, because I weigh about as much as a gallon of water. I get called cute, and adorable, because I have the fluffiest little tail in the XWF, and sure, I'm about to face off against an android Chud. Android Chud, I want you to listen as hard as your programmers can before they press buttons and code you to face off against me in the ring, that try as they might using their technology, and big whoop, I can use a phone and do stuff, I have manual dexterity just like any human, and anybody with two hands has a fighting chance, and I don't just have those, I have all the moxie of seven lemonades with Red Bull and enough zip to outmaneuver whatever structure they designed you as."

"Fact of the matter is, when they built you, they would have been way better off than human shaped. Like an orb, kind of hard to pin something if it just rolls around. Maybe the robotics wizards who put you together were just sterile, or perhaps too embarrassed to share their own seed with a mate and create a child so they built some goofy robot to fight against a squirrel in that very ring. You have this entire, insane existence that, well, is completely baffling and unnatural."

"Me? I'm not just some squirrel, no. I'm the 41st Squirrel, you can call me Chick, and after I beat you in Vancouver, and it would have been just a match, my debut, a chance to show the world I belong in that ring, but no. Your dumb programming team had to mock me!"

Squirrel 41 shows us the screen of his phone. We see a familiar sight.



"You people are sick, you know that? I mean, for starters, how many millions of dollars of funding are going towards your task to attack a squirrel? I mean, criminy, go buy yourself a shotgun and some bird shot, it's gotta be like two-hundred dollars, tops! Instead, however much money from some bizarre institute is now focused on programming a wrestling android to fight a squirrel. This isn't mad science, it's perverted! Someone should call, I don't know, the science authorities on you people! But then, hohoho, you had to show that particular image, and pardon my language but darn it, watch!"

Squirrel 41 taps all the pictures containing traffic lights.

"Now, I just verified it, proved to the world after jumping through your little hoops and paying your sick games, that yes, I am human!"

Squirrel 41 looks utterly disgusted by the great indignity he has suffered, yet still cute and cuddly and adorable.

"Nuts to that! You chuckle-heads programming Chud, you listen and you listen good, you think you're going to program some basic animal handling videos into your Chud and call it a day? Well, good luck, animal handlers haven't been able to track my family of forty squirrels ever, and they won't track me, either! You're out of your league entirely, I've baffled the top squirrelologists around the globe, and you guys just portray devil and angels on the shoulders of Chud. Really, I can do that too!"

Squirrel 41 walks over to a little squirrel toaster, for when he has his little squirrel breakfast. Squirrels are cozy civilized people. He puts a piece of bread in it, then puts his hand on a dial with numbers on it. He spins it one way, and makes a high pitch voice.

"Oooh, look, we'll keep the toast light!"

Squirrel 41 turns the nob the other direction, to the higher numbers and darker toast settings. He makes his voice sound deeper.

"No, we're going to do things dark!"

Squirrel 41 looks at the camera, unimpressed.

"That's the gist of exactly what you're doing, trying to alter the settings of an appliance, only one of you wants the thermostat high, one low. Go sit down, and why the hell isn't the android going and, I dunno, fighting fires or going into places too dangerous for us living things, like reactors or something? Who is your oversight? Whoo boy, I bet the shareholders must be embarrassed and angry if you're private sector!"

Squirrel 41 closes his eyes.

"So, listen up, I'm going to put your silly, nonsense, doesn't belong in a wrestling ring self down! I'm going to make a robot tap out, because wrestling! Once I do that, my father will be so impressed, heh, he won't help but come forward and, I dunno, teach me or something!"