"A-a-a-l-l-l-v-v-v-i-i-i-n-n-n!!!"

He may look cute, be he's a home-invader...
a little bit of trouble that mirrors poison ivy...
irritating.


Yet, for me, the he is really a she, and she has
a little family of Chip and Dales. She and her
lot call home the blocks with which my burning
barrell sits upon.


And for days now, Ms. Grinny has taunted
and teased me.


Lukensteins and my attempt at mouse trap
was to no avail yesterday. We set the trap right
outside Ms. Grinny's front door, and then watched
as she and Chip and Dale went in and out past it
with no interest. Don't chipmuncks like peanut butter?


So, last night went to get the solution:
The almighty .177 caliber pellet gun,
with scope, 1300 ft. per second...
It resembles more of a .22 than it does
a pellet gun. The solution would be mine.
And our home would be rid of all
chipmunck scum.


But when I got to my dad's to retrieve the
beast of Alvin-elimination, my hopes were
dashed... no scope, not sighted in, and no
way to shoot without major practice.

And hence, I come home with this:

Open sights, 350 ft. per second. It's like putting a needle in a straw and calling a blow dart.