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Hidden up there behind some branches sits one glaring squirrel. “I don’t know,” I say. “He looks pretty pissed, though.” “Good.” I see now that there are more of them in the tree. There’s a whole team of them up there hiding. One squirrel is wearing a yellow Zorro mask. Two others stand stock-still: one green, the other disco-ball silver. Three others have matching gold-covered bellies. Together they look like a creepy family of angry Christmas ornaments. “So,
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