Rodrigo, the Squirrel Commandant, surveyed his troops and shook his head.
“I don’t know if we’re up to it, but dam’d if I’m going to let the Chipmunks win today.”
“Sorry, Commandant – what was that?”
Rodrigo looked up, startled. He hadn’t seen Corporal Jones. He quickly backtracked: “Nothing, Corporal. We have a job to do. The Princess Ionia is at the top of that tower, and we’re going to take down every chipmunk, rabbit and grasshopper that gets in our way, or I’m not the Commandant of the 165th Infantry Division.”
Letting the men see him weak was not good. Things were bad, but they weren’t that bad.
* * *
Rodrigo gave the signal and the 165th unleashed its furry.
Weeks-old confectioneries flew from cannons.
Mortars spat desiccated jimmies.
Sprinkles shaped like morning stars rained down on the alien invaders.
Bodies piled on top of one another until invader and savior alike muddied the battleground.
Through a haze punctuated by mortar blasts, Rodrigo took his knife and maneuvered his way through the maze. A bloodied and bruised champion, he made it to the top of the tower.
But he was too late.
The stairs were littered with cupcake bombs. Frosting smeared the walls. The final door was ajar.
Rodrigo took a deep breath and peered inside.
Princess Ionia sat amidst the disaster as though it were her throne. Her fearsome captors had been disarmed and were docile at her feet. She had a cupcake in her hands.
Rodrigo bowed low. “Princess Ionia, I see you have already saved us all.”