In a stunning display of rodent rebellion, a band of squirrels in Central Park has executed what experts are calling the 'Great Nut Caper.' Disguised in acorn camouflage that would make a chameleon blush, these bushy-tailed bandits raided the park's premier nut storage facility, leaving rangers red-faced and empty-handed.
Witnesses report seeing the squirrels operating in synchronized teams, using tiny grappling hooks made from discarded dental floss and executing maneuvers that rival Ocean's Eleven. 'They were like furry ninjas,' said one bewildered jogger. 'One minute the nuts were there, the next—poof! Gone, with only a trail of empty shells mocking us.'
Park authorities are baffled by the squirrels' advanced tactics, which included decoy operations involving fake bird feeders and what appears to be a squirrel-sized drone for aerial reconnaissance. 'We've dealt with raccoons before, but this is next-level,' admitted Ranger Bob, scratching his head. 'They're organizing. They're unionizing. What's next, squirrel suffrage?'
The heist's mastermind is rumored to be a grizzled veteran squirrel named Nutty McFluff, a repeat offender with a rap sheet including jaywalking and unauthorized tree climbing. Sources say McFluff trained his crew in the art of nut-fu, a martial art blending parkour and pilfering.
As the investigation unfolds, conspiracy theorists speculate this could be the start of a larger animal uprising. 'First squirrels, then pigeons demanding more breadcrumbs,' warned one online forum poster. Meanwhile, local nut vendors are reporting skyrocketing prices, turning the humble acorn into a black-market commodity.
In a bizarre twist, the squirrels left behind a manifesto demanding 'equal acorns for all' and an end to human encroachment on prime foraging grounds. Park officials are considering negotiations, but as one ranger put it, 'How do you bargain with someone who communicates in chitters?'
Experts advise the public to secure their bird feeders and picnic baskets, lest they become the next victims of these pint-sized perpetrators. 'They're small, but they're mighty,' said a wildlife biologist. 'And apparently, very, very sneaky.'