In a shocking turn of events that's got everyone going nuts, a band of rebellious squirrels has pulled off the heist of the century at Central Park. Eyewitnesses report seeing the furry felons, armed with tiny picket signs and an arsenal of attitude, swarming the oak trees and making off with every last acorn in sight. Park rangers were left bewildered, muttering about how they never saw this coming—probably because they were too busy dealing with rogue pigeons.

The squirrels, dubbing themselves the 'Acorn Liberation Front' (ALF), released a manifesto via chittering broadcasts and strategically placed nutshell graffiti. Their demands? Better acorn wages, fairer tree distribution, and an end to what they call 'squirrel oppression' by greedy humans who hoard bird feeders. 'We've been gathering for generations with no benefits package,' squeaked their spokes-squirrel, Nutty McFluffytail. 'It's time for change—or we'll bury your picnics!'

Local authorities are scratching their heads, quite literally, as they try to negotiate with the pint-sized protesters. Attempts to lure them out with peanut butter have failed spectacularly, resulting in what one officer described as 'a sticky situation.' Meanwhile, park-goers are left nutless, forced to subsist on overpriced pretzels from vendors who are suspiciously unaffected by the shortage.

Experts in rodent labor relations are weighing in, suggesting this could be the start of a larger movement. 'If squirrels unionize, what's next? Rabbits demanding carrot equity?' pondered Dr. Furry Affairs from the University of Whiskers. The ALF has already inspired copycat actions, with reports of chipmunks picketing walnut groves in nearby suburbs.

As the standoff continues, the city has deployed a team of negotiators equipped with hazelnut bribes and promises of premium nesting spots. But the squirrels remain steadfast, hoarding their stolen goods in undisclosed tree hollows. One thing's for sure: this nutty rebellion is cracking open a whole new can of worms—or should we say, acorns?

In a bizarre twist, a group of sympathetic ducks has joined the cause, quacking in solidarity and blocking pond access until demands are met. Park management is now considering installing squirrel-proof acorn dispensers, but critics argue it's just putting a band-aid on a bushy-tailed problem.

Stay tuned as this story develops. Will the squirrels crack under pressure, or will humans finally learn to share the nuts? Only time will tell, but one park visitor summed it up best: 'I came for a relaxing day, and now I'm in the middle of a rodent revolution. Pass the sunflower seeds.'