In a bold display of rodent rebellion, squirrels across urban parks have downed their tools—or rather, their tiny paws—and taken to the trees in protest. Armed with minuscule picket signs reading 'Nuts for Fair Pay!' and 'No More Acorn Austerity!', these bushy-tailed activists are demanding higher wages from their arboreal employers. Witnesses report seeing squirrels chattering angrily at oaks, refusing to bury a single nut until negotiations commence.

The Squirrel Workers Union (SWU), freshly formed under the leadership of a grizzled veteran named Nutty McFluffytail, claims that trees have been exploiting them for centuries. 'We've been hoarding nuts all fall, only to watch humans rake them up or dogs chase us away,' McFluffytail squeaked in a press conference held on a low-hanging branch. The union's demands include premium acorn benefits, such as dental coverage for bucktooth maintenance and paid hibernation leave.

Park-goers are bewildered by the spectacle. Joggers have tripped over unattended nut piles, while picnickers complain of squirrels aggressively soliciting support signatures on acorn caps. 'I thought they were just being cute, but now they're unionizing? What's next, birds demanding overtime for migration?' said one confused bystander, dodging a barrage of protest hazelnuts.

Trees, represented by the Silent Bark Association, have remained stoically unresponsive, their leaves rustling in what some interpret as dismissive shrugs. Experts speculate that without squirrel intervention, parks could soon be overrun with unburied nuts, leading to a slippery autumn apocalypse or, worse, an influx of opportunistic chipmunks scabbing the labor.

SWU spokes-squirrels have escalated tactics, organizing sit-ins on park benches and disrupting bird feeders in solidarity strikes. 'We're not just gathering for winter; we're building a movement!' proclaimed a young activist, her tail twitching with revolutionary fervor. Rumors swirl of international support from European red squirrels, who are shipping in solidarity chestnuts.

Local authorities are scrambling to mediate, with animal control officers attempting to translate demands via interpretive dance. One proposed compromise includes installing squirrel-sized vending machines dispensing fair-trade acorns, but union reps dismissed it as 'crumbs from the canopy.'

As the protest drags on, ecologists warn of broader implications: without buried nuts, future tree growth could stagnate, creating a vicious cycle of arboreal unemployment. In the meantime, the squirrels remain resolute, their tiny signs waving like flags of furry defiance against the winds of seasonal exploitation.