In a bold move that's shaking the treetops, squirrels across the nation have ditched their solo nut-hoarding ways and formed the United Squirrels Workers Union (USWU). Led by the charismatic Nutty McFluffytail, these furry revolutionaries are tired of the seasonal grind and are demanding change—or else they'll start burying acorns in inconvenient places, like your car's engine.

The union's origins trace back to a particularly harsh winter where acorn supplies dwindled, and many squirrels were left shivering in uninsulated hollows. 'We've been exploited by Mother Nature for too long,' squeaked McFluffytail during a press conference held on a park bench. 'It's time for fair wages in nuts, paid hibernation leave, and maybe some squirrel-sized espresso machines to keep us going.'

Key demands include better acorn benefits, such as a guaranteed minimum stash per squirrel, and shorter winters—because who wouldn't want to fast-forward through the cold? They're also pushing for heated tree hollows, arguing that freezing tails are a workplace hazard. Protests have involved tiny picket signs reading 'No Nuts, No Glory' and organized chattering that drowns out picnickers.

Park rangers are baffled, with one anonymous source admitting, 'We thought the biggest threat was unleashed dogs, but now we've got rodent rallies. What's next, pigeons demanding statue rights?' Local governments are scrambling to respond, debating whether to classify squirrels as essential workers or just pests with attitude.

Interviews with union members reveal a mix of determination and whimsy. 'I've lost too many friends to hawk attacks while foraging overtime,' lamented Whiskers O'Tail. 'We need hazard pay and better camouflage training.' The USWU has even enlisted celebrity endorsements, like that one squirrel from the viral meme who stole a pizza slice—now their official spokesperson.

The movement has sparked copycat unions among other wildlife, with rabbits eyeing better carrot quotas and birds tweeting about fair migration routes. Economists warn that if squirrels succeed, it could lead to a nut shortage, driving up prices at your local grocery store. 'Forget inflation; this is acorn-flation,' joked one analyst.

As negotiations loom, the USWU vows to escalate if demands aren't met—perhaps by raiding bird feeders en masse or staging sit-ins on power lines. For now, park-goers are advised to carry extra peanuts as a peace offering. In the world of Not Necessarily The News, it seems even the smallest creatures are ready to fight for their slice of the pie—or nut, as it were.