SUBJECT: To the Walt Disney World Front Desk: A Formal Incident Report Regarding Your Feral Animatronic Squirrel
Dear Walt Disney World Front Desk,
I am writing to report a technical malfunction with one of your animatronic animals. Specifically, the squirrel stationed by the pool at your Polynesian Village Resort.
While enjoying a relaxing afternoon with my family, I noticed the squirrel perched on a lounge chair, seemingly unresponsive. Recognizing that all animals at Walt Disney World are, in fact, animatronic (as any reasonable person knows), I approached to confirm its status.
At first, the unit appeared to be nonoperational. It did not move, blink, or sing a charming yet legally distinct parody of a traditional Hawaiian folk song. However, when I extended my hand to verify its condition, the squirrel:
1. Bit off the top third of my index finger.
2. Held my severed finger in its mouth like a prized walnut oozing raspberry compote.
3. Leapt into the pool, swam to the far side, and vanished beneath a palm frond.
4. Released my digit en route, which sank to the bottom of the deep end like the leg of that poor rowboat guy in Jaws.
At this point, I lost consciousness. When I awoke, I found myself in an ER bay, where my severed finger was floating in a glass of piña colada slush, presumably awaiting surgical reintegration.
Further concerns:
- My wife has suggested that I may have ingested multiple cannabis gummies prior to this event. This is a baseless accusation. (Mostly.)
- There is a possibility the squirrel was not animatronic. I mean, what is an Eastern Gray Squirrel doing on the shore of a faux-remote Tongan lagoon? On the other hand, this would be a major violation of park policy, as ALL animals on Disney property should be thematically accurate, programmed and/or licensed performers.
- My children have lost faith in my authority as a father.
- The reattachment was, at best, a partial success. My fingertip now has the grip strength of a boiled noodle.
I would appreciate a full investigation into this matter — preferably one that results in Fast Passes.
Sincerely,
Jim Elliott
(Room 328, Samoa Longhouse, Reservation# 334-727-8519-22101)
