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It's 9-o'clock at night.

A narrator welcomes you.

"Thanks for watching Mouse Your House and Mouse Your House: Apartment Edition! Now, stay tuned to SCURRY-TV for even more 'programming to gnaw on'!

"Up next, from the creators of Mouse Your House, it's Squirrel Your Stuff. Tonight, the team goes into a _literal_fox's den! Can they organize it? Find out!

"Then, on Rat Your Ride, the guys try to get a fixer-upper ready for a classic car show. Guess who locks the keys inside?!"

"It's 'Your Reality Wednesday.' Real rodents. Real places. Real fun!"

Cut to black.

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Program starts.

A sleeping male fox, on his side in bed, rolls onto his back. He gives a wide, toothy yawn, snout in a sunbeam. Body is shirtless, of medium build.

The camera closes in on him.

Eyes half-open, he snarls and swipes at it.

Camera shakes!

Cut to kitchen.

"Sorry about that," he says, clutching a mug of coffee, wearing only 'Super Mario' boxers. His arms are black from elbows down (legs also black from knees down), a contrast to the bright, autumnal orange and white fur covering the rest of him.

He takes a sip of hot Jamaican Blue Mountain 'breakfast blend.'

"Wasn't fully awake yet."

Another sip. More a slurp, really.

"Not used to having anyone else in my bedroom, ha, ha!"

After saying this, he ponders and sighs dejectedly.

Camera cuts to fox, now fully dressed, giving a tour of his home. It is ... cluttered.

A voiceover plays over the visuals, the fox going from room to room.

"My name's Harlan. I'm an American red fox. Even though I'm orange! What the (BLEEP!), ha, ha. Whatever. I work from home. Remote tech support. I guess I enjoy not having a daily commute? But, sometimes, I get stir-crazy, and it's reflected in my living space.

"I used to have an apartment. Then I inherited this house from my paternal grandparents. I mean ... can't turn down a freaking house that's already paid for! Right? And, uh ... so some of this stuff is mine, but a lot was theirs!"

He skips a beat, admitting, "I just don't know what to do with it all."

Harlan leads the camera into a room that looks like a living room. Only, there's not much space to live in. Literally everything in this particular room is covered with--

"No, they're not toys."

The camera pans around the room, then returns to Harlan.

"Mom is always giving me (BLEEP!) for that. 'You're thirty, you need to grow up! Get rid of your toys!' Uh, yeah, mom, read the package. Right here."

He picks up a figurine still in the package, shoving it at the camera, which takes a moment to refocus.

"What does it say? Toy?! No! Adult," he emphasizes, "collectible."

Jump cut to the kitchen. Pots and pans and dishes everywhere.

Jump cut to porch. Cluttered with lawn tools and random sports balls. And tennis rackets.

"I don't even play tennis!"

Jump cut to the study, full of his grandparents' dusty old books.

"Why couldn't they have been interested in comic books?"

Back to Harlan.

The fox tilts his head, telling the camera, "I really need help organizing. Family wants to have Thanksgiving and Christmas here, cause I'm 'centralized.' Psh, yeah, invite yourselves over, fam! Not like I had plans."

He scrunches his muzzle, paws on hips.

"I mean, I could've if I wanted to, but ... it's the principle, right?"

The camera remains a dispassionate observer.

Another sigh.

"Anyway. It's already October. I'm running out of time." He pauses, swishing his tail and looking straight into the camera, "I need to squirrel my stuff!"

Cut to Main Title sequence, a short little montage set to a lively jingle, ending with the show's logo.

Immediately after, we see the arrival of the S.Y.S. team.

Five squirrels, all different species and personalities. One mission! To get homes uncluttered.

"The front yard doesn't look _so_bad," Cerise, a petite female red squirrel says, as she gets out of a van with the show's name on it. She is habitually polite. A cutie with tufted, pixie-like ears. The prototypical 'squirrel next door.'

"Poor, naïve Cerise," a striking black, white, and maroon Prevost's squirrel says. Piedmont. Fancy in both appearance and temperament.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont:"Spare me. I've already heard all the jokes," he says, reeling them off. "'What, was Poindexter already taken!' 'Oh, so that's why you're suck a dick!'"

"Wait." He pauses. "Did ... did I say suck ?" He thinks, eyes darting, muttering a bit before insisting, "I meant such! Such a dick!"

Camera pushes in on him.

"Yeah, I'm gay, okay?" He fiddles with his glasses, tail swishing flippantly. "Sue me."

Back to Harlan's driveway.

A truck with a dumpster pulls up behind the van, for all the 'stuff' they'll have to toss.

"He definitely doesn't have kits," Waverly, a grey squirrel, reasoned. "Or a mate. Else there'd be more stuff out here."

"Don't get your hopes up for an easy job, you two," Clay, a brawny bronze and silver fox squirrel, warns. Paws on hips, eyes narrowing. "The producers didn't choose this place for no reason. Inside's probably a battlefield. Also, what about the backyard? Bet it's full of landmines."

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Cerise:"Clay is, um ... how should I put this ... "

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont:"Aggressively male. He'd be what we call a 'top's top'."

Back to yard.

Piedmont scoffs and informs Clay that, "Landmines were largely banned under an amendment regulated by the Geneva Convention in 1997."

Clay's tail twitches as he shoots daggers at the Prevost's squirrel.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Clay:"Piedmont is such a (BLEEP!)-ing know it all. The group just thinks I'm here to do the heavy lifting."

A pause.

"Literally, to move heavy objects."

A huff.

"I have a high school degree, too, you know!"

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont:"Smartest of the group? And looking like this?"

He folds his paws behind his head.

"Squirrel your stuff? Ha! More like 'stuff your squirrel,' am I right?"

A pause.

"I don't know why I said that."

Camera cuts to Waverly as the front yard exchange is going on. He slowly inches into the fray.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly:"Everyone assumes grey squirrels are boring because we're ... y'know, grey."

A pause.

"I mean, I guess I am a little boring? You got Piedmont over there being a smarty pants, Clay being macho, Cerise so helpful and sweet ... "

He falters at mentioning the red squirrel, clearly having a crush on her.

"I, uh ... but me? I'm just the straight man."

A pause.

"Not straight as in straight, though I am that. But, like, you know, the sane, reasonable guy? The glue that keeps all the disparate elements together?"

Camera cuts to Waverly now between Clay and Piedmont, a paw on each of their chests, with Waverly's voice-over.

"I'm basically the group's referee."

Camera cuts to interior of Harlan's house, the group filtering in.

Cerise puts a paw to her breast, audibly gasping.

There is stuff everywhere.

"Looks like we're dealing with a classic hoarder," Clay guesses.

"I don't think he's a hoarder, I think he's just lazy," Piedmont says, getting the camera's attention and pointing to a water ring on a coffee table. He shakes his head, mouthing the word, "Tragic."

"We're gonna overflow the dumpster," Waverly guesses.

Cerise asks, "What if he doesn't want anything thrown out?"

"Sometimes, you gotta cut your losses," Clay says, in agreement with Waverly.

Harlan pokes his snout into the frame, then fully appears as they enter the living room.

"Yo, squirrels! Bright eyed and bushy tailed!" He whisks his own tail around in solidarity, using both paws to point at them. He stands a good head taller than all of them. "Ha, that's what I like to see."

The predator hungrily eyes Cerise while talking.

Waverly notices and squints.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan:"What?"

Pause.

"Red squirrels are the most (BLEEP!)-able squirrels."

He smirks and leans back in the chair, crossing his arms.

"Change my mind."

Cut back to living room.

Just then, the fifth member of the group, who's been taking a phone call in the van, bounds into the scene. An Indian giant squirrel named Zora.

Braless breasts bouncing beneath her t-shirt and her impossibly large, fluffy tail painting invisible trails in the air, her pelt is too many colors to count. Orange, tan, russet, red, purple, deep navy blue.

Visibly taller than the others, she stands almost at chin level with the fox.

"What'd I miss?" she asks, smile as bright as a tropical sun.

Harlan drinks her in with wide, unblinking eyes.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan:"Mind, uh ... mind changed, alright?" Clearing his throat, he sheepishly adjusts his pants. "You win."

Begin commercial break.

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Morning, and a squirrel enters a bathroom to shower and groom their tail. They shut the door.

A clock ticks and text reads: ONE HOUR LATER.

The squirrel emerges, chittering with annoyance. Even after drying off, their proud, bushy tail is looking thin and unkempt.

"Tired of wasting _so_much time grooming your tail?"

The squirrel nods and says, "Yes! I can't go out like this!" A sigh. "Makes me wish I had a mouse tail ... "

The narrator chuckles. "Let's not go that far! Take the maintenance out of being a squirrel."

"But I've tried everything!"

"Try 'Terrific Tailz Ten'! Our special, environmentally friendly blend instantly softens and detangles dry, frizzy fur, leaving your tail shining stylishly! All in less than ten minutes!"

A bottle of the conditioner magically appears.

The squirrel seems skeptical but shrugs and takes it. "What do I have to lose?"

Text reads: TEN MINUTES LATER.

The squirrel returns, not even fully dry, yet their tail is fluffy and buoyant, soft and luxurious, with just the perfect bit of bounce.

A bucktoothed smile. "Wow, thanks 'Terrific Tailz!"

"TT10," the narrator recites. "Take ten minutes to fluff yourself!"

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End commercial break.

The camera drifts through the house, showing the team in the beginning stages of tackling their organizational makeover.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Cerise: " So, we all have initial roles. I take inventory. Waverly decides what stays out, what goes in storage, or even what can get tossed. Clay is the muscle. He moves things. Sorry, Clay! Um, Piedmont directs the arrangement, and 'flowers' up the overall appearance. But by the end, though, it's pretty much a free for all! Heh. Yeah, we're pretty much all crossing over into--"

She leans forward, ears cocking.

"Zora?"

A pause.

"She's the, uh ... the morale booster," Cerise says politely, leaning back. "She knows how to deliver a good rally cry. Must come from her sports days!"

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Zora:"Mm? Oh, yeah, I was a volleyball pro for five, six years! Beach volleyball. Which is, like, the only serious kind."

She puts her paws around her muzzle like a megaphone and shouts, "Prepare to eat sand! Ha, ha."

Stock footage shows the giant, vivid squirrel, in a skimpy, sky-blue two-piece bikini, jumping toward the net and spiking the ball, low-fiving her shorter rabbit teammate as they get the point.

"Got silver medal in the '21 Worlds."

She flashes a Victory sign.

"I was in the last Olympics, too!"

A pause.

"As an alternate. But I still got to go!"

The camera jump-cuts closer as she confides, "The Olympic Village? It's all true, yeah." She zips her lips. "Ha! That's all I can say."

The camera jump-cuts back.

"During a practice match one day, I tore a ligament. ACL. That's, like, the worst one to hurt, for sure. Crumpled right to the sand. Brutal! Was looking at, like, a year of rehab, with no guarantees of returning to my peak. Did I really want to push to get back out there?

"So, like, I was at the physical therapist for my first appointment, and I see this hip, silver rat. He was in for some back pain, maybe? Dunno. He's lookin' at me and blurts out, 'You're pretty hot'!"

The camera slowly pushes in on Zora's face.

"I was, like, 'aw, thanks, but I'm not into you.' And then he's all, 'It's okay, I got a boyfriend anyway.' Ha, ha! It was funny. No, but then he's, like, 'You want a job on television'?"

Zora idly swipes at her whiskers.

"I say, 'I've always wanted to be a broadcaster! You hiring color commentators? I won't do play-by-play.'

"He shakes his head and goes, 'Nah, I work for SCURRY-TV, and you'd be great on a new show we're developing. Would you consider yourself an organized person'?"

The giant squirrel pretends to think.

"I'm, like, 'How 'bout ... no'!"

"And he snaps his fingers and says, 'You're hired'!"

She giggles brightly.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly:"Zora was the last one to join the team, and the one with the least experience in whatever we're supposed to be doing, so of course she becomes the fan favorite. Face of the advertising campaigns? Endorsement deals?"

A pause.

"People always choose color over greyscale," the grey squirrel laments.

As the team splits up to take stock of the house, Clay is already bringing trash bags of 'stuff' to the dumpster. Meanwhile, Zora is in the kitchen with Harlan.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan:"I'm just trying to lay low, y'know? I mean, I've seen this show before. It's _so_predictable. The guests mug for the camera, trying to make a name for themselves. Fifteen minutes of fame. Sad, really."

He waves a paw and shakes his head.

"I'm not like that! Mm. No, not me. I'm just here to watch and learn."

Back to kitchen.

Harlan is practically drooling over Zora, hanging on her every word.

The giant squirrel produces a magnetic whiteboard. "Now! We're gonna keep this here on the fridge. That way you'll see it before every meal. Which means at least three times a day, I hope! You look like you enjoy a bite to eat."

"I do like tasty morsels," he replies.

Oblivious to being hit on, Zora secures the board to the refrigerator door, grabbing some dry erase markers. "Keep lists of tasks. Set goals and reward yourself when you achieve them!" She taps the side of her head. "The power of positive thinking."

"Genius," the fox says.

"Thanks!" Long, bushy tail fluttering, Zora takes the cap off a blue dry erase marker and asks, "Okay. So! Task number one ... what do you want to do first?"

"Um ... "

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan: Looks guiltily at camera.

Back to kitchen.

"It doesn't have to be a chore! Think of this as preemptively saving you more work."

"Uh-huh," Harlan replies, checking out the squirrel's shapely rump.

Waverly can be seen walking past the room, glancing at the camera.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly:"Are you serious? They're gonna (BLEEP!)."

He skips a beat.

"Aren't they?"

A sigh.

"I mean ... "

The camera pushes in.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

He rubs his neck, muscles tensing. Clearly pent up.

"I don't wanna (BLEEP!) a fox or a giant squirrel. I wanna (BLEEP!) Cer--"

He stops short, covering his face with a paw. He remains frozen for a moment before saying hopefully, looking at the ceiling, "Maybe she won't watch this episode ... "

Cut to indoor porch.

"Clay!" barks Piedmont, on his knees going through boxes of garden tools.

No response.

"Cllaaa--"

"What?" the fox squirrel barks, entering the room, carrying another trash bag for tossing. "I'm busy."

"I need you to move that bench for me. And the washer and dryer." A pause, pointing nonchalantly to all the heavy furniture and appliances. "Oh, and the cushioned chair."

Clay rolls his eyes. "That's basically everything."

"Great!"

Clay makes a throaty chittering noise, putting the bag down. "Where to, sir?"

Cut to entertainment room.

Cerise is going through a pile of 'adult collectibles.'

"So, to start, I'm trying to sort all this by 'kind.' Looks like we've got ... um, action figures, spaceships, and what I'm going to call accessories? Or props. Like this, um ... ray gun? I think it lights up."

She turns it end over end. Pressing a button, a sound effect plays.

"Oh, phaser. Hah! Which show is that again?"

Waverly, who is walking by, hears this and pops in. "Is that ... are those Star Trek toys?"

"I guess?"

The grey squirrel enters the room and drops to his knees, excitedly sorting through the pile of loot. He squeals. "No (BLEEP!)-ing way. Babylon 5?!"

Cerise giggles. "Didn't realize you were such a sci-fi geek!"

"Oh, uh, yeah." He gets shy and runs a paw through his head-fur. "I just ... I don't normally talk about it, but ... "

Trailing off, Waverly continues looking through the 'stuff' before saying, "Some of these are loose! You think he plays with them?" A pause. "Maybe we, uh, could play with them, too." He clears his throat. "Together, you and me ... "

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Cerise:"In the past, when guys have asked me to play with their 'toys' ... it wasn't this innocent."

She wrinkles her muzzle.

After a pause, a slow smile appears.

"But Waverly's a real sweetheart, isn't he?"

Back to entertainment room.

Cerise says, "We can play as we go, but only a little. We have to remember our jobs!"

"Right, right. Jobs," Waverly mutters, picking up an Akira-Class starship. A grin as he proclaims, "Wicked!"

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly:"Sorry. Sometimes, the New Englander in me slips out."

Back to entertainment room.

Cerise is trying to keep them on task, explaining, "How are we going to organize these? I say the 'loose' ones all go together, and the boxed ones together. No mixing on the shelves. And, uh ... but the loose ones take up less space." She nibbles on her claw-tips. "Hmm."

Waverly is flying the ship around making 'whoosh!' and 'pew-pew!' noises.

Cut to porch.

Clay, in the midst of shuffling the heavier objects around, perks his ears. Piedmont now has music playing on a Bluetooth speaker. "What kind of (BLEEP!) is this?"

"Culture," Piedmont declares simply, now sorting through balls. Tennis balls, soccer balls, golf balls. He looks at the camera and warns, "I know what you're thinking."

"Who are you talking to?"

"The audience," Piedmont stresses. He chitters, pushing his glasses up his snout. "You're ruining my moment! Again."

"Psh. Cause I'm thrown off by this song. This isn't work music," Clay continues, not letting it go. "This is frilly stuff."

Piedmont frowns and tries to ignore him, humming the tune.

Clay snorts. "Is this ... wait, I've heard that voice before. Oh, my god! Is this the _Call Me Maybe_girl? Ha, ha, seriously?"

"Take that back," Piedmont enunciates slowly, fur bristling.

"Take what back? I'm right, aren't I?"

Piedmont fumes, black tail flagging.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont: Aggressively leans forward in chair.

" That was over a decade and six albums ago! Six! Stop bringing that song up! Carly isn't some one-hit wonder. Oh, you didn't know she keeps releasing stone cold masterpieces?"

He gestures at the camera.

"Educate yourself! She's a (BLEEP!)-ing pop queen."

He chuffs.

"She never misses, and she keeps us fed."

He puts a paw on his forehead, leaning back in his chair. He lets the paw dangle in the air.

"And by us I mean the gays. Straight people don't deserve her music."

Back to porch.

"I wanna listen to rock and roll."

"Of course you do," Piedmont says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What's that mean?"

Camera cuts to entertainment room, where Cerise and Waverly, both playing with the toys now, overhear the argument and exchange glances.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly: " Here's an idea. Ear-pods."

Start commercial break.

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A network promo plays.

"Tomorrow night," the announcer says, "laugh, squeak, and chitter along with us! It's comedy night on SCURRY-TV!

"At 8, another droll episode of Emmy-winner The Capybaras. They're relentlessly chill but always getting in hot water! See what happens when the family draws the ire of an apex predator at a harvest festival! You'll be bobbing for oranges and laughs!"

"Then, at 8:30, Taking it on the Chin. It's hard being a chinchilla, but Conrad takes every pit and pratfall in stride. When the shipment of dust for his 'dust bath' is mistaken for a narcotic substance, he ends up being taken to the police station! With hilarious results.

"At 9, Nuts to You¸ the new hit show everyone is talking about. It's a nut factory ... where almost everyone is a little crazy! What happens when the health inspector pays a surprise visit?! The diverse rodent cast will have you rolling.

"Finally, at 9:30, Prick Me , a sitcom with feels. Parsons is looking constantly for love, but who wants to hug a porcupine? You will after watching his latest blind date!

"Tomorrow! Only on SCURRY-TV."

_ _

End commercial break.

In the porch, Piedmont and Clay, still arguing, start to taper off.

Piedmont looks around, blinking.

Clay asks, "Where _is_he?"

"Waverly? I dunno."

Camera cuts to the grey squirrel with Cerise, the two giggling and blushing.

Back to porch.

"Well, if he's not going to end our argument, I mean ... are we gonna have to do it ourselves?"

Piedmont blows out a reluctant breath. "I guess ... "

"Lame!"

"Maybe he's trying to teach us a lesson? If so, that's awfully pert of him!"

"Huh?" Clay echoes.

"Presumptuous."

"Well, whatever. Um ... look, what do you wanna do now? I've moved all your stuff. Or the fox's stuff," Clay corrects, looking around for Harlan. Normally, homeowners were all 'in your face' and trying to get on camera. "Where is he, by the way? We're here to help_him_, and he's (BLEEP!)-ing AWOL."

"Never mind who he's getting himself into," Piedmont quips. "I think we're done with this room."

"Oh. Okay."

A pause.

Clay crosses his arms and suggests, "Maybe we should take a snack break, then, before moving to the next."

"Snacks? What kind of snacks?" Piedmont asks, intrigued.

A shrug, and then a slow, mischievous grin. "We're squirrels. Let's raid his cabinets and find out."

Piedmont smirks.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont:"Temporary truce for snacks? I think that's also covered by the Geneva Convention."

Cut to entertainment room.

In due time, Waverly and Cerise have organized everything. They sit in the middle of the space, admiring their work.

"We should move to the next room," Cerise says.

"Should," Waverly agrees.

Neither leaves.

"I always wonder how long it takes after we leave for things to fall apart again," Cerise says, easing to her back on the carpeted floor, staring at the ceiling. "We never revisit these places."

Waverly lays down beside her. "You can always tell, though, right? Who the chronic 'mess-a-holics' are? Some of our hosts have it together, and others are just ... living in the moment." A pause. "Our foxy friend seems to be the latter."

"Nothing wrong with living in the moment," Cerise says, giving him a harmless elbow. "Like when we were playing just now? Wasn't planned. Just ... happened."

"Yeah ... "

He turns his head, looks to her.

She looks to him.

Call it magnetism. Or gravity. But, soon, he is rolling toward her, and their lips are meeting in a soft, tilting kiss.

Which is immediately_interrupted by Clay, bursting in, crumbs tumbling off his whiskers, "Guys. _Snacks." He crunches and nods at them. "Mmf. Heeyyyyy! What's goin' on here?"

Crunch-crunch-crunch.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Waverly:"Well,Clay, I was nibbling on the most beautiful red squirrel in the universe, but, sure, I'll settle for flamin' hot dill pickle potato chips instead."

Cut to hallway, Zora and Harlan.

"What's down there?" Zora asks.

"Oh, uh ... y'know, just some rooms? Bedroom, maybe," the fox mumbles.

"Maaaybe?" Zora asks in a giggling, singsong tone. She saunters toward that door, the camera captivated by the cadence of her hips, the way she twirls and moves.

Harlan follows, sniffing at her, daring to touch that regal tail. When she doesn't object, he starts to comb it with his fingers. She's so warm! He can feel the heat of her.

He's shivering, almost panting. He's rarely felt like this! "You're like (BLEEP!)-ing ginger and nutmeg and ... mmm." A huff. "Allll the good spices."

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan:"Yeah, there are bad spices. Celery salt?" He makes a gagging noise. "(BLEEP!) that. Celery is gross. It's like if seaweed were crispy. Fennel, mustard ... "

He counts on his fingers.

"Cumin?"

He tilts his head, spreading his paws.

Back to hallway.

The giant squirrel, with a fevered look in her eyes, says, "You like it spicy, foxy?"

He nods eagerly. "Uh-huh!"

Zora kicks open his bedroom door, demanding huskily, "Show me."

Start commercial break.

_ _

At dusk, a red squirrel is sitting outdoors by a crackling fire with assorted rodent friends. The moon is full, and the leaves on the nearby trees are dry and golden.

The squirrel goes to gnaw on a wood stick, which instantly breaks in half in their mouth. The squirrel grimaces, barking out in exaggerated pain.

"Has this happened to you?" a voice asks.

The squirrel nods, their friends oblivious to the omniscient narrator.

"Tired of splinters on your tongue? Ready to move on from those old chew sticks?"

"Yes!" the squirrel declares. "But what can I do?"

"Try Ro-chews!"

In a flash, the product finds itself magically transported into the squirrel's paws.

The squirrel's eyes widen.

"Your teeth are special," the announcer says. "They don't stop for anything, and neither should you! Ro-chews_is the chew stick that's _hard on teeth but easy on your mouth! None of that bitter aftertaste. And less mess!"

The squirrel can be seen gnawing on one, laughing at a friend's joke.

"Now, in limited edition pumpkin spice. It's a fall festival for your mouth! Ro-chews. Recommended by four out of five ro-dentists!"

_ _

_ _

_ _

End commercial break.

The team filters out of Harlan's front door. Their stay is over, their task complete.

Waverly and Cerise walk side by side to the S.Y.S. van, paws brushing, close to holding.

Waverly gives a shy, happy smile to the camera as he passes it.

The camera then cuts away, showing before and after shots of all the rooms inside the house. Cleaned and organized!

Cut back to front yard.

"Another house 'squirrelled'," Clay says victoriously, giving a thumbs up to the camera before he gets into the van. He's driving, of course. "There's something rewarding about knowing you left a place better than you found it."

In the background, Piedmont gives the camera a withering look.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Piedmont:"Oh, there was some squirrelling going on, alright."

He crosses his arms.

"We all heard Zora banging that fox. And Waverly is this close to doing it with Cerise. And what about me? Hmm? Mm? What about your handsome, cultured Prevost's squirrel? I mean ... "

He shakes his head, blowing out a breath, at a loss.

"What are the odds of finding a single gay homeowner who is also tragically unorganized?"

He scrunches his muzzle.

"I'd have better luck (BLEEP!)-ing a unicorn."

A head-tilt.

"Or Clay."

Back to front yard.

Zora, the last to leave the house, winks at Harlan, who is understandably sorry to see her go.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Zora:"So, I was actually in, like, crazy heat."

The camera pushes in.

"Yeahhh. Thought I had it under control, and then it was, like, uhh, (BLEEP!). Nature spiked the ball in my face. By then, it was too late. Game, set, match."

She shrugs.

"Would've (BLEEP!)-ed anyone if they'd looked at me for more than three seconds. Ha! Don't worry, I took a pill after, so ... hmm?"

Camera pulls back.

"We were in there quite a while. Um, heh."

She rubs her neck, sheepishly.

"Thing is, I totally forgot foxes had knots ... I mean, until, y'know."

She pauses.

"Oh, yeah, it was good. Wasn't a life-altering experience," she qualifies, "but he scratched my itch. I'm still a little sore, though."

A big smile.

"But we had a super nice chat afterward while we were waiting to get unstuck. Yeah. I think I got him interested in beach volleyball!"

Camera cuts to shot of the squirrels driving away, the fox waving goodbye. The dumpster truck follows, nearly overflowing.

End credits begin to scroll.

INTERVIEW CHAIR - Harlan:"Holy (BLEEP!)."

The camera jump-cuts to a close-up of his expression.

Then jumps back.

"Yeah, we were stuck together for ... I don't know, half an hour? Never been tied with anyone that long. Ever. Bet that's a world record. Has to be. Can you look that up?"

His angular ears flick.

"Oh. Well, I'll do it later, I guess. But I'm telling you, her (BLEEP!) did a number on me."

He says conspiratorially, "Pretty sure she was in heat! Yeah. Jackpot! Heh. Seriously, like ... "

He grins toothily, licking his fangs.

"I was excited with a capital Erection."

He snorts at his 'joke.'

A pause, blinking.

"Am I allowed to say that?"

Another pause, scrunching his face.

"I hope mom isn't watching this ... "

End of show.

_ _

_ _

The narrator is back.

"Thanks for watching Squirrel Your Stuff! We'll be back with an all-new episode next Wednesday. When the S.Y.S. team is asked to 'clean the cobwebs' out of a haunted house, they surely won't get paranoid and see ghosts? Or will they?

"Stay tuned for Rat Your Ride!

"Only on SCURRY-TV. Programming to gnaw on."