I was walking with my friend Sarah down College Avenue near Ford Hall toward Scott Hall, when a squirrel ran to the center of the sidewalk further down our path, paused, and stood straight up on his hind legs. I jested to Sarah that the squirrel must have been under the control of one of those mangy trolls, and vowed to scare it off. I ran at the squirrel full speed, belting out a battle cry in an attempt to drive it away. As I got within several feet of the squirrel, I realized that it was not afraid of me and was not going anywhere. It maintained it stance, on its hind legs, and didnít move a muscle. I screeched to a halt when I got within a foot of the rodent, got scared out of my mind, and sprinted off in the other direction. The fact that the squirrel showed no fear as I ran toward it freaked me out. In that split second, the joke about the trolls could have been real for all I knew. I just knew that I wasnít sticking around to find out. When I got back to my friend Sarah with a frightened look on my face, she was laughing hysterically. That was the day the trolls had won. Son-of-a-gun, the trolls had won.