Harvey was late. How could he possibly be late to the biggest event of the year? The bushy middle-aged squirrel bounded down the tree he likes to call home and went rushing off to the great harvest with the rest of the squirrels. Ironically, it was this lateness, this tangle in Harvey's bowtie that would make him cuss and swear so much at his sartorial ineptitude, that would spare him from the ensuing pandemonium. This lateness to his one chance of binge before the oncoming winter would have mysterious blessings. "Why..." "Why?!" Just then, Harvey spied something. ~FIN~