Mugger

Roger held his hands stiffly overhead. He could feel the cold wind reaching down his sleeves, but he didn’t dare move, even to shiver.

“All right, now slowly - slowly! - reach down and pull out your wallet.”

Roger eased his arm down with as much speed as he dared. If he’d had a gun… but he didn’t. Nice moves, he chided himself. Now you’re being robbed by this… animal.

“Ain’t personal, bub,” chirped the squirrel as Roger flopped his wallet onto the ground. “Gotta stock up for winter, you know.” With a flip of his tail, he was gone.