NMBS Delays Blamed on Squirrel Invasion: Commuters Left Nutty!

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The early morning fog still clung to the Brussels-Midi station, a damp shroud over the usual pre-dawn bustle. But this wasn’t a typical Tuesday. This was the beginning of the Great Squirrel Sabotage, an event that would leave thousands of commuters, and the NMBS itself, reeling.

It started subtly. A flickering signal here, a stalled train there. Minor inconveniences, easily dismissed as just another quirk of the Belgian rail system. But the pattern was undeniable. The delays, initially measured in minutes, began to stretch into hours. Passengers, their faces etched with the growing dread of missed meetings and ruined plans, paced the platforms, muttering dark theories.

Then, the first credible reports emerged. Witnesses, bleary-eyed and disbelieving, spoke of a frantic, furry menace. Tiny paws, they claimed, had been spotted gnawing at vital cables. A bold, brazen attack on the very arteries of commuter life. Investigators, initially skeptical, found themselves faced with an undeniable truth: a veritable army of squirrels, driven by an unknown, insatiable hunger for copper and insulation, had declared war on the railways.

The scenes at stations across the country were chaotic. Commuters, their patience worn thinner than a squirrel’s winter coat, resorted to desperate measures. Some tried to reason with the culprits, offering nuts and seeds in a bizarre, one-sided negotiation. Others, fueled by caffeine and sheer frustration, attempted to shoo the bushy-tailed invaders away with briefcases and umbrellas. It was a losing battle. The squirrels, seemingly organized and relentless, were everywhere. They darted across tracks, scaled signal boxes, and, most alarmingly, seemed to possess an uncanny knowledge of the NMBS’s weak points.

The NMBS, caught completely off guard, scrambled to respond. Engineers, armed with nets and a healthy dose of disbelief, were deployed to the most heavily affected areas. But for every squirrel apprehended, ten more seemed to materialize, their beady eyes fixed on their next target. The damage was mounting. Frayed wires, chewed conduits, and a general air of rodent-induced mayhem began to characterize the rail network.

As the days turned into a week, the city’s rhythm faltered. Businesses reported significant losses. The weekend plans of countless families dissolved into a haze of canceled tickets and unanswered phone calls. The question on everyone’s lips wasn’t just *when* the trains would run again, but *why* this had happened. Was it a natural phenomenon? An environmental protest gone awry? Or was there a darker, more sinister force orchestrating this furry reign of terror? The investigation continues, but one thing is certain: the day the squirrels took over the tracks will forever be etched in the annals of Belgian transit history. The commuters, for now, are left to pick up the pieces, their once-reliable journeys now a source of… well, you know.

NMBS Delays Blamed on Squirrel Invasion: Commuters Left Nutty!

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