Logline
In Central Park, where squirrels sit at the top of a rodent class system, an optimistic squirrel with dreams of being mayor falls in love with a rat, threatening the entire social fabric of squirrel society.
World
The anthropomorphic animal world of this story co-exists with the world we know as humans. It’s not a matter of magic, but perception. We see an unintelligent, fluffy, naked rodent; the squirrels see themselves walking on two legs, wearing clothes, and living a gentrified life. We see a tree; the squirrels see a tree on the outside, with a decadent infrastructure on the inside.
They’re civilized, but they’re still scavengers, not inventors, so their technology is our technology, repurposed.
A used AA battery might be trash for us, but it can power a hefty weapon in the rodent world. What was once a serving bowl may live again as the hull of a boat.
Initial sketch of Julie’s room
Of course, the rodents aren’t alone in the park. Animals of different species can speak to and understand each other, with the exception of fish, obviously, since fish can’t talk. Carnivores are still carnivorous, and all other natural laws exist as well. For the most part, though, the other animals have their own problems to worry about and are not wholly involved in rodent conflicts. There may be squirrels and other creatures of interest in the city, but they are of no consequence to the story. The city is a different place, like the ocean is different from land. The world of the story is Central Park, and it ends where the streets and buildings begin.
