One of the earliest grunt-like enemies I've ever designed to face against our favorite little snot wad...
A certain race of Flying "Shquirls" tend to over-stuff their incredibly elastic-like mouths with there storage of nuts, and immediately soaring over 15 yards in midair, before pummeling all below with a barrage of bullet like acorns. Their not the brightest of creatures, due to the fact that they almost always starve to death after the Winter months due to this bizarre ritual. However, their territory is always predator free, because of the constant rise in head traumas they suffer while invading. Unfortunately, they fly so high, that they cannot tell the difference between friend and foe, and a blow to the head for their fragile skulls is often fatal.
Once these animals make it to the skies, there is no stopping them... or so it seems...