I fry 'em at around 400 degrees and then drain 'em on paper towels.
I used to squirrel hunt a lot as a young man. I always found a fallen tree to sit on and wait for them to get calm. Pretty soon they'd come out and I'd pop one and make a line in the dirt pointing the way to where they fell. Pretty soon, another would pop up. Repeat.
After I'd dropped three or four and was waiting for number five, this big, fat fox squirrel comes running right down the log I'm sitting on. He spots me just before he was about to run over me and I could hear the sounds of his nails scratching the bark as he put on his brakes. He let out the most pitiful scream. I picked up my bounty and left him to fight another day.
Charlie's angels! Those are the top three of the Manson clan.