embattled

My goodness, we're really getting them "Hereabouts". Fanatics, extreme sports enthusiasts, or "strangers" as we like to refer to them. They're either whizzing down the hillside on bikes, or kayaking across the bay clad in startlingly coloured lycra - which I have to say, does nobody any favours.
As readers will know, we prefer to keep ourselves to ourselves "Hereabouts", and don't particularly welcome visitors with their demands for mod cons and muesli-style breakfast cereals.
We had an emergency top level meeting at Tupfinder Towers, in which we discussed a strategy, viz., setting up a lengthy trip wire to run along the hillside, parallel with the cliffs, and similar in style and effect to the one which so effectively despatched the "stranger in our midst" just a few days ago. If we can manage to connect it up to the old generator over at the Old Rectory, and electrify it, better still. (by the way - renovations at the Old Rectory are continuing apace and it should be ready for habitation very soon. Apsley and Cherry have been forced to move out of Tupfinder Towers due to Mrs T-G having "one of her turns" and brandishing a carving knife at them over the dinner table, while screaming "are you NEVER going to leave?", and are living in a caravan next to the Old Rectory)
Not that we mean any harm to anyone, of course. Once they've tumbled off their bikes it's hardly our fault if they end up in the bay, a thousand feet below. And hardly our fault if they can't swim fast enough to avoid the snapping jaws of Baby Orca. Mind you, he's quite likely to be full up after bingeing on kayakers.
So, we feel satisfied with our plan to keep Ourselves to Ourselves and fight off the encroachment of the modern world. So far, so good.