Le Bunny

Le Bunny took a long drag of his cigarette and turned up the volume on the CD player, the wind blowing through his fur as he sped down the suburban back-roads. The effect certainly had the potential to be uber cool had there actually been a CD in the player – and if anyone asked why he was listening to nothing at the loudest possible setting, he would have spouted on about the frivolous and arbitrary nature of popular culture, and how he would much rather be a non conformist. The truth however was that his hearing had deteriorated considerably and he considered “philosophical rebel” to be a much cooler social status than “deaf bunny”, but he would never admit it. He pressed the accelerator and watched the speedometer inch higher when rather suddenly, he ran over quite a large speed bump. Looking in the rear view mirror, Le Bunny saw a little boy lying spread-eagled in the middle of the road, apparently dead.

Le Bunny brought the car to a screeching halt, his heart pounding. The boy in the rear view mirror still hadn’t moved; he was definitely dead. He considered calling the police, but there was no explaining why a bunny was driving a car. “Yes officer, I locked my owner in the cage and force fed him lettuce and carrots until he exploded. Then I borrowed the keys to the family car. The fat git had it coming.” He knew if told the truth he’d fry. Then probably be served with a side of baked potato and mushroom sauce. The thought of it made him lick his lips, it had been a while since he’d eaten. Regrettable though it was, he would have to quickly leave the scene. He hadn’t meant to run over the child, but he couldn’t face these consequences so soon after he’d won his freedom. He shamefully pressed the accelerator again and cast one last fleeting look in the mirror. The boy was gone.

Little Billy’s parents always told him that much more could be achieved by being polite. “Good manners”, they said, “will earn you the respect you deserve”. And so Little Billy had asked the voices in his head (yet again) to please stop telling him to do bad things. He’d always asked politely but they never seemed to listen, and so it was on an otherwise normal Tuesday that Little Billy attempted to silence them once and for all by stabbing them with a fork. Fortunately his parents were much too miserly to purchase good cutlery and the damage to his head was minimal. Feeling rather despondent, he strolled down the road – the fork still sticking out of his head – when he saw, quite oddly, a bunny driving a sports car with the most extraordinary music playing at full volume. He ran towards the car to waved frantically for the bunny to stop, but the voices had told him to stand in the middle of the road while waving and moments later, Little Billy had the most spectacular view of wheels running over his face. The voices chuckled for a bit as he lay there unconscious, poking fun at the expressions he made while being run over, then decided it was time for a late lunch.

Le Bunny sped onto the motorway and followed the quickest road out of town, hoping to leave behind the dreadful memories of his time there. He refused to look into that rear view mirror; he knew that would only make him remember. He didn’t want to remember. The speedometer refused to go any higher, the car raced forward as fast as it possibly could. Despite every attempt not to, Le Bunny glanced at the rear view mirror and Little Billy smiled from the back seat, the fork still sticking out of his head. The car swerved out of control, Le Bunny panicking at the wheel, causing the vehicle to flip over time and time again, the voices in Little Billy’s head screaming with laughter as loud as they could and enjoying the ride.

The engine caught fire shortly after the car came to a halt slowly sizzling Le Bunny’s thigh. Little Billy calmly climbed out of the passenger window, remarkably unharmed. He quickly dislodged the fork from his head and aimed it at the grilled thigh. No sense in wasting a good bunny.