Lenny The Bunny

Lenny was a very happy bunny.

This was true because he was very happy, and Chance would have it so Lenny was genetically a bunny. There isn't much one can do about nature's decision except try to alter it, which in most cases fails miserably.

And Lenny had no idea how to alter the course of nature, he had not even heard it was possible. Rumours and wild stories such as this takes a long time to come to good old Bunnytown. So Lenny was content being a bunny. And very happy about it too.

He jumped around. A lot.

He gnawed carrots. And there's nothing the carrots can do about it, because perchance they are mute and cannot express their feelings or meanings. It must be frustrating.

Life is serious business for most creatures, except for bunnies. Give a bunny a (mute) carrot, and it will make annoying smacking noises all day. Then they burp, and go to bed. Most bunnies, however, don't know any of this. Actually the only bunnies that know this are dead bunnies. And dead bunnies aren't technically bunnies anymore, so this whatever point was trying to come into existence here falls to pieces on its own rather pathetic inadequacies.

Of all this Lenny was ignorant as only a bunny can be. He was eating, you guessed it, a carrot.

The only rather unexpected thing about this carrot was that it had learnt the art of speech (a noble art, but at times extremely irritating).

The carrot burped loudly. To Lenny it was a strange burp, but this was because up until now he had only heard bunnies burp. A carrots burp is very different to that of a bunny.

Lenny looked horrified at the carrot for a long time. After that long time, he said, "That's disgusting."

"What is?" asked the carrot innocently. Its eyes didn't blink innocently, but then again it had no eyes to blink. It swayed slightly, and managed to do so in quite an innocent way, at least if you let your mind wander and your imagination take over.

A bunny's mind never wanders, because if it could it would bounce up and down out synch with its body. This would have a disastrous effect. Nobody knows exactly what will happen, but everybody is sure the result must be catastrophic. But a bunny's mind never wanders, so there's no problem, really.

"That burp," said Lenny. His mind had not wandered.

"Oh?" said the carrot. "Do you know what is even more disgusting?"

"Yes I do."

The carrot thought about this for a split second. "Oh," it said. "What?"

"A smelly fart."

"No, you're wrong."

"Am I? Then what is worse than burping?" asked Lenny.

"You chewing on little me, chopping bits off me with your teeth and then swallowing me. Rather unpleasant, actually."

"Hmmm."

"You see, I have a suggestion."

Lenny waited.

"Why don't you try to eat a part of yourself for a change?" suggested the carrot.

"No, that hurts," said Lenny, completely failing to see the point of this conversation.

"Exactly," said the carrot.

Lenny thought. About carrots. About hunger. About food. About..

He took another bite of the carrot. It happened to be its head. Well, the bit that talked anyway. First his throat called him by rather obscene names. Then his stomach were singing sad songs to him. During the night his bowels woke him up and pointed out that it was rather smelly in there. Somehow he imagined the smell, knew it was for real, and had to agree; he would never want to live in someones bowels, that was sure.

The next day, after certain necesseties had been dealt with, his toilet spoke to him. It was bored being in the same place all the time and asked him to move it to a better location. He refused, and the toilet cried.

To comfort it, Lenny gave it a few carrots to play with.

The next morning the toiled had turned into a toilet monster. When Lenny came into the bathroom to take a shower, it ate him in one big gulp.

Inside, he met the talking carrot again.

"Hello there, old friend," it said in a friendly voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Being dead, I presume," said Lenny.

Then he realized what no living bunny knows, and laughed for a long time.