It is common knowledge that the members of Lagomorpha Leporidae are irrefutably the most glorious and majestic creatures to grace the skin of this earth. I am speaking, of course, of the Great Hare or “Bunny Rabbit.” While, for most, this may seem a grossly obvious acclamation, I was troubled to discover in my recent soirees with local peers and inferiors, that some do not revere these regal beasts as would be supposed. In fact, at the mere mention of their blatant superiority to all other animalia, and certainly mammals, I have been called “silly” and even “funny.” I do not find my respect for unadulterated fact to be humorous at all. On the contrary, I am downright shocked that one could so much as chuckle at a “bunny” without feeling complete and utter self revile. To this end, I have decided to construct a kind of children’s moral yarn to nip bunny blasphemy at the source. Education is the only cure for the sin of ignorance, and as an avid Lagomorphist it is my destiny to enlighten the masses and eliminate this injustice of gargantuan proportions. Ehem.
Once upon a time there was a little boy named Brutus who was very stupid. Brutus was so stupid that he would insist to all the other little boys and girls at school that bunny rabbits were not the most stupendous creatures in all creation. In fact, he spouted beliefs that rabbits were uniformly simple, idiotic pests, asserting that they were in the Rodentia order of mammals which was, obviously, completely false. Now, Wendy, who was not stupid, soon grew tired of Brutus and his idiotic allegations.
“I believe you are mistaken,” she said to him one day. “For there are many different bunnies with many different souls. For example, floppy-eared rabbits are more aggressive. Dwarf rabbits are more judgmental. And Violet Jackalopes are more inclined to alcoholism.”
“Jackalopes?” snorted Brutus. “Why, they aren’t even real!” Other pupils were beginning to gather around them in the school yard.
“How dare you!” snapped Wendy. “Just because you’ve never seen a Jackalope doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Jackalopes live in the roots of Grape Trees. Everyone knows that.”
“There’s no such thing as a Grape Tree.”
“Do you hear him, everyone? First he doesn’t believe in Jackalopes, and now he doesn’t believe in grapes either!” The schoolyard combusted with laughter.
“Stop it!” Brutus belted in vain. “Stop it I say!” But the guffaws only grew. Brutus, now mad with rage, inflated to his greatest stature and boomed above the crowd. “Rabbits are worthless, disease ridden little fools! They are inferior, disproportioned, sex-crazed rats, and I believe no more in their goodness, than I do in the Violet Jackalope!” A silence fell over the courtyard like vomit, as the children stared at Brutus with wide eyes and foaming mouths.
“Let’s kill him!” yelled Wendy, breaking the shock. And with that each little boy and girl picked up what could be fashioned into a weapon (sharpened lolly pop sticks, baseball bats, tree boughs, jump ropes, morning stars, etc), and went for Brutus. Wendy, who was clearly the cleverest of all the children, ripped down a swing set chain. Together, unified as they never were before, the pupils of Wolpertinger Elementary brutally bludgeoned, stabbed, flogged, and choked Brutus to death. Charges were never pressed. Everyone knew little Brutus deserved what he got. And they all lived Happily Ever After…except for Brutus…