©2003 Richard S. Crawford; 1,207 words
WARNING: This story contains explicit and possibly offensive content. Not for children, the faint of heart or those who are fond of friendly, happy bunnies and other woodland creatures.
Little Fluffy Wiggletoes was a bad bunny. Little Fluffy Wiggletoes was a very bad bunny indeed.
Very few bunnies were as bad as Little Fluffy Wiggletoes the Bunny. Very few bunnies were bad at all. Most bunnies were good bunnies, eating their carrots and their lettuce when their mommies told them to, and staying out of Farmer McGregor’s garden. Sometimes, a bunny might be a little bit bad, just like you, and would sneak into the garden and sneak out an extra radish. Or a bunny might throw a tantrum when it was time to take a bath, but I’m sure you’ve never done that.
Little Fluffy Wiggletoes, though, was much worse than any of that. While all the other bunnies were thinking about how many carrots they should eat to keep their eyes sharp and how much lettuce they needed to keep their tails fluffy, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes was dreaming about world conquest, and about imposing his iron will on an unsuspecting populace. While other bunnies dreamed about sugarplums and frolicking in the meadows, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes dreamed about blood raining down from the sky and thousands of defeated humans crying out his name in praise and fear.
But being an evil genius was hard for a little bunny, especially for a bunny with such a cute little puffy cottontail. Each day, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes would try to rally the other bunnies in the warren to march by his side, but they all laughed at him.
“You’ll never be the Emperor of the World,” they kept telling him. “What a silly bunny you are! Come and play in the meadows, where Mr. Badger is going to tell us stories about life in the forest and then we’re all going to drink until we go pukie!”
Actually, they only told him that once. After the carnage was over, the remaining bunnies knew better than to go too close to Little Fluffy Wiggletoes.
Poor Little Fluffy Wiggletoes only had one good friend in the world, and that was Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail. Every day Little Fluffy Wiggletoes and Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail would go walking through the meadow, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes with a sneer twisting his cute little twitchy nose and Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail gazing insipidly at her bestest friend in the world. Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail, boys and girls, is what we call “developmentally delayed”, but she was a hell of a fuck and she could do thing with her tail that most men only dream about. Like making really neat sandcastles.
One day, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes and Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail were walking through the big grassy meadow, chasing butterflies and eating them, and talking about lots of different exciting things.
Soon they came to a place that they had never been before. There was a sandbox and some swings and a see-saw and some benches and all kinds of neat things. It was a place that you would love to go play at, boys and girls.
Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail said, “Oh! Look at all the little children playing in the park!”
Little Fluffy Wiggletoes said, “What fun they’re having! I wish we could go and have fun with them!”
“Well, let’s go!” Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail said. “I’m sure they’d love to have us to play with!”
“Yes, let’s do that!” said Little Fluffy Wiggletoes. “But first, come behind this bush and fluff me up.”
“Oh, yes!” Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail said.
Later on, when Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail had finished wiping off her mouth — she had been eating white chocolate, you see (don’t you like white chocolate, boys and girls?) — she and Little Fluffy Wiggletoes went into the playground.
Right away, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes climbed up to the top of the tallest slide and looked out over all the little children while Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail stayed at the bottom. One of the little girls said, “Hey, look at the fluffy bunny! He’s all fluffed up!”
“Boys and girls!” said Little Fluffy Wiggletoes. “The hour of your doom is at hand! Behold!” With that he took from his pocket his secret weapon: a Hypno-Ray that looked like a lollipop.
“He has a lollipop!” shouted the boys and girls. I like lollipops, boys and girls, don’t you? I think grape lollipops are my favorite. I have a great big lollipop. If you come with me after Storytime, I’ll let you suck my lollipop.
“Fools!” Little Fluffy Wiggletoes shouted to the horde below him. “This is the X-Tro 200X Hypno-Ray of Doom! Available only at Wal*Mart, the store for all your Super Evil Genius needs! Behold the power of Little Fluffy Wiggletoes!”
All the boys and girls laughed when he said this, because Little Fluffy Wiggletoes is a very silly name for such a bad bunny. But that’s when Little Fluffy Wiggletoes activated the Hypno-Ray. Quick as a bunny, all of the children who were looking at him were instantly lobotomized! Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail was not lobotomized, though, because she was already pretty stupid, being developmentally delayed — what we used to call retarded before some stupid fucking pig-headed bitch of a mommy sued my ass.
But just as Little Fluffy Wiggletoes was about to reprogram all of the children to commit homicides and arson in his name, a voice cried out from across the playground. “Stop right there, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes!”
Little Fluffy Wiggletoes looked up, and he gasped. “Peter Cottontail!” he shouted. “My arch-nemesis! What are you doing here?”
Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail looked up and saw Peter Cottontail standing on top of the picnic table. She swooned, because Peter was so handsome in his white fur and big ears, and because she was a sick pervert who was attracted to men outside her species, and that’s very, very bad, isn’t it boys and girls? It’s as bad as boys kissing other boys!
“I’m stopping you, Little Fluffy Wiggletoes!” shouted Peter Cottontail. “It may be too late for these poor boys and girls, but your evil shall not win the day!”
“Smile when you say that!” said Little Fluffy Wiggletoes, and with that he dropped the Hypno-Ray and pulled out from his other pocket a huge .44 Magnum, almost as big as he was! He pointed it at Peter Cottontail and said, “Prepare to eat lead!”
Peter Cottontail smiled and puffed up his chest. “Go ahead!” he said. “You’ll never be able to hurt me!”
Little Fluffy Wiggletoes smiled gleefully and pulled the trigger on the gun. There was a CRASH and a POW and a big cloud of black smoke and white fur and red blood! Little Fluffy Wiggletoes’s gun had exploded right in his face, killing him instantly (or so everyone thought)! The world was safe!
Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail was shocked. “What happened?” she asked Peter Cottontail.
Peter Cottontail smiled. “He didn’t notice that I had put a carrot in the barrel of his pistol,” he said. “I guess some bunnies will never learn.”
After that, Peter Cottontail euthanized all of the children (which means that he made them go to sleep so they would never have to worry about their brain damage again). Then he and Kindly Miss Paddle-Tail went back to a hot spring so that Peter Cottontail could get some hot wet beaver.
Some bunnies are just born bad.
THE END (or is it?)
Sometimes these things happen. I was bored at work one day, and decided to write a story about a bunny. I don’t know why. This is the result. I’ve always been amused by the juxtaposition of evil genius with intolerable cuteness; but, then, who hasn’t looked at a sleeping baby kitten, and known that said kitten was dreaming of world conquest?
There are several sequels to this story out there, which I wrote back in 2008 as part of my “Story of the Week” project. They need to be edited, but once they are I’ll put them up here.