Disclaimer: Looney Tunes is by Warner Bros.

Long-Eared Company

Today was the worst day of your life.

Your job, your friends, your family, everything seemed to go wrong today. Depressed and worn out, you hoped that something to eat would cheer you up. Wandering aimlessly around town, you think to yourself 'Life is hopeless'.

You didn't care which way you went off to, you just wanted to go somewhere to kill some time tonight. You eventually find a restaurant and walk in.

When you stepped in, the patrons were rather normal characters. Just people. Surely, you wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary in a restaurant, right? It wasn't until you went to take a seat did you find yourself staring at the piano man.

Or rather, piano rabbit.

The rabbit in question was gray furred and stood on his two rabbit's ('or is he a hare?' you wondered.) feet, which were white in color like his belly and a part of his tail. He wore white gloves on his hands, which didn't even leave a track on the piano keys. His long, gray ears stood up, listening to the melody of 'Nola'.

Wondering what a rabbit was doing at a restaurant, you take a seat next to him. The ears hear you coming, thus getting the rabbit's attention. Stopping his piano playing, he reaches for a carrot in a bucket full of ice and carrots and turns to you, eating the vegetable. "Eh," the Lagomorph began in between bites. "What's up, doc?"

Not wanting to appear rude, you look him in the eye with curiosity. "Not much," you reply. "Do you come here often?"

"Just t' tickle the ivories from time t' time," the rabbit answered. He played a few little notes with his free hand to demonstrate.

"Bugs Bunny usually comes here when he's off," a waitress told you as she stopped by. "He likes to play for the guests, and the guests like his piano playing, too."

"I see," you reply with a smile, but with slight melancholy. Bugs notices this and sets the carrot down on top of the piano.

"Why so low, doc?" he asked.

"Depressed. My day was just horrible," you reply.

Bugs stroked his chin for a moment. He turned to another waitress. "Oh, miss," he called out, getting her attention. "I'd like a glass of carrot juice and some water on the rocks for the gent here."

The waitress went off. Bugs picked up his carrot. "Now, if you don't mind, what happened?" he asked.

"My grandmother passed away a week ago," you begin. "I've mostly gotten over it, but it's what happened afterwards that's got me down."

Bugs nodded and took a bite of his carrot, gesturing for you to go on. "My parents have been fighting. My friends are going places. My boss told me he doesn't like what I was doing with my part of the job. It's been going on for a while, but today I finally snapped at my boss when he said that I wasn't indispensable. I told him that I'd take my work elsewhere and stormed off."

"Oooh, them's fightin' words, doc," Bugs noted.

"I didn't mean it," you tell him.

"But you did what a wise man told ya to do, doc, make lemonade out of lemons," the rabbit assured. "If you think that's bad, I was asked to ring the bell for the church. I thought that meant I was supposed to pull the rope."

He revealed a purple and white bruise in the side of his head. You cringe. "Boy was I wrong," he finished as he turned his head back to you. "Then some cat comes along and bites me in the ear while I was sleepin'. It started as a playful nip at first, but after a few nibbles, he bore his fangs and chomp!"

His right ear bent down, revealing a bite mark. It bent back up. "I was not at my old charm, even if I tried," Bugs continued. "So I came here to vent some frustration on the piano."

"But you know what you said earlier," you reply with a smile. "You need to make lemonade out of lemons. Or carrot juice out of carrots in your case."

Bugs finished up his carrot and exhaled. "We're all miserable deep down, ain't we?" he asked, rubbing his head.

"Yeah, and misery loves company," you add.

You slap the rabbit on the back. He jumped in surprise before turning to you. You give a slight chuckle. He shrugs and goes back to playing the piano, you listening to his next melody.