Elmer Fudd: One Dud Too Many
A single tear rolled down Elmer's cheek. He thought back to the days when his mother told him that he would be something in life. "Elmer," she said, "I have all the faith that someday you will accomplish far more than your father and I could ever do. I know we haven't given you the best life, but the ball is now in your court to make it better." Elmer recalled these tender moments as he polished the barrels of his 12 gauge. He had let Buggs get away again; perhaps one time too many.
"I'm such a failuwe." Elmer said to himself, his tone trembling with every word. He slowly tilted the angle of his gun towards his chin. This was the same gun that he had received on the day his father was buried; Elmer's only inheritance. The cold barrel of the gun pressed upon his tender skin as he continued to mumble breathless threats to himself. "I'm gonna dew it," he muttered, getting louder as his finger neared the trigger. "I couldn't even catch a damn wabbit! All I wanted to do in this pebble of a body was to shoot a wabbit! I'm sick of eating nothing but potatoes and collad gweens! I'm not dealing with this shit anymoe!"
Elmer's life flashed before his beady eyes. Scenes of his many failed attempts to catch "that damn wabbit" fluttered through his conscious like photographs slipping through his fingers. Life was never his to control, he was a victim of circumstance. He stared at the wall, more specifically his framed, autographed picture of Bear Grylls. "I'll nevew live up to him." Tears started streaming out of his eyes and stained his plump cheeks.
All the while, Buggs Bunny was watching through Fudd's window. He felt sorrow for the poor soul of Elmer, and couldn't stand to see him leave the earth in this fashion. Buggs knew he needed to intervene. Breaking through the glass, Buggs Bunny leaped through the window. "Wait!" he shouted, startling Elmer. "You don't want to do this, doc," bugs said in a calming voice.
"Get the fuck out of my home." Elmer lashed out. "You've nevew done anythin' good fow me you damn wabbit, you'we the weason why I'm doin' this!"
Buggs made slow steps towards Elmer, making sure not to move too fast. "I was just trying to defend myself, Doc. I never meant any harm." Buggs slowly extended his hand toward the gun. First he touched the gun with his fingertips, until he had the gun within his grasp. Right before Buggs could take the gun away, Elmer yelled, "No mowe cawwots fow you!" In that moment, Elmer jerked the gun towards Buggs and unloaded both barrels point blank into his face. Buggs Bunny's head was split right down the middle from the devastating blasts; he didn't even have a chance to react.
For a moment, all was quiet. The only sound in the room was the subtle tapping, of Buggs' right eye bouncing across Elmer's cabin floor. Elmer was still in a state of shock from what he just did. He then mounted the gun back up on the wall, right next to the picture of Bear Grylls. He stared at the image of his idol, and slowly a grin came across his face. He walked back over to the rabbit's limp carcass. Staring over of the cadaver, his cream-filled trousers leaked onto the rabbit's split skull. He had never felt such an exciting sensation.
Elmer stood over the rabbit with a sense of dominance. What was once a slight smirk grew out to a full blown, crooked, perverse smile. Elmer almost felt light headed, and he struggled to keep his balance. It was a feeling that was hard to describe. He felt sick, sicker than he had ever felt in his entire life. At the same time, the sick, queasy feeling felt amazing to him. Staggering back and forth, mouth agape, Elmer unknowingly stepped onto Buggs' separated eyeball, both smashing it and twisting his ankle, causing him to collapse to the ground. "Even in death, this damn wabbit continues to pwovoke me!"
Anger welled up in his soul, as the blood rushed to his head, turning it a deep shade of pink. Elmer quickly stood up. Balancing on one foot, he picked up the bunny's warm body and tore it in half, causing the bowels to seep out onto Elmer's twisted ankle. In a surrendering voice, Elmer muttered, "If you can't beat em, you might as well join em." He twisted the soggy skin around, wrapping it around his back. The blood from the fresh pelt drooled down his bare spine. Elmer creamed again. This time in a more violent manner. "AHHH!" A passionate wale filled the air, as Elmer's eyes rolled back into his head. His knees shook wildly and his body quivered.
Elmer felt one with his wild nature. A learned man of the scripture would believe that a demon had festered itself in his soul. Elmer now wore the upper half of Buggs' skull on his head, as if it was his own. Elmer was no more, having replaced his soul in exchange for the soul of Buggs. Just how it was intended from the beginning. Buggs' gaze turned back towards the image of Bear Grylls. He grabbed the framed picture, and slammed it on the floor with all of his might. Shattered glass was now strewn across the home of Elmer Fudd, but Buggs Bunny didn't mind. He grabbed the biggest shard he could find, and jammed it into the vein of his arm. Blood began spurting out of the wound, but Buggs didn't even emit a moan; he was completely silent. With his unhindered arm, Buggs put all the pressure he could on the wound to temporarily stop the bloodflow. Buggs slowly moved towards the unused half of the old rabbit's corpse. Finally, after cuddling up to the remains, he removed his hand, allowing the open vein to intermix its blood with the other half. Semen, blood and fur covered the floor.
That day, Elmer had previously scheduled a brunch date with Yosemite Sam. Not knowing what had just occurred, Yosemite Sam opened the door to the cabin. Immediately, his eyes met with the deranged rabbit-man, once named Elmer Fudd. "Holy Cow!" belted out Yosemite Sam. "What happened to you, old pal?" Elmer looked up into the face of his old friend, foam dripping from his chin. He began to stand up, and limp over to Yosemite Sam. Fear entered Sam's old west heart, and he drew his gun. "Don't get any closer, boy! I'm warning you!" Elmer showed no response, but began to speak. "I am the wabbit! I am the wabbit! I AM THE WABBIT!" Yosemite Sam made his final decision and pointed he revolver at Elmer's distorted face. "Goodbye ol' boy." KABLAM! And the forest went silent.