Bob the Rabbit
by
E.T. Kornhauser
"Right, one rabbit stew c'min' right up!"
Bob the Rabbit, also known by such terrible slurs as Bob the Killer, Bob Big
Teeth, Bob the Man-Eating Rabbit, and once as Bob Hope at the annual burrow-hood
block party, having such great ears, easily heard the man's challenge. At least, Bob took
it as a challenge. So, taking his typical combat stance, which was pretty much how he
always stood, he waited as the man, clad in armor and wielding a sword, approached him
through the early morning light.
What a cocky fellow, thought Bob, and launched himself at the unprepared knight
like an arrow shot from a crossbow.
"Ahhhhh!" screamed the man, though his "Ahhhh," was actually much shorter
than was written here, seeing as how his head was immediately disconnected from his
shoulders, permanently. The sound he truly uttered, if you can call it a sound at all, was
more of a muffled whimper. The man would have screamed, screamed for all he was
worth, but the whole beheading deal had left him quite unable to.
Either way, there was a gasp from his comrades, also clad in stupid and colorful
clothing (though Bob was color blind, like all his other five-hundred siblings), up on the
hill as the knight's head hit the ground and started to roll downward. Bob wished he had
his handkerchief with him so he could wipe off the unsightly red stains that dotted his
fur. He was a very tidy rabbit, and was embarrassed to be seen in public in such a mess
as he was now.
Unless you crackpot crusaders are going to attempt another suicide attack, I'll just
be heading back in, thought Bob. He would have said it, but all the numskull knights,
now crouching behind the rocks like frightened children, would just hear a group of
assorted squeaks. Of course, the rabbit language was far more simple than that of the
complex human dialect, but alas, all human beings were doomed to spend countless
hours being taught to speak correctly some type of gibberish that in the end would waste
more time then they could ever waste on their own!
"Charge!" hollered a big bearded knight, who obviously was the big cheese in
charge of these pillaging nitwits. He held aloft a mighty blade, but it was what was on
top of his head that made Bob cackle silently, for again, the rabbit language only
permitted simple squeaks. The man was wearing what appeared to be a golden crown on
his forehead.
If this big oaf is in charge, thought Bob, whatever country he owns is in some
serious trouble! Who's that with him? Ah, probably just his faithful friend and comrade,
Loungealot! Ha! Noble blood my bushy behind!
Bob was right. These were a bunch of headstrong lunatics who didn't have much
of a desire to live. Hadn't they heard the stories from that crazy old man, Tim the
Enchanter? Hadn't they heard the tale of when he slaughtered a whole army of troops,
single pawed! And even if they hadn't, why didn't they take the clue from all the
scattered bones that lay about the caves? Could they really be that stupid?
Apparently so, thought Bob, and leapt into action, his bushy tail flapping as he
flew...
***
"RUN AWAY!!!"
Yeah, you better run, ya' cowards! called Bob in his mind, as he could not
actually shout taunts at the now fleeing knights. Behind them, they left half a dozen or so
of their number, mostly beheaded, or at least partially beheaded. Some of these knights
had drunk enough milk so he couldn't bite through the spine. However, that didn't
matter, as he could tear through their throats like a hot knife through butter.
Had enough yet, ya' pansies? wondered Bob as he watched all the knights huddle
about their king, looking up at him like sunflowers turning towards the sun. Seeing as
there was no way whatsoever they could defeat mighty Bob, they might as well go back
to whatever smelly old castle they lived in, and he was planning out the quickest route.
Bob smiled with knowing joy as he watched the defeated knights huddle on the ground.
Then something odd happened. Two men, both covered fully by long white
robes, descended down from the hill top above where the knights were, and it appeared
that the knights had beckoned them down. The one on the right carried some sort of
golden chest, which he held with great reverence. Whatever was in there, it obviously
meant something to King Crackerjack and his Merry Morons.
Probably more of those stupid tunics they're wearing! thought Bob. He was
right, they were quite silly looking. One man wore an emblem of a chicken across his
chest, obviously some show of bravery.
Huh? What's this then? thought Bob as he suddenly grew tense and stared up at
the hill. The king had slowly removed the object in the box, and though it was quite far
off, it appeared to be some sort of egg with a golden frame around it. Bob was now very,
very confused.
Well, glad to see they're going to they're getting their breakfast, thought Bob
wearily, Wish I had some. All I've got is grass and weeds. Some healthy diet that is.
Now the king had stretched his arm back as if he were going to throw it.
What? thought Bob, now a touch of anxiety in his voice, or rather his head, Are
they going to start lobbing eggs at me? What will be next? Bacon?
Bobs eyes followed the egg is it let loose from the king's hand and into the sky. It
flew through the air and eventually plopped into the grass less than just a few inches
away from Bob.
Hey, you there! Bob yelled (sort of), you could've hit me wi...
And so King Arthur his Knights of the Round Table were allowed to advance
further in their quest for the Holy Grail.
by
E.T. Kornhauser
"Right, one rabbit stew c'min' right up!"
Bob the Rabbit, also known by such terrible slurs as Bob the Killer, Bob Big
Teeth, Bob the Man-Eating Rabbit, and once as Bob Hope at the annual burrow-hood
block party, having such great ears, easily heard the man's challenge. At least, Bob took
it as a challenge. So, taking his typical combat stance, which was pretty much how he
always stood, he waited as the man, clad in armor and wielding a sword, approached him
through the early morning light.
What a cocky fellow, thought Bob, and launched himself at the unprepared knight
like an arrow shot from a crossbow.
"Ahhhhh!" screamed the man, though his "Ahhhh," was actually much shorter
than was written here, seeing as how his head was immediately disconnected from his
shoulders, permanently. The sound he truly uttered, if you can call it a sound at all, was
more of a muffled whimper. The man would have screamed, screamed for all he was
worth, but the whole beheading deal had left him quite unable to.
Either way, there was a gasp from his comrades, also clad in stupid and colorful
clothing (though Bob was color blind, like all his other five-hundred siblings), up on the
hill as the knight's head hit the ground and started to roll downward. Bob wished he had
his handkerchief with him so he could wipe off the unsightly red stains that dotted his
fur. He was a very tidy rabbit, and was embarrassed to be seen in public in such a mess
as he was now.
Unless you crackpot crusaders are going to attempt another suicide attack, I'll just
be heading back in, thought Bob. He would have said it, but all the numskull knights,
now crouching behind the rocks like frightened children, would just hear a group of
assorted squeaks. Of course, the rabbit language was far more simple than that of the
complex human dialect, but alas, all human beings were doomed to spend countless
hours being taught to speak correctly some type of gibberish that in the end would waste
more time then they could ever waste on their own!
"Charge!" hollered a big bearded knight, who obviously was the big cheese in
charge of these pillaging nitwits. He held aloft a mighty blade, but it was what was on
top of his head that made Bob cackle silently, for again, the rabbit language only
permitted simple squeaks. The man was wearing what appeared to be a golden crown on
his forehead.
If this big oaf is in charge, thought Bob, whatever country he owns is in some
serious trouble! Who's that with him? Ah, probably just his faithful friend and comrade,
Loungealot! Ha! Noble blood my bushy behind!
Bob was right. These were a bunch of headstrong lunatics who didn't have much
of a desire to live. Hadn't they heard the stories from that crazy old man, Tim the
Enchanter? Hadn't they heard the tale of when he slaughtered a whole army of troops,
single pawed! And even if they hadn't, why didn't they take the clue from all the
scattered bones that lay about the caves? Could they really be that stupid?
Apparently so, thought Bob, and leapt into action, his bushy tail flapping as he
flew...
***
"RUN AWAY!!!"
Yeah, you better run, ya' cowards! called Bob in his mind, as he could not
actually shout taunts at the now fleeing knights. Behind them, they left half a dozen or so
of their number, mostly beheaded, or at least partially beheaded. Some of these knights
had drunk enough milk so he couldn't bite through the spine. However, that didn't
matter, as he could tear through their throats like a hot knife through butter.
Had enough yet, ya' pansies? wondered Bob as he watched all the knights huddle
about their king, looking up at him like sunflowers turning towards the sun. Seeing as
there was no way whatsoever they could defeat mighty Bob, they might as well go back
to whatever smelly old castle they lived in, and he was planning out the quickest route.
Bob smiled with knowing joy as he watched the defeated knights huddle on the ground.
Then something odd happened. Two men, both covered fully by long white
robes, descended down from the hill top above where the knights were, and it appeared
that the knights had beckoned them down. The one on the right carried some sort of
golden chest, which he held with great reverence. Whatever was in there, it obviously
meant something to King Crackerjack and his Merry Morons.
Probably more of those stupid tunics they're wearing! thought Bob. He was
right, they were quite silly looking. One man wore an emblem of a chicken across his
chest, obviously some show of bravery.
Huh? What's this then? thought Bob as he suddenly grew tense and stared up at
the hill. The king had slowly removed the object in the box, and though it was quite far
off, it appeared to be some sort of egg with a golden frame around it. Bob was now very,
very confused.
Well, glad to see they're going to they're getting their breakfast, thought Bob
wearily, Wish I had some. All I've got is grass and weeds. Some healthy diet that is.
Now the king had stretched his arm back as if he were going to throw it.
What? thought Bob, now a touch of anxiety in his voice, or rather his head, Are
they going to start lobbing eggs at me? What will be next? Bacon?
Bobs eyes followed the egg is it let loose from the king's hand and into the sky. It
flew through the air and eventually plopped into the grass less than just a few inches
away from Bob.
Hey, you there! Bob yelled (sort of), you could've hit me wi...
And so King Arthur his Knights of the Round Table were allowed to advance
further in their quest for the Holy Grail.