I stared at the fuzzy pink diary laid out on the bed in front of me, slowly
undoing the lock that separated me from years of my trials and tribulations
in the bunny cadet world. The first page, one from five short years ago,
made me the kind of teary-eyed nostalgic that only a fellow cadet would
understand. I could remember so well my first day out there; the first day
I finally found where I belonged in a world so devoid of bunnies. I had
met my best friends in bunny cadet training, had received that very diary
as a reward for acing said training, and recalling the feeling made the
tears flow.
"Stop it Adam," I told myself, swiping at my eyes and adjusting my long white ears. "Only humans cry. You're a bunny remember? You're a divine life form so above humans, one dedicated to a world that only you and your fellow cadets will ever understand. You love that world, you know you do!"
I turned to a fresh page in my diary before I could actually bring myself to read the words whose presence had turned me half-human. Flopping on my stomach and kicking my feet in the air, humming the words to a Britney Spears song, I began to write.
The Fourth Day in the Year of the Great Bunny Giggly Fluff
12:19 AM I have to stop reading these old diary entries, the ones from the very beginning of the bunny cadet files. Crying is for humans, we all know that, and sometimes I wonder whether or not I'm too human to be a bunny. But then I look at all the plaques on my walls, the awards and certificates of bunny cadet achievement, and I laugh at my own stupidity.
"Adam!" I say. "You are one dumb bunny! You look at what you've accomplished and you have the nerve to call yourself anything less than a bunny?"
Bunnies are my life, of course, and
I stopped writing, suddenly, hearing the theme song of my favorite show of all time, MTV's Tail dater's coming from the speakers of my all-new Bunny Vision TV. I nearly hit myself in the ear with my sparkly purple pen as the contestants and their friends came out on screen. I began cheering wildly, all the while promising myself that one day, it would be me up there, about to meet my bunny soul mate.
Just then, the screen went dark. I screamed, clawing at my uniform, until suddenly it lit up bright pink and white. The bunny cadet colors! I screamed again, but this time it was the squealing kind of scream I do whenever something particularly bunny-ish is happening. The show's host came on, a 1-800 number flashing beneath him.
"Calling all bunnies!" he shrieked. "Calling all single bunnies who would like to meet their bunny soul mate courtesy of a special bunny edition of MTV's Tail dater's!"
"You're calling me!" I cried. "Oh yes, you're calling me!"
"Any single bunny, male or female or neither gender, can call this number to apply. You must give the operator your telephone number and address and then send us a five-minute tape telling us why you should be on our show. The address will be shown at the end of this episode of Tail dater's." He paused. "There's only one catch. In order to apply you must be.the sassiest bunny this show has ever seen!"
Oh my God. This show was made for me! Everyone knows I'm the sassiest bunny around-I won the Mr./Miss Sassy Bunny competition every year I entered. I immediately leapt up and began strutting around in front of the mirror. I was so busy being sassy I didn't notice when the door opened and my two friends, Steven and Trung, entered the room.
"Adam!" Trung cried, in astonishment. He hated it whenever I was sassy-he had been reduced to runner up in the Sassy Bunny competition because of me.
I whipped around, shocked.
"NO LOOKING!" I screamed, and reached for my bunny badge to hurl at them.
Steven grabbed Trung's arm and wailed in fear. "TrungTrungTrungTrung-"
"Oh shut up you great heaping mound of dandruff!" Trung cried, trying to fling the clinging cadet off while little white flakes fell like snow around the room.
"Wheeeeeeeeee!" I cried gleefully, wishing that I had a pole of some kind to slide down, so as to maximize the sassiness of my delight.
Sassiness.
"Trung!" I barked. "Steven! I need you bunnies to help me. You know how my relationship with the bunny tail failed when I found out it was part of a Playboy Halloween costume? Remember how I swore off bunnies? Well I lied. I need you to make me seem like the sassy bunny you know I am so I can get on a dating show. Okay?" When neither replied I flipped my hair and extended a hand. "Giiiiiiiiiiirls don't you be telling me you won't help me get on Tail dater's. That's, like, a bunny code violation."
That seemed to scare Steven even more than my violent bunny badge outbreak. He started screaming Trung's name so loud the only way I could drown it out was by strutting my stuff without screaming at bunnies not to look.
"Stop it Adam," I told myself, swiping at my eyes and adjusting my long white ears. "Only humans cry. You're a bunny remember? You're a divine life form so above humans, one dedicated to a world that only you and your fellow cadets will ever understand. You love that world, you know you do!"
I turned to a fresh page in my diary before I could actually bring myself to read the words whose presence had turned me half-human. Flopping on my stomach and kicking my feet in the air, humming the words to a Britney Spears song, I began to write.
The Fourth Day in the Year of the Great Bunny Giggly Fluff
12:19 AM I have to stop reading these old diary entries, the ones from the very beginning of the bunny cadet files. Crying is for humans, we all know that, and sometimes I wonder whether or not I'm too human to be a bunny. But then I look at all the plaques on my walls, the awards and certificates of bunny cadet achievement, and I laugh at my own stupidity.
"Adam!" I say. "You are one dumb bunny! You look at what you've accomplished and you have the nerve to call yourself anything less than a bunny?"
Bunnies are my life, of course, and
I stopped writing, suddenly, hearing the theme song of my favorite show of all time, MTV's Tail dater's coming from the speakers of my all-new Bunny Vision TV. I nearly hit myself in the ear with my sparkly purple pen as the contestants and their friends came out on screen. I began cheering wildly, all the while promising myself that one day, it would be me up there, about to meet my bunny soul mate.
Just then, the screen went dark. I screamed, clawing at my uniform, until suddenly it lit up bright pink and white. The bunny cadet colors! I screamed again, but this time it was the squealing kind of scream I do whenever something particularly bunny-ish is happening. The show's host came on, a 1-800 number flashing beneath him.
"Calling all bunnies!" he shrieked. "Calling all single bunnies who would like to meet their bunny soul mate courtesy of a special bunny edition of MTV's Tail dater's!"
"You're calling me!" I cried. "Oh yes, you're calling me!"
"Any single bunny, male or female or neither gender, can call this number to apply. You must give the operator your telephone number and address and then send us a five-minute tape telling us why you should be on our show. The address will be shown at the end of this episode of Tail dater's." He paused. "There's only one catch. In order to apply you must be.the sassiest bunny this show has ever seen!"
Oh my God. This show was made for me! Everyone knows I'm the sassiest bunny around-I won the Mr./Miss Sassy Bunny competition every year I entered. I immediately leapt up and began strutting around in front of the mirror. I was so busy being sassy I didn't notice when the door opened and my two friends, Steven and Trung, entered the room.
"Adam!" Trung cried, in astonishment. He hated it whenever I was sassy-he had been reduced to runner up in the Sassy Bunny competition because of me.
I whipped around, shocked.
"NO LOOKING!" I screamed, and reached for my bunny badge to hurl at them.
Steven grabbed Trung's arm and wailed in fear. "TrungTrungTrungTrung-"
"Oh shut up you great heaping mound of dandruff!" Trung cried, trying to fling the clinging cadet off while little white flakes fell like snow around the room.
"Wheeeeeeeeee!" I cried gleefully, wishing that I had a pole of some kind to slide down, so as to maximize the sassiness of my delight.
Sassiness.
"Trung!" I barked. "Steven! I need you bunnies to help me. You know how my relationship with the bunny tail failed when I found out it was part of a Playboy Halloween costume? Remember how I swore off bunnies? Well I lied. I need you to make me seem like the sassy bunny you know I am so I can get on a dating show. Okay?" When neither replied I flipped my hair and extended a hand. "Giiiiiiiiiiirls don't you be telling me you won't help me get on Tail dater's. That's, like, a bunny code violation."
That seemed to scare Steven even more than my violent bunny badge outbreak. He started screaming Trung's name so loud the only way I could drown it out was by strutting my stuff without screaming at bunnies not to look.