Monday, 20 February 2012

The Raft of the Bunnies

It had been one hell of a stag night. Actually more heaven than hell, if Kevin was honest with himself. All those nymphomaniac bunnyettes in the Night Warren, the magic carrots they’d bought from that dodgy-looking hare, and more lettuce cider than any lagomorph with half a brain would ever dream of drinking in one evening. Not surprising then that Wayne had been puking over the side of the raft ever since they got back on board, while Billy was slumped, hungover-head in paw, half-heartedly restraining an unconscious sibling from slipping into the rather lively waters of the Leporid Channel.

Someone, probably one of the two stoned carrot-heads in the bows, was singing a tuneless version of Mr Tambourine Bunn, and Kevin wished they would stop. He probably should have been feeling guilty. In spite of all his faithful promises to his fiancée Sharon, he’d ended up back in a bohemian burrow with a couple of very cute and wholly uninhibited twin cottontails, and they’d spent most of the night making the beast with three backs... Three backs…? How had that worked exactly? … Shit, those magic carrots were still blowing his mind!

Kevin leaned over and ducked his head into an icy wave. When he looked up, through clearer eyes, he saw a sailboat racing towards them. Carrots or no carrots, Sharon was suddenly looking decidedly different from how he remembered her.

This mini-story was inspired by "The Raft of the Bunnies", an ipad fingerpainting by Matthew Watkins. Website:

No comments:

Post a Comment