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Mar. 4th, 2008 12:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
misterbunny.livejournal.com((OOC:This is kind of long. I found myself writing, and unable to stop. Definitely the longest intro post I've ever written. I give you fair warning, the humor is what one finds funny at early hours of the morning, after not sleeping the night before. Also, behind the cut is R-rated. More on that later))
Somewhere, far away from here, a Bunny is making his way through a desolate and barren burrow. Of course, it's his own fault the place is empty. Killed off all the inhabitants when he first arrived in this strange place. Just the inhabitants of the holes, not the human ones. Those guys are a trip and a half. If he hadn't been programmed so well, he'd have tried to kill a lot more of them. Stupid non violence rules.
Although the Bunny doesn't exactly have thoughts, per se, (he's a robot, it's all programmed somewhere in him) he does find that his thoughts have just been derailed. There's something in the air. Something, well, different. It doesn't take long at all to run the smell through his sensors, comparing it to several likely possibilities, until one comes up as a perfect match. Earth air. Somewhere deep in these tunnels, there's a link to Earth.
It doesn't take him long to gather up his supplies. A small crossbow, a dozen or so knives, and his trusty flame thrower. The crossbow and knives are stripped down, folded up, and hidden beneath his fur. It's for the best, really. The flamethrower on the other hand- Maybe he should just blow it up here? Nah. Time for that later.
So, fully loaded with lethal weaponry, and dragging a full tank of napalm, a cute little black and white lop eared rabbit make his way deeper into the depths of his most recent prison.
(It will be said, because it needs to be said, The Bunny is not that other switchblade toting homicidal rabbit. Very similar, and, in fact, his designs were based upon That Other Rabbit, but it is not him. Thank you, for your support.)
After crawling for what feels like, well, three hours, 28 minutes 12 seconds (thank you, internal clock) Mister Rabbit pokes his cute little nose out of the cute little hole in the ground, and peers in interest at all the cute little snow around him. Sorry, the cute, it is contagious.
He peers beady red eyes upwards at the sign in front of him. Odd. It's your basic 'Welcome to ____ City, Population ____' But where the number should be, someone has written something in a rather odd reddish brown coloring.
"Welcome To South Park, Co. Population: Declining!"
The Bunny can't help but grin. "Think I'm gonna like this place."
Badda Boom!
Would be the sound of a nuclear explosion wiping the small town of South Park off the map. rising high into the air is a blossoming mushroom cloud, hopefully carrying away any trace of those sickening Woodland Critters.
And, high in the sky, riding out the shock wave atop a metal garbage can lid, is a very small Bunny, with a very big grin on his face. "This place is fiskin' awesome!"
Somewhere, far away from here, a Bunny is making his way through a desolate and barren burrow. Of course, it's his own fault the place is empty. Killed off all the inhabitants when he first arrived in this strange place. Just the inhabitants of the holes, not the human ones. Those guys are a trip and a half. If he hadn't been programmed so well, he'd have tried to kill a lot more of them. Stupid non violence rules.
Although the Bunny doesn't exactly have thoughts, per se, (he's a robot, it's all programmed somewhere in him) he does find that his thoughts have just been derailed. There's something in the air. Something, well, different. It doesn't take long at all to run the smell through his sensors, comparing it to several likely possibilities, until one comes up as a perfect match. Earth air. Somewhere deep in these tunnels, there's a link to Earth.
It doesn't take him long to gather up his supplies. A small crossbow, a dozen or so knives, and his trusty flame thrower. The crossbow and knives are stripped down, folded up, and hidden beneath his fur. It's for the best, really. The flamethrower on the other hand- Maybe he should just blow it up here? Nah. Time for that later.
So, fully loaded with lethal weaponry, and dragging a full tank of napalm, a cute little black and white lop eared rabbit make his way deeper into the depths of his most recent prison.
(It will be said, because it needs to be said, The Bunny is not that other switchblade toting homicidal rabbit. Very similar, and, in fact, his designs were based upon That Other Rabbit, but it is not him. Thank you, for your support.)
After crawling for what feels like, well, three hours, 28 minutes 12 seconds (thank you, internal clock) Mister Rabbit pokes his cute little nose out of the cute little hole in the ground, and peers in interest at all the cute little snow around him. Sorry, the cute, it is contagious.
He peers beady red eyes upwards at the sign in front of him. Odd. It's your basic 'Welcome to ____ City, Population ____' But where the number should be, someone has written something in a rather odd reddish brown coloring.
"Welcome To South Park, Co. Population: Declining!"
The Bunny can't help but grin. "Think I'm gonna like this place."
Badda Boom!
Would be the sound of a nuclear explosion wiping the small town of South Park off the map. rising high into the air is a blossoming mushroom cloud, hopefully carrying away any trace of those sickening Woodland Critters.
And, high in the sky, riding out the shock wave atop a metal garbage can lid, is a very small Bunny, with a very big grin on his face. "This place is fiskin' awesome!"
