Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 2

Dr. Bear shook his head. “I recognize the engine. That’s Perfectly Frank’s Suzuki Samurai. I asked him to come over.”
“Why? Who the hell is perfectly frank?”
“He is bringing weed. His name is Toad.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
Rabbit chose to precede his response with what he considered a thoughtful gaze. The door swung open, forestalling his words.
A fat man with excited brown eyes entered the tree. He had the ruddiest lips Rabbit has ever seen. He jumped up into the air, sniffing loudly.
“Oy! To be perfectly frank… the air in here stinks.”
“Uhm. Yes. It does.” Rabbit looked upon the invading primate with distaste. “I thought you were a toad.”
“I am Toad.”
“You are hairless… and you did jump. But you are no toad.”
“I am Toad.”
“Are you high?” Bear was drooling, great gobs of saliva hitting the ground with wet splats.
Toad chuckled. “Not yet… Just wait.” He produced a clear plastic bag of suspicious looking dried plant matter. “Huh? Oy!”
“Are you Australian?” Rabbit’s tone could have frozen liquid nitrogen.
“To be perfectly frank, I was born there.”
Rabbit nodded with a lazy, peaceful smile. He slowly sidled towards the flame thrower. “Is that so?”
Bear put a gigantic clawed paw on rabbit’s shoulder. His booming voice whispered in his ear, blasting his eardrum. “HE’S GOT WEED, RABBIT. DO NOT FRY HIM UNTIL HE GIVES US THE WEED.”
Toad’s hands froze over the plastic bag. His smile froze as well. He nodded. He smiled. He nodded. A single drop of perspiration condensed into existence in the geometric center of his forehead. The dewdrop of mortal fear fattened and ran down his nose, finally dropping to the ground.
“I THINK HE IS ON TO US, RABBIT.”
“Stop whispering, you ass.”
“Oh. I think he is on to us, Rabbit.”
Those excited brown eyes traversed the extent of the tree. “Uhm… Oy… So, where is Mr. Fox? I normally deal with Mr. Fox.”
“He had all the smoking he could handle.”
“Chuckle chuckle Dr. Bear. I am so amused.” Rabbit sighed and moved away from the flame thrower. “Don’t worry, Toad. I won’t kill you. Let’s smoke some and relax.”
Toad opened the bag and held it out to Rabbit. “Sniff this shit!”
Rabbit poked his nose into the bag. He breathed in deeply. “Holy shit.”
Bear looked on hopefully. “That good?”
“It smells like… it smells like… it SMELLS LIKE CATNIP. IT SMELLS LIKE FUCKING CATNIP. I AM GOING TO KILLLL YOOOOUUUU.”
“Cats like it! To be perfectly frank, you…”
“Shut up! Try being PERFECTLY FRIED!” Rabbit sprinted towards the weapon of mayhem.
Dr. Bear lied on top of it. “Maybe… maybe we can still smoke it.”
Rabbit skidded to a halt next to the gigantic furry ursanoid. He tried to tug the end of the barrel out from underneath the 2000 pound omnivore. “So…” he gasped. “What you are suggesting is that we smoke some catnip while we consume REFRIGERATED honey mixed with the charred ashes of my hereditary enemy?”
Dr. Bear thought about this. “Well, yeah.”
“To be perfectly frank,...”
“SHUT UP.” They said it in unison.
“Okay, okay…” Without another word he rolled a joint and faced Rabbit. He gazed upon his face and saw something so horrible, so elementally evil that he gave it to Dr. Bear instead.
“Light it for me. I have gigantic claws. Ever tried to use a lighter with gigantic claws? It’s a total pain, let me tell you.”
Toad lit the joint and passed it to Dr. Bear. The bear took a deep, satisfied drag. “That’s some good shit…” he mumbled. His eyes immediately took on a sedate, glassy sheen.
“Okay, now that just does it for me. Even if that was the greatest pot ever grown… You are too huge to get stoned from a single drag.”
Bear handed the joint over to Rabbit. His face was a blank, wondrous page in a long lost book of paradise. “mmmmmm….”
Rabbit sighed and accepted. He shrugged and breathed in the smoke.

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