Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 16
Rabbit followed Mr. Fox’s instructions and inserted the hand into the bucket of ink. He fondly licked the bucket with his long tongue. “It does not taste like raspberries.” Rabbit’s voice was tinged with resentment.
“It is because it was never baked.” Mr. Fox rolled his eyes with undisguised exasperation. “So obvious, dummy.”
“So be it.” Rabbit took Benny’s hand from the bucket of ink and affixed it on the bottom of the parchment.
“What does it say?”
“The parchment?”
“Yes, the parchment.”
“I say nothing.” Said the parchment, sarcastically.
Ignoring her, Rabbit cleared his throat and began to read, his voice a sonorous thunder of self gratification:
“I, Benny the Man, the Magic Man, otherwise known as Four Finger Benny, Lord Flasheart of all Ladies, hereby bequeath my Suzuki Samurai to Rabbit. I also bequeath him my firstborn, assuming I have one, particularly if she is hot and at least, say, 16 years old… also, all my possessions that Rabbit might want… and any good porn that may be lying around…. And feel free to check the fridge.”
“This is Benny’s will?”
“Duh!” Rabbit rolled his eyes and brandished the parchment. He shook his paw at the smeared imprint of Benny’s detached hand. “It has his seal!”
Mr. Fox blinked. “Yeeees. Of course it does.”
“Well, let me finish.”
“I thought you finished already?”
Rabbit frowned. “Not quite,” he briefly paused and resumed his reading. “I further leave the vast stocks of cheese buried beneath my mansion at 32 Beechwood Age Drive, Hammersmith, Vermont, to Worker 342212A … what the hell?”
Mr. Fox squinted at the parchment. “Wow – the will is writing itself!”
“Hmmm…. No, I suspect it is wee ant 342212A who is amending this essential document to improve her material well being.”
“I wonder why she wants the cheese.”
“Why would she want cheese? I thought mice liked cheese.”
“Mice do like cheese. That does not mean ants don’t like cheese.”
“Maybe the queen wants the cheese?”
“The will does not bequeath the cheese to the queen. It specifically states ‘Worker 342212A.”
“Hmm. So it does. Did you know Benny had a mansion in Vermont?”
“With vast stocks of cheese?”
“Yes.”
“I did not know that.”
“Cheese is perishable.”
“Perishable.”
“Road trip?”
“Road trip!”
“It is because it was never baked.” Mr. Fox rolled his eyes with undisguised exasperation. “So obvious, dummy.”
“So be it.” Rabbit took Benny’s hand from the bucket of ink and affixed it on the bottom of the parchment.
“What does it say?”
“The parchment?”
“Yes, the parchment.”
“I say nothing.” Said the parchment, sarcastically.
Ignoring her, Rabbit cleared his throat and began to read, his voice a sonorous thunder of self gratification:
“I, Benny the Man, the Magic Man, otherwise known as Four Finger Benny, Lord Flasheart of all Ladies, hereby bequeath my Suzuki Samurai to Rabbit. I also bequeath him my firstborn, assuming I have one, particularly if she is hot and at least, say, 16 years old… also, all my possessions that Rabbit might want… and any good porn that may be lying around…. And feel free to check the fridge.”
“This is Benny’s will?”
“Duh!” Rabbit rolled his eyes and brandished the parchment. He shook his paw at the smeared imprint of Benny’s detached hand. “It has his seal!”
Mr. Fox blinked. “Yeeees. Of course it does.”
“Well, let me finish.”
“I thought you finished already?”
Rabbit frowned. “Not quite,” he briefly paused and resumed his reading. “I further leave the vast stocks of cheese buried beneath my mansion at 32 Beechwood Age Drive, Hammersmith, Vermont, to Worker 342212A … what the hell?”
Mr. Fox squinted at the parchment. “Wow – the will is writing itself!”
“Hmmm…. No, I suspect it is wee ant 342212A who is amending this essential document to improve her material well being.”
“I wonder why she wants the cheese.”
“Why would she want cheese? I thought mice liked cheese.”
“Mice do like cheese. That does not mean ants don’t like cheese.”
“Maybe the queen wants the cheese?”
“The will does not bequeath the cheese to the queen. It specifically states ‘Worker 342212A.”
“Hmm. So it does. Did you know Benny had a mansion in Vermont?”
“With vast stocks of cheese?”
“Yes.”
“I did not know that.”
“Cheese is perishable.”
“Perishable.”
“Road trip?”
“Road trip!”
posted by Balázsy András at 5:57 PM
2 Comments:
If I don't understand, it doesn't necessarily imply anything bad about me, right?
"Lord Flasheart of all Ladies?" Very nice.
The other day I found out that Benny also runs a magic shop out of his house. His house is right off the highway I drive to get from my house to Super Mega Bookstore in the next city.
There was a small, neatly lettered sign above his mailbox that read "Benny's Magic Store." I don't know for certain, but I'm assuming it's the same guy. After all, how many magicians named Benny could there be around here?
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