It’s a long story but I’ll try to make it brief. Despite
being secretive about my travel plans, C.W. got wind and followed me to
Cincinnati. Before I had noticed, he had assumed a form familiar to my hosts
and charmed the lady of the house, whom we shall call St. Rose.
“She’s much nicer than Mrs. Big Dope,” he said. “We’re
already good friends.”
“That’s only because,” I said, “you have assumed the form of
a friend of hers.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “She’s nice to me.”
“You’ll think ‘nice,’ if you cross her,” I said. “Ask her
husband.”
“Oh no,” he said. “She trusts me.”
“To do what?”
“Oh,” he said, “she’s having all of her children and grandchildren
and their cousins over for Easter celebration and she asked me to be the child’s
image of a young rabbit for the day of Easter.”
“You mean she asked you to be the Easter Bunny?”
“That’s exactly what I said.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “But does she know how unreliable you
are?”
“I’m not unreliable,” he said. “I just enjoy a paradigm of spontaneity.”
“You got that right.” I said. “Good luck.”
“Who needs luck when one has friends like mine?” He said.
“Aaah,” I said.
I went about my own business, practicing my Photoshop and
such. Things were quiet for an hour or so. Then I heard a glass crash and the
sound of scurrying at the top of the stairs. A female voice cried out, “Are you
kidding me?”
Then I heard C.W. say, “What?
 |
| When she said, "Be the Bunny, I thought she said to be funny. It was a simple mistake. - C.W |
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I’m counting to three,” she said, “and you had better be
gone by then.”
“Who’ll hide the eggs?” he said.
“I’ll hide you,” she said. “Out.”
By this time, I was curious and walked around the corner. I
would tell you what I saw, but, like the boy who fell into the tub of molasses,
I don’t think my tongue would be equal to the task.
Also check out www.wattensawpress.com and
www.allhatnocattle.com
And buy Big Dope's book It's really quite good.
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