Governmint Educational Film

Yea I have been enlightened. And you (the reader) will also be enlightened as you watch this film. You may be tested on this!

Wayward Bunny Tales Chapter 6 Epilogue

Undisclosed Location in the Austrailian Outback near the Woomera Prohibited Area (State College plus five months): Floppy raves and rants, "you no longer have a cell phone, stop looking for it in your pocket! It's part of your past, it's gone!"

Floppy angrily tosses a few more half dry branches in the fire and places three pots of water on to boil.

Floppy's murderous gleam relates the seriousness of paying attention to his deranged logic as he starts into the parable. "Pay attention!!!! In these pots I'm putting three items. In the first pot we put a wild carrot, and no it's not because I'm a freakin bunny! I don't like carrots! In this second pot I'm putting a goanna egg. Lastly in the fnal pot I'm putting in some coffee grounds."

"Now take another hit of Kumyss, and look at the finished products in each pot."

Looking down at the contents of each pot a bit disgusted, especially at the overboiled lizard egg. Training in the way of the Bunny has been a weary experience with possible misgivings at times. It has been five long months since I have become the disciple in the path of the wayward Bunny. The effectiveness of the Bunny touch of death cannot be doubted as thousands search for the former mideast tyrant that is now a mouldering corpse ( See Chapter 4: The Last Known Whereabouts of Floppy the Angel, Floppy the Demon ) in a lava tube cave on Easter Island. Floppy's weakness for the fine flavor of fermented Yak's milk liquor was the main driver of this evil tyrant's demise.

Another gulp of the fiery liquid assists in the attempt to understand the mutated giant bunny's brain.

"Now, what does this training mean to you! Look at the pots. Will this experience soften and weaken you like that pathetic carrot, giving up and going back to that ridiculous cold state in failure! Or will become hardened like that disgusting, which by the way is your supper, goanna egg? OR like the coffee grounds in this final pot will you evolve into something different and possibly better than what the original ingredients was?"

Answering I will become the hard egg, Floppy loses his temper and cracks his rattan walking stick on the back of my skull. Taking the hint on what Floppy expects I revise my answer on evolving like the coffee flavored water. Floppy still looks a bit pissed, but then again he is Floppy and that's his nature. Attempting to shut out the flashing stars from the acute effects of the rattan stick and the mild alcohol poisoning of too many sips of Kumyss, adjust the mosquito netting over the surplus tent and prepare for another day of enlightenment in the path of the Wayward Bunny. Dreams of dolphins with Post slide rules, sticky buns that become faces, and the infamous Texas Tavern Happy Hour engage my sleeping hours before the next leg of the trek begins.

"What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is."

-former Vice President Dan Quale

Wayward Bunny Tales Chapter 5: Genesis Team Floppy

Officer Lopez: Attention! Attention! Ladies and gentlemen, attention! There is a herd of killer rabbits headed this way and we desperately need your help!........ Class B Movie "Night of the Lepus (1972)"

STATE COLLEGE, PENNSYLVANIA, LATE SPRING 2009: Almost 30 years have passed since the visions in the sticky bun of Floppy the Bunny. The Phyrst has not changed much although the peanut shells have disappeared from every crevice in the timeless bar. At 02:05 not many are left in the bar and only a few have survived from the ravages of Saint Patricks Day that attempt the walk up the stairs without at least one trip.

One last look at the adjoining pool room knowing this is the last State College trip for quite some time! Maybe the last time forever of pounding down Yuenglings at this infamous facility. The mass of old plastic hats and foam leprachaun ears litters the sticky floor.

Floppy hasn't changed very much since the Texas Tavern in Sydney. Even the ripped out sections of his dirty matted ears seems about the same. With an almost toothless grin he lifts an unopened Yuengling off the pool table and tosses it over. Seems like starting one more round while the mass of happy landers is being herded up the steps is a bit chancy, but Floppy never was much for schedules! Old Flop has put on a few pounds in the midriff and what fur remains is turning a putrid shade of grey, but that old charasma still seems to work to keep the bouncers at bay till the last Yuengling round is tossed down.

Floppy nods to the steps tossing a grubby gold coin on the bar. The next adventure is just beginning!

"Time to kick ass, Mr Floppy?"

Tall, deranged, and ragged nods in the affirmative.

"The future will be better tomorrow."

-Dan Quayle

(THE CONCLUSION OF STORY AS RELATED TO THE VAPOR BY ONE OF HIS HUMAN MINIONS)

Wayward Bunny Tales Chapter 4: Floppy the Angel, Floppy the Demon!

Bullwinkle: Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.

Rocky: Again?

Bullwinkle: Presto!

Lion: ROAR!!!

Bullwinkle: Oops, wrong hat.

EARLY SPRING 2009 Easter Island unmarked cavern complex...

The cavern complex of volcanic gas tubes had been discreetly ventilated to provide adequate oxygen to the deposed Middle Eastern ruler and several of his loyal Special Forces followers. The smells of the recent supper of baked chicken, sweet potatoes, and corn wrapped in banana leaves, still permeated the dimly lit cave facing the valley of King Hotu Matua. The tunnels led to various chambers of the first cannibal long ear tribes prior to the erection of the famous stone giants on the island.

The deposed ruler reminisces about his former life as he pulls one of the remaining bottles of aged fermented Yaks milk (kumyss) from the desert camo ALICE pack. The scent of strong alcohol adds to the odd mixture of odors in the cave. In particular, this former tribal storage chamber is dark even with the portable light systems along the curved ceiling of the cave. The deposed ruler continues to think of his return while stroking his long beard. His infamous actions making him the object of billions of dollars in a world-wide hunt for his head.

The odd feeling of something not quite right suddenly sharpens his awareness of the current surroundings. The first thoughts of the final conflict with opposition military special forces is rudely changed as he looks into the obscure side chamber not noticed while he sat and ruminated on the floor of the cave. The dirty matted face looks like an obscene caricature of that American cartoon creature (was that Bugs Bunny or was that Crusader Rabbit?) about a foot from his face. The scarred fur and ripped overlarge ears shows the elements of the wild brawling life not uncommon with some of the career soldiers he commanded not so long ago. The ruler has the confidence in his ability to convert this odd creature to be his ally and loyal foot soldier. His evil charisma has done this to many in the past...but not this time!

This was his last thought before the dirty paws gripped his head like an steel vice and snapped his neck, thus ending the chapter of the once revered and then reviled Middle East leader. Floppy enters the cave proper and stretches. At this point Floppy could have become a heroic icon of most of the world for this deed, but his motives was just for the kumyss. His nose twitching he takes a long pull from the aged fermented Yaks milk. Floppy completes the remaining short work on the remaining sleepers and the lone guard. Once again, Floppy contemplates the Australia debacle and considers his future as he stands at the entrance of the cave. Looking at the starry sky, Floppy packs the remaining alcohol bottles, various currency, and (obvious to Floppy the rebel) the fake identification documents. The decision to stowaway on the next cargo ship to Chile and enter the civilized world is made!

Wayward Bunny Tales Chapter 2: The continued flashback on the rise of the mutant rabbits

"There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened."

- Douglas Adams




It is a well known scientific fact that I heard on Internet that the Australian dolphins are the most intelligent of their species. In fact, the more militant dolphins have a website entitled "Tuna Free Dolphin Meat". The technical difficulties of writing/editing web pages, as well as handling electric devices in an aqueous environment appears to be a closely guarded secret. This website and the few remaining dolphins of reference have scattered due to political pressure in the late 90s. However, recently declassified documents document the true story of the radical Australian bunny movement and the chronology of events leading to the treaty of 1976. This does not seem to tie in to the first chapter of my notes. However, read on if you dare! Copied from the files of "Tuna Free Dolphin Meat" site.


Easter is a relatively new concept, a product of the great Australian
rabbit plagues of the 1940's when wabbits wan wampant across the
countryside, destroying cities, bonking anything in their path and
conducting smash and grab raids on vegetable wholesalers. To combat this
growing problem, the Government of Australia sent in a specially trained
army division which was obliterated in the 'Battle for Bunny Crossing'
in the spring of 1947.

Desperate, the Australians called on their friends the British who, more
than eager to help, dropped an atomic bomb at Maralinga just before
Christmas. Millions of rabbits were killed, and so was anything else
near the blast. The surviving rabbits were forced deep underground where they
copulated furiously and plotted their revenge. Well aware of this, the
Government needed something even more extraordinary than a gift from the
British to rid the country of this fast breeding, now dangerously
mutant menace. But it wasn't until the summer of 1950 that an answer to
the problem was found.

The CSIRO had had considerable success combating flaura and fauna
problems by introducing predator species from overseas. These included
the domestic cat (to hasten the extinction of native species), the Cane
Toad (to help combat outbreaks of sugar cane), the cabbage-eating moth
(cabbages were responsible for 427 suspected deaths in 1939), the sheep
(to combat a shortage of sexual partners in early outback Australia),
the locust (to combat the profits of greedy farmers) and Godzilla (a
mythical monster with a soft spot for the meat of Japanese tourists).

After several decades of intensive study and wage increases, scientists
at the CSIRO decided to release a disease it hoped would wipe out the
remaining rabbits. This disease was myxomatosis, which was carried
under the armpit by small tics who liked nothing better than to spend
their days climbing in and out of rabbits ears. But myxomatosis didn't
actually kill the rabbits itself, it merely gave the females a splitting
headache and so curbed their voracious sexual appetites, which led to
the saying "not tonight dear, I've got a headache."

This was a very frustrating time, especially for the male rabbits who
soon developed severe anxieties and acute mental complexes. In fact they
became downright angry, which led to the condition 'Hot-cross Bunnies'
which, over the years, has been shortened to hot-cross buns by deranged
linguists who like nothing better than destroying language. Naturally
enough, money-minded bakers, cashing in on the enormous publicity, named
some of their wares after this condition. Today it is still a popular
custom for Australians to eat hot-cross buns after their sexual advances
have been turned down.

Realising their quest for world domination had been well and truly
thwarted, the rabbits were forced to sue for peace in the summer of
1976. As a condition of this complex treaty, the tics carrying the
myxomatosis disease were offered attractive separation packages, the
CSIRO scientists received increased funding, and the rabbits were issued
with a lifetime supply of condoms, which they promised to use.

There is another, more tragic element to this story however, which
involves Floppy, a deranged and extremely frustrated rabbit who, unable
to control his urge bonked everything that moved, producing several new
and interesting species of creature, the skeletal remains of which are
kept in a secret vault in an unnamed museum. For his crimes, Floppy was
chastised, spat on, betrayed, blamed for everything wrong in the rabbit
world and nailed to a stake. Floppy became a martyr for the rabbit
cause, and led a fundamentalist splinter group from Australia in 1982 to
make its new home on Easter island.

(c) Tuna Free Dolphin Meat
http://www.tunafree.com.au (occasionally)
reprinted by permission

The key here is the rise of Floppy. But first an informational point for your consideration:

Note: The dolphin related story has possibly minimized the severity of myxomatosis that is a caused by a myxoma virus that is in the same pox family ("Germs: Biological Weapons and America's Secret War"; Miller, Engelberg, and Broad; Simon & Schuster; 2001) as the infamous smallpox virus. Sources show that the use of myxoma for the bunny control had an estimated mortality of over 90%. While the exact number of rabbits killed was unknown the population was decimated. This also showed high fatality when introduced for pest control in England. It is possible that the dolphins relate the story on the numerous (but limited) population of mutated bunnies that were resistant to this fatal virus.



Chapter 3: Floppy the Evil One with a Clarification on the Easter Bunny Clones
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Tuesday, April 28, 2009 at 10:37am | Edit Note | Delete
"That's right, Mr. Martini. There is an Easter Bunny."

-character McMurphy, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)


NOTE: The continued adventures of Floppy the bunny should not be confused with other characters that might appear similar and possibly just as dangerous. Floppy may have some resemblance to the resurrection (a necessity due to an over reaction by Homeland Security) of the Easter Bunny, particularly during the earlier genetic bunny versions. However, the following excerpt from this incident should provide the benefit of reading the full story.



"The Office of Homeland Security was already breathing down our necks, it being Thursday, three days till Easter. If we didn't have a new Bunny for the U.S. government by good old Colored-Egg Day, someone was going to have to confess to shooting the Easter Bunny down for violating restricted airspace. And nobody wanted to fess up to that one. How did you explain to children all across the country that their government had blown a fuzzy bunny out of the air while he was super-sonic hopping over a missile silo? Kids, your government is so paranoid it isn't even funny, and now there will be no Easter egg hunts."

-reprinted by permission

Resurrection

Story copyright Kenneth Brady, published by the Fortean Bureau

http://www.forteanbureau.com

Now that this possibly identity confusion is clarfied, the character of Floppy can be further explored without further diversions.

"There's something screwy around here"

-Elmer Fudd

Some might consider this story at an end. Those would be wrong! The name of Floppy has been used historically for the more cute bunnies. However, the disreputable true "Floppy the martyr" has been shunned by the mainstream rabbit appreciation groups world wide. Rumors are not encouraged and the true nature of the Floppy name is only spoken in very brief terse words when necessary, and only to educate those on the dangers of this all too real mutant lepus!

Some strongly believe that Floppy will again rise from the isolation of the abandoned sub-surface temple on Easter Island. Most believe that the mangy rabbit has become deranged to the point that his unexplained charismatic nature has permanently disappeared. There are a secretive small dedicated group that take a more cautious approach and will not relax their vigilance against another Floppy insurrection or those unmentionable groups that revere the rise of the mutant rabbit again on the civilized world.

The final chapters will document the last known adventures of Floppy and his contribution to world peace in the search of money and fermented Yaks milk.

Wayward Bunny Tales Chapter One: The initial flashback of mutant rabbits and more

PLEASE allow me relate a story of flashbacks and rabbit wars.

Penn State, late 70s. It was a dark and cold walk from the Phyrst saloon in State College shaking off the effects of a few more imported ales than accustomed too. Watching the butter melt, the Diner lights mysteriously dim and the drips congeal into what looks like two ratty long ears! THIS moment with the hot sticky bun at the State College Diner created a flashback to 1969. The subsequent events are true to life.

It happened during a brief vacation from Bien Hoa; while sitting on a stool at the Texas Tavern in Sydney, Australia during Happy Hour (which really lasts for several hours). The larger than average rabbit with the dirty, matted fur, and apparently chewed up ears sits down beside me after several futile attempts at not sliding off the polished wood seats. After offering the disheveled bunny a drink (which was no big deal, since all the drinks was free over there during happy hours),the odd creature relates a strange tale of intelligent dolphins (always armed with a modified POST slide rule under their flipper), and the recent battles of a strange mutant rabbit revolution.

Writing this off as the expected drunk bragging from a giant mutant bunny from the Outback, little additional thought was given. I recall his mumbling something about the apparition in the breakfast pastry, or something, while departing for drunken (the hippies, the horses, and the predominantly DOD customers) horse back riding with enterprising hippies from a Bourke Street commune. The odd bunny was forgotten until the sticky (hot) bun with the melting butter some years later.

The years continue to pass, and for some odd reason, the link for the "Tuna Free Dolphin Meat" website pops up during a Google search. Well Damn! (I think to myself) This sounds like the warped philosophical humor of some ultra right wing , drift-net loving, scum sucker poking fun at us "true" environmentalists! Preparing to do cyber battle with this perceived vile (and likely GOP) organization, little did I know, while mashing the mouse key on the hyperlink, that this would lead to the highly intelligent and computer literate dolphins of Australia! Continued sporadic communication related the stories of other (although land locked) species. The seemingly unrelated links (not hyper) between the Sydney Happy Hour bunny (remember this), the butter sopped State College Sticky Buns, and the technologically proficient dolphins (that document everything) stood out with clarity. Communications continued with the radical Dolphin group and seemingly unrelated events congealed like the butter on that sticky bun. This continues in the next chapter.