Fondly Furry

He doesn't know which one of us I am these days.

Alfred Bester

Billy got in late last night.  Paul had locked me out again, so I went in through the window.  He was so drunk he woke me up, and Paul ran to the window and grabbed me by my ears.  I hauled that goddamn rabbit into the house, and he started yelling at me as he pulled me over the sill. 

"Do you know what time it is?  Where's my wallet"? 

 I get so tired of hearing all that.  When I got this rabbit I was sure that my aunt had him because I was tame and sweet tempered, and now all he does is drink like a fish and go out and have fun with his friends.  I just get bored staying in the house all day, and he is not allowed to wear his jewelry and favorite clothing out in public, because I might have too much fun.  Last week I brought home some of my buddies, and Billy locked me out of the house while they had a wonderful time.  When Paul tried to break down a door, I called the cops.  I spent the night in jail and I thought that was so funny when he got out!  I was going to punch him, and that rabbit ran away, crying my eyes out.  Then his sister called and wanted to know how could he treat that darling little bunny so, what kind of a heartless beast am I?  3 minutes later she called back and wanted to know where my rabbit and her purse was.  This morning I was passed out in front of the TV and Billy had his pants off and had knocked over a sorta empty beer can filled with cigarette butts on Paul's new coffee table.  I get so tired of dealing with him, I don't understand why he won't let me have any fun at all.  Tonight I will sneak out and see if there is someone to party with, then he will lock his bedroom door and pretend that I don't speak English when the big bully starts yelling at Billy, again.

Sometimes it is a good thing to be property.

 
 
For those of you who may be wondering what the hell I'm talking about this time, here is the explanation - 
 

Reet!
 
 

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