Meat rabbits

“So, what do you do for living?”

“I raise meat rabbits.”

“Is… is that something as creepy as it sounds like?”

“Nah, I use halogens. No guttering candles for me; that’s Halloween shit.”

“Right, Night of the Lepus, ha ha ha.”

“And I have my own plot of land. Here’s a tip: anybody that creeps over to the churchyard is likely to be unhygienic as fuck. Don’t buy from them.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Raising meat rabbits.”

“I’m not sure I’m sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh right, you’re thinking I mean ‘rabbits’ when I say ‘rabbits’, right? Right, oh yeah, I told people it’s too cutesy-poo, too ‘sea kitten’, and will cause confusion down the road and here we are. Confusion.”

“Wait. Churchyard… candles… no actual rabbits… you’re a grave robber?”

“The technical term is tomb raider, but I ain’t one. That’s not what I do. I don’t care what people are buried with, and besides the answer usually is ‘jack shit’. And I’ve never opened a single coffin so how should I know?”

“Wait, uh, rabbits?”

“Like I said, cutesy-poo. They’re nothing like rabbits, except the same size more or less — well, some are big, some are damn huge, but so are some rabbits. The first thing is to put a grille in front of the halogen because they can leap and they’re a… a lady dog situation in the dark if they break the light.”

“I’m getting a headache.”

“Oh. Have a pill.”

“What’s this?”

“Meat rabbit extract.”

“Thank you, but no thank you.”

“It’s hygienic and organic, mind you. Nothing of the ‘a pound of tomb dust!’ or the ‘a little PVC for kicks!’, I don’t do that.”

“PVC? Do you mean PCP?”

“Either, actually. Or both. A lot of people in my line of work are irresponsible scum, but I rely on the main ingredient, 85% pure, with a bite of lemon. But like I said, I have my own plot, and I use deer carcasses most of the time. You still got to kit and sew them, but at least it’s legal; no awkward questions at the Farmers Market!”

“Wait. Wait. S—sew?”

“Well, when’s the last time you saw a man with antlers and hooves? The bone structure’s pretty much okay, but there’s a lot of shaving and folding and slipping, and then you take catgut — not from a cat, obviously, that would be gross — and sew it into a position, put it in the box, slip it into the ground, and wait for the, sigh, the rabbits to come.”

“I… I… with every sentence it seems more obvious to me that I have never heard about whatever it is that you do.”

“Well, that’s the problem. And when we try to raise our profile, we do something damnfool stupid like calling them ‘meat rabbits’ and here we are, all confused. If it was my decision, I’d rather call it graveflesh like in old days and deal with those problems.”

“G–g—”

“Graveflesh.”

“Graveflesh?”

“Yeah, the most obvious problem is that people think, yuck, graveflesh is dead people. That’s a myth. And a lie propagated by the cow industry, too; as if cowflesh doesn’t look like people too.”

“I—”

“Never thought about that, did you? How do you know where your hamburger comes from? Could be some Greenpeace type went into the factory and never came out. Conk ’em on the head and stuff ’em into the grinder; people that deal with cows all day long build up a lot of anger.”

“Th—that doesn’t happen!”

“Oh, were you there to see it didn’t? Why do you think vegetarians look so harried? I’d look harried too if the meat driver smacked his lips every time he passed me. They’re… they’re cows led by wolves. Real predatory bastards. Graveflesh is better; you’re actually half farming with it, I’ve hooked many vegetarians with the argument that graveflesh is practically half a vegetable, and basically the ultimate sustainable, recycled, circle-of-life foodstuff there is, it’s beautiful how it ties everything together. Ah Gawd, you got me crying now, it’s so beautiful.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t speak; eat.”

*

So I am reading a genuine raising-meat-rabbits AMA over on Reddit, and this idea comes up and bam! A blog post.

*

“So, raising the dead?”

“No, just raising meat rabbits for dinner. Hand me the pentagram, would you?”

“Here you go, honey.”

“In nomine Lepus, arrivere! In nomine Bunnicula, ascendio! In nomine domine Inferno incarne — come not in that form! Come not in that form! Come not—”

“HEEEEEE—RE’S FLUFFY! RED EYES, WHITE FUR, GARAGE SIZE! CUTE, ARTICULATE AND HOMICIDALLY INSANE! HA HA HA! PET ME OR DIE, HUMAN SCUM!”

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