Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

The Blue Bearded Bunny

Polly, the ostrich picker, was a sound old fellow with razor sharp knickers and a mouth to match. He was a fool of all fools, so foolish that no fool could fool him. Polly strutted up, down, around, and across all over Pin Tip Mountain boasting, “I am the sharpest picker any picker could see!” And off he rolled through the bushes and trees—right into the lair of one ferocious, lopsided, and kooky Bunny. Now this was no ordinary prince of carrot thieves. He was tall, broad, and blue. His whiskers glimmered a street-walking silver on some occasions and his beard caught the attention of almost any passerby. Polly came across Bunny’s town house right at suppertime—expecting to be served. “I am the sharpest picker any picker could see!” Polly roared. “Ha!” replied Bunny, “but to me, you are mere wastefulness. Now get gone before I slander you into purple Mardi Gras beads.” Polly was a bit startled, but fearless nonetheless. He coyly tipped his feather-bound hat, bowed, and showed himself to the door. But it wasn’t long before Bunny noticed something squirming it’s way through the back door. “I thought I told you to get gone!” screamed the poised blue Bunny. Suddenly, with a quick stomp-dee-doo, Bunny’s perfectly piled steam of stew came plowing down off the counter and collapsed on the wooden floor with a great ‘THUD!’ “Look what you’ve done!” Bunny once again yelled. Polly looked up, out of the burning stew, and replied with a mischievous grin, “Ain’t nobody ever tell you—pickers pick to poke, and Blue Beard—picking just ain’t no ostrich without a stew to pitch!” Bunny was so fumed he picked up the tree bark phone and connected it directly to the Pond Lake P.D. “Hello! This is Bunny Ruffpaws. I’ve got a snarling, pickle-footed burglar. What has he done? Well, I’ll put it to ya this way. I’ve been ostracized!” Just then the phone hit the floor with a ‘plunk’, as Bunny was thrown onto the shoulders of a much to do fellow with curly brown hair, and a bite to die for. We’ll call him Wally, for name’s sake. Wally marched through the woods, strolling left to right and squealed, “ I am the hippest hopper anyone ever hoped for—and I’m looking for a real bad picker. We’ve got a bunny missing!” And so the two went on, star lipped and pokey toed—a pair only a picker, a bunny, a hopper, and soon to be a copper could understand. Sometimes the best of friends come from a little pokin’ around.


Related Items


The following comments are for "The Blue Bearded Bunny"
by wishmeawayx

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.