A Cute and Fuzzy Death

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

A Cute and Fuzzy Death

By Plot Roach

“Oh, how cute.” Melissa said, reaching out to pet the little black rabbit which immediately took cover under the plastic igloo in the cage.

“Don’t move so fast.” Jared said. “They spook easily and it will never come out again.”

The manager of the pet store looked over and made a quick assessment of the two people who had just entered the store, making a beeline for the section he called the ‘cute and fuzzys’. It was just past spring, the beginning of summer and people had the urge to hold something fluffy and cuddly, buying whatever creature fit their mood at the time, and quickly losing interest when their ‘pet’ became a ‘responsibility’.

He rolled his eyes and wandered over, hoping to dissuade them from such a thoughtless purchase, even though it might cost the store a sale.

“May I help you?” he asked, a bit more somber than the occasion called for.

“Oh, no. We’re just looking.” Melissa said, still eyeing the plastic dome that held the minute black rabbit.

“What she means to say, is that we’re looking to pick up a new pet today.”

“What will it be replacing?” the manager asked.

“We’re no good with fish, the gerbil managed to Houdini his way out of his cage (and we never saw him again), and-”

“Plants are too boring.” finished Melissa.

Let me get this right, the manager thought. You’re no good with things that can’t escape and you probably have a mummified rodent behind your couch? And now you’re looking to torture another innocent life? But what he managed to say was, “I see. Maybe something beautiful but sedate. Like a snake or a turtle?”

“Oh, ick!” said Melissa. “I want something warm and fuzzy, not something slimy.”

“Actually, snakes and turtles aren’t ‘slimy’, it’s a misconception.”

“Hey, whatever.” said Jared. “We just want something we can cuddle with, but isn’t too much trouble to keep.”

Maybe a hooker? The manager thought, not daring to open his mouth until he had taken a few deep breaths and was sure that he would not mistakenly tell them what he really thought of them. “You could start out with mice, or a nice rat. Then when you get the hang of it, work your way up to a guinea pig.”

“Rodents, ick!” Melissa squealed. “I hate vermin.”

And just what do you think that you are? The manager thought to himself. “Well… What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I like this rabbit, but he keeps hiding from me.”

I can’t imagine why, the manager thought. “Let me collect him for you.” He overturned the plastic igloo and scooped the bunny up into his arms. The poor thing shook and tried to hide in the crook of his arm. I would hide too, if I was sentenced to live (and most assuredly die) with these two.

“Bunny!” Melissa squealed, and the rabbit nearly jumped from the manager’s hands to the floor in order to escape her clutches. Reluctantly the store manager passed the creature over, watching the woman’s red painted fingernails sink like talons into the poor beast.

“Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!” she began to sing, pressing the rabbit up to her face to feel its soft fur against her cheek.

“Why is it the only one in the cage?” Jared asked.

The manager lifted an eyebrow and made one last effort to save the poor creature, thinking fast. “That’s because it’s black, instead of one of the other colors. It’s not a popular choice. In fact, we got it by mistake and were stuck with it. It’s been here a while, so it’s older than most of our other furry residents. Which means it will not have as long of a life with you as you might like.”

“Because it’s black?” Melissa asked.

“Like a black cat, it’s bad luck or something like that?” Jared asked.

Well, at least I can give them a show, the manager thought. “Yes, they are believed to be bad luck. In fact, some believe that to bring a black rabbit into your home -even a dead one, is to invite death to carry away a loved one.”

“It brings death into your house?” Melissa asked, pulling the fuzzy creature away from her face and holding it at an arm’s length.

“Cool, I’ll buy it.” Jared said.

“Did you not here what I said?” asked the manager. “To take it into your home is to invite death in.”

“Yeah, I heard what you said.” Jared said, smiling. “And I want to buy it as a gift for my grandma. She’s old and sick anyway. But I can’t get my inheritance from her until she dies. So maybe Mr. Bunny will make her feel all warm and happy before, well, she kicks the bucket.”

“And then what will you do with the creature?” the manager demanded.

“Well… I have a grandma too.” Melissa ventured.

The manager rolled his eyes, obviously defeated in his effort to save the rabbit. He took it to the front counter where he placed it into a carrier box and handed it over to Melissa. “That will be twenty seven fifty for the fuzzy black assassin, please.”