Let me guess. You’re making a Bundt cake.
Harebrained submission, Emily B.
Mabel is – how should we say? – eccentric. Has been, ever since those red-tailed monkeys accidentally clocked her with that Frisbee they whittled out of that Acacia bark. She wasn’t seriously hurt, thankfully, but the hit definitely rattled something. Like, it’s especially odd when she licks our horns and says, “Well, that’s the best darned drumstick I’ve ever had!”
Mabel is as Mabel does, Mari P.
You’re ashamed to be seen with me. You’re ashamed to go out with me. You’re ashamed your rich friends won’t approve of me! Well, at least I’m not a sell-out who allows ridiculous people to wear my image on their ties and belts while attending clambakes in Nantucket! You’re all, “Hi, I’m the Labassador of Americana!” And then you forget what you said because you’re too busy chasing a Kennebunkport squirrel wearing loafers! But you’re right, I should be embarrassed about my camouflage.
Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to wait here for Duckie to pick me up.
He didn’t become part of “the breakfast club” did he, Brian B.?
Oh my, what an – gulp – adorable bunny. Well, um, yes, I guess he does look like Clark Gable…though that’s not the first name that comes to mind. Say, is he, a, um…nice…rabbit?
Keep an eye on that one, Chelsea T.
I get it. You think it’s adorable to take pictures of me doing silly things. And because you consistently provide adequate food and water, I humor you. To a point. But tread lightly owner, because let’s not forget who’s boss here. Need I mention the term “feral” to you…?
Godspeed, Holly E.
Perhaps looking somewhat thuggish, they still seemed gentlemanly enough, so when Clarice Starling spotted them on her way to work, she didn’t think twice about it.
As she passed them, she gave them a shy smile. And when she received a smirk in return, she realized the worst: They were mockingbirds. Roosting over a construction site.
“Hey, chick! Nice flanks – they could kind of use some work, dontcha think? And what kind of flight feathers are those? You know, in some human worlds, they’d call your tarsus a cankle! Anyone ever tell you your rump is bigger than a toucan’s mandible?”
Eating crow is hard to swallow, B.J. P.
It was always The Bunny’s plan. They’re not sure how he did it, but there are rumors involving test tubes, birthday wishes, cryonics, dark magic, and a complicated system of levers and pulleys.
Behold, the bunny born from equal parts of John Lennon, Groucho Marx, and Albert Einstein!
It’s all relative, Amy S.
It was the house that buns built. They called it Hoppy Times Plantation, and what a misnomer that was. Don’t be fooled. You are not welcome here.
It was built on disapproval, Tuesday H.
When you start saying “Must…snorgle…nosicles!” or when you reach for my nose and inexplicably exclaim “Beep!” and then look around and say, “Shifty eyes” to no one else in the room, I get concerned that maybe I’m not hearing things so well.
And I can only assume that’s because you haven’t trimmed my ear hair.
Beep! Beep! Harumph, Kate Elizabeth Q.
Really? You’re just going to stand there on the other side of the glass and take pictures? I’m just waiting for the day when the only thing that separates us is your mask. If I were you – and I’m glad that I’m not – I’d learn how to wield that snorkel like a sword, capesh?
Photo courtesy of Timm Schamberger/AFP/Getty Images