You met Bunny at the annual neighborhood egg hunt. As usual, the day starts wholesomely, with fun breakfast foods and coffee scattered about.. By 2 p.m., it’s close to being adults only, and the coolers begin to crack open with the goods. You opted to bring a new, fun, local IPA with a very high ABV. Note mistake number one. By five PM, you were feeling pretty good. Your third, ten percent beer, was going down smoothly. By Five-Thirty, you were ready to flirt. This is when Bunny showed up. The sun was at a flattering point in the sky. You noticed her because she was wearing a bunny suit. You caught her attention and smiled. This was mistake number two. Meet Bunny, The Easter Stalker.
Her eyes opened as wide as possible as your hands intertwined for a shake. You thought it was adorable at the time. “I’m Bunny. What’s your name? Do you live in the neighborhood?” You answered both. “Ah, Bunny, very funny! I do live in the neighborhood, way out, just on the border. Also, I’m Jack. ” Her pupils dilated, while having found out this much information at once. No one told you to look out for The Easter Stalker. No one said anything about a woman whose actual name is Bunny, and how every year, on this day, she wears this same bunny costume all week long leading up to the block party. A woman with no real friends and a knack for calling everyone out on the Facebook neighborhood watch page when they did something “against the Great Gardens rules.” A real gem. Nope, not a peep from anyone.
However, Bunny never lets you see it all at once. But, it certainly doesn’t take too long. Consequently, you had no idea. You like to live somewhat off the social grid. No FB, Snapchat, TikTok, or even the gram. You’re above it all, Jack. At least you liked that quality about yourself before. Before Bunny came into your life. You finished your 12-pack that night. You didn’t even notice that Bunny doesn’t drink. She came home with you, though; it didn’t take much. After jumping, or hopping, rather, to the opportunity to bang your brains out. She was as happy as her clam after giving her a drunken, sloppy pounding. She did all the trix! After fucking like rabbits you passed out, having no idea where you were or really at all, who you were dealing with.
Waking up, everything was as fuzzy as her costume the night before. Accordingly, you woke up very parched and managed to roll out of this pink bed to the bathroom nearby for a splash of water on your face. Walking back, you managed to get your clothes quickly so you could Irish exit. You began your journey through Bunny’s house. Everything was in pastel. Every photo was rabbit, egg, or candy related. Another one of her bent over with a little tail. I mean, you do love your Fat Bottomed Girls. Just before you were about to leave the house, you looked up and saw it. “Official name change document. Mellisa Renee Anderson to Bunny Sanders.” “What the fuck?” She changed her name? Does she also like Bernie, though? What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself. And then…”WHERE ARE YOU GOING, JACK?” ***Evil Grin***
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