JULIUS: Mom! Grammy! Look what Typhus gave me.
ME: A rat?
TYPHUS: It’s not just any rat. It’s the Easter Rat.
GRAMMY: Don’t you mean Easter Bunny?
TYPHUS: No. The Easter Bunny’s dead. The rat killed him.
GRAMMY: Oh, Lord.
TYPHUS: It’s true. My Mom told me. That’s why I stopped getting Easter baskets when I was six. The Easter Rat ate the Easter Bunny.
GRAMMY: Yeah? So who’s delivering Easter baskets now?
JULIUS: Nobody. That’s why I never got one.
ME: Julius, you never got a basket because . . .
GRAMMY: Because Typhus is right. The rat ate the bunny. Now why the hell do you want to keep a killer rat?
JULIUS: Someone has to. Or else he might go out and kill other bunnies.
TYPHUS: Yeah. It’s like rat jail, Grammy.
JULIUS: Come on, Typhus. Let’s go out and play with him.
GRAMMY: Well, that was one hell of a story, huh? It explained why the boy doesn’t get a basket, and makes him feel important, too. He’s saving bunnies from a killer rat.
ME: I don’t believe you. Or Typhus.
GRAMMY: Yeah, well, Julius did. That Typhus is going to make a great politician some day.
Photo: Renat Martov
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1 comment:
I just want to know why the rat is stickin' its tail up its nose.... IS that its tail?
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