Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #340

Peggy: “I’m so bored holding this position while they adjust the lighting.”

Bunny: “Well, I must say that I shouldn’t be bored, considering what’s right in front of me. But since I’m apparently missing one of my eyes, my depth perception is a bit off. Are you stacked or not?”

Peggy: “Really, Bunny! That’s inappropriate language to be coming from a prop.”

Bunny: “Sorry, doll. I don’t get out much. They keep me locked up in storage until somebody decides to make an Easter movie or some urchin in a war film needs something to clutch while they wait for daddy to come home on leave. Are you wearing terrycloth? Terrycloth really excites me.”

Peggy: “What in the world? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Bunny: “Terrycloth is soft like me. I think this means that we were meant to be together. At least for tonight.”

Peggy: “I think you need to make other arrangements on how you plan to spend your evening. I’m a married woman, after all.”

Bunny: “Married, eh? So that means the sex is pretty redundant by now. Are you sure you don’t want to do the bunny hop a time or two?”

Peggy: “Okay, this has gone far enough. Either you shut your mouth or I’m going to ask the prop master if he’s got a beach towel I can use instead.”

Bunny: “Oh, you don’t wanna hang around with the beach towel. He’s got the clap.”

Peggy: “You have got to be the rudest bunny I have ever-”

Photographer: “Is there a problem, Peggy? Who are you talking to?”

Peggy: “Oh… I was just… rehearsing my lines for an audition this afternoon.”

Photographer: “I see. Well, we should be ready to go in about a minute. Hang tight.”

Bunny, whispering: “Speaking of tight…”

Peggy, vehemently whispering: “If you say one more word I will rip your other eye off and not feel one bit bad about it.”

Bunny: “Got it. My lips are sewed.”

The photographer, returning to his equipment, also whispering: “Do you think we should tell her?”

Jenna, the Underpaid Assistant, because there always is one: “That she’s holding Donald Trump? Maybe afterwards. We’ve got a deadline.”

Photographer, whose name is Easel Adams, should such a thing interest you: “But I feel a little bad. He forced his way onto the set by once again abusing his powers of Executive Privilege. I know we should be used to his disregard for common decency by now, but it’s still not right.”

Jenna: “Oh, don’t worry about Peggy. She seems like someone who can put him in his place. And I think most of the world would agree that it would be perfect if it’s a woman who finally brings Trump down. Especially a woman with a tan.”

 

Previously published in “Crusty Pie” and “Bonnywood Manor”. Modified and extended for this post. No actual stuffed animals were harmed in the making of this episode. But at least I finally know what happened to my granny’s bedroom slippers. (Yes, that means you should scroll up to the picture again. See? Right there on Trump’s perception-challenged head.)

 

8 replies »

  1. On behalf of Lagomorph Union #361, I am taking official offense at the comparison betwixt a really incredibly cute stuffed bunny and that turd in the Oval Office. Now since the picture is in black and white, the bunny in question might be a soft apricot or purple, or even turquoise, since that’s the shades they seemed to think children would gravitate towards ‘in those olden times’. The hue of the stuffie (who has a really nasty mouth, whatever his agenda) is irrelevant of course. The hue of that piece of excrement who pretends to run the country, while diddling everything he can reach (gender not important), and spewing vomitus all over our once proud country, is hopefully indicative of terminal hepatitis, a failed liver and maybe just a soupcon of extremely high blood pressure. In other words I hope T. Dump is shortly to drop dead, ridding the world of one more really ugly man with too much power.

    Um. Ooopsie. Sorry about the vitriol. I just dearly loved books such as “Rabbit Hill and Watership Down; and stories like “The Velveteen Rabbit”. Yes I admit it. I LOVE bunnies (the alleged rodent, not overly endowed women who set back women’s credibility every time they don another set of ears ((apologies to the actress (?) in your story. I’m sure ol’ Hugh (is he still alive?) wasn’t involved in her career). Rabbits who channel Tdump deserve a Glenn Close experience..

    Liked by 1 person

    • As usual, there should be no apologies for your fully-understood word-smithing. In fact, in my delicate balance of ribaldry and truth, I hoped that someone would respond just as you did. I’m sick to death of that bastard in the White House. I’m more sick that so many people still kneel at his feet and fumblingly attempt to worship his whippersnapper, a truly taxing task as said snapper is clearly microscopic or he wouldn’t be such an asshole.

      And yes, me loves bunnies, too. And “Watership Down”? I still remember the fervency and joy with which I read that thing. Methinks I should download such to my Kindle and relive it all once again…

      Like

    • Interestingly enough, this comment reminds me of the first fancy “suit jacket” that I ever owned. I don’t think it was camel’s hair, but it might have been, thus explaining the trigger. A certain paramour bought it for me, with a proper fitting and all that. If you ever stumble across a 1983 yearbook from Broken Arrow Senior High, there I am wearing it.

      I’m not sure what my point was with all of this. I’ll get back to you…

      Liked by 1 person

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