The Wascally Wabbit

 I wrote this weird little story when my sister, brother and I had an impromptu ten minute story writing contest. I only got nine paragraphs in ten minutes but we all finished our stories up afterwards.

  The wabbit watched the cave with wittle eyes. He had a matchstick in one hand and a ball of string in the other. When the sweet smells wafted out of the cave he hopped forward and hid by the door. He carefully arranged his string then struck his match on the iron door. Whoosh! Quickly, he snuffed it out and held the smoking stub against the crack of the door.

   “I smell smoke,” came a voice.

   “Smoke?” answered another.

   “Fire!” yelled a third.

   “Fire!” all three shrieked, and came tumbling out the door, tripping on the string. Wabbit leaped over the pile of wimmen and whipped inside, whamming the door closed and wocking it.

   Wes! He was inside!

   He began to help himself to the fresh pies. There’d be hell to pay, but that was better than twenty bucks apiece.

   Yes, he was a wascally wabbit.

   The wimmen started to bang on the door. Wabbit finished the last pie with lots of smacking and slurping. “Ahhh, wovely,” he said turning to face the door. How was he going to sugar coat this? He couldn’t go out the window, they’d catch him and flay him for sure. He scanned the kitchen. Hmm. He could do some cookin’ of his own.

   He hummed ‘Johanna’ from Sweeney Todd while he got some honey, milk, sugar, flour, molasses, and eggs mixin’ over the fire. The wimmen hammered on the door.

   “Let us in or we’ll flay you, you wicked wabbit!” they screamed.

   “Woo!” wabbit taunted. The door started to wobble as it was whacked. “Wu-oh,” said wabbit. He took his sauce from the stove as the door started to buckle.

   Splash-sploosh! He emptied his pot. The door busted in.

   Wabbit leaped back as the wimmen tumbled in on the floor, right into wabbit’s cooking.

   “Ha!” wabbit cackled. The wimmen struggled and strained to get up, but wabbit had really sugar coated it.

   “You wabbit!” the wimmen threatened. “We’s gonna wip you wimb from wimb!”

   “Plth!” wabbit said, opening the window. But wabbit had overestimated his cooking. One of the wimmen wipped herself off the floor and came at him yowling. She was so fast, he didn’t have a chance.

   The wimm wrapped her weally sticky arms around him and he woulda been stuck good.

   Fortunately her sudden yowling n’all had scared wabbit right out of his skin!

   “Weeow!” he said, leaping right out of his fuzzy wuzzy jammies and through the window. He set off running as fast as he could, which was pretty fast since he was buck naked. The wimmen were so sticky, they didn’t have a chance.

   Wabbit, he was a wabbit, he’d grow new skin, but he’d sure paid like hell. Now the wimmen would fight over who got a wabbit skin coat, which would last a couple days and cause lots of chaos.

So you could bet your wovely hide he’d be back outside the cave, watching with those wittle wabbit eyes.