Saturday, April 21, 2012
[Bunny Fiction] Bunnies and Football.
Speedy had been reading Mr Mick's blog for a while now. Oh, sure, his human claimed it as her's, but all bunnies knew who was really in charge. He liked football, Speedy liked football, so Speedy decided to invite Mr Mick around for tea.
Of course, bunny tea was a bit different than the human concept. Instead of actual tea it was water with bits of cress and kale shredded in it, and instead of cucumber sandwiches it was just the cucumber.
Speedy didn't quite understand how this closet transport thing worked. He'd grilled Gus about it, Gus had said you just go into a closet, close the door, decide where you want to be and you open the door and you're there. It didn't sound very sensible, but apparently its what worked.
And so, he met Mr Mick at the closet by the living room and the two had made inroads on the snacks and bunny tea. They were nibbling on a few craisins when Speedy thought to ask if Mr Mick was interested in seeing a proper English football game, after all, the closet could take them there, couldn't it?
Mr Mick thought this a wonderful idea. He knew the London Olympics would have football, no matter what his silly momma said. And he was going to the Olypics, no matter what his silly momma said. A preview of the show sounded good to him!
So, Speedy led Mr Mick back to the closet, they closed the door, and off they went! Speedy had a brief wonder if they should have left a note for his mum so she wouldn't worry..
* * *
The stadium was loud and full of lots of yummy smells. The closet they arrived in smelled like stale beer, vomit and disinfectant. Gagging, the two bunboys fled out onto the concourse. They happily dodged between feets and legs as humans gabbered on amongst themselves. "Oi, is that a rabbit?" one voice asked. The two paused behind a trash bin to hear the answer of "A rabbit? At a football match? Have you already had a few?" Giggling to themselves, the rabbits hopped on.
"C'mon, we want centre pitch!" Speedy explained as he wound their way down and around. It was probably easier to take the stairs, but he'd found humans had a bad habit of trying to catch you if you went that route. So, they ducked under the seats and hopped down the levels. Mr Mick, being bigger than him had an easier time with the getting down of the levels, but he had to be careful or his tail would wump into the seat.
The two eventually stopped at the bottom and wiggled under the guard bars to hop down to the green. "This is real grass!" Mr Mick exclaimed, quite astonished. He leaned forward to take a nibble.
"Well, of course!" Speedy replied, a bit indignant. "What else would they play football on?"
"Oh.. We have this stuff.." Mr Mick paused, not quite sure how to explain it. "Oh! You know that crap humans put in their egg baskets at easter?"
Speedy nodded. His mum had never let him play with any, but he'd seen it on the internet.
"Well, they cut it up really short and they stick it all over the ground to look like grass." Mr Mick explained.
Speedy stared at him wide-eyed, "WHY?" he finally asked.
Mr Mick snorted and tossed his head, loppy ears flopping every which way. "Humans are weird. They think grass is too much work or something."
Speedy shook his head in amazement. Why would anything be too much work for a good football match up?
"Daddy! There's bunnies on the pitch!" a small voice blurted.
"Perhaps they're hungry." The dad humoured, not even looking at where the little boy pointed.
"Think they'd like some crisps?" the little boy asked
"I don't think crisps would be good for bunnies." The dad answered absently.
"Crisps?" Mr Mick asked.
Speedy, having spent a great deal of time on the internet, liked to think he was quite proficient in translating English to American. "Potato chips," he explained.
"Oh." Mr Mick processed that. "I don't think they're good for humans, either."
The two snorted their amusement.
"Oh! Oh! Arsenol's coming on!" Speedy sat up on his back legs, front paws wiggling in excitement. "They're the good guys. They're playing the 'Spurs, that's the Hotspurs, and the 'Spurs are the bad guys!" Speedy paused, "Oh! I should have brought my scarf, what's football without a scarf?"
Mick wasn't sure what scarfs and football had in common, but he was happy to watch the men jog out onto the field. His bunny brow starting to wrinkle in confusion. They weren't wearing a lot of padding; they weren't even wearing helmets!
His confusion grew as the start of the game progressed. The only familiar thing was the referee tossing the coin, even if the coin was a funny shape and colour. "This isn't football, its soccer!" Mick finally declared.
Speedy blinked at his new friend, "Its only soccer in America!" He countered, "Ohhh, look," he said, "Arsenol got the ball back and their new kicker is all lined up!"
Mick sneezed, "I don't understand this at all!"
"Oh." Speedy thought a moment, "Okay, well, the whole point is to get the ball in the net.."
"I know THAT much!" Mr Mick complained. He wasn't stupid!
"I know, I know, but Mum always said, start at the top." Speedy worked his way through the rule sets of English football, instbetween exclaimations of good plays and cheering.
Mr Mick watched the very long first half, a drizzle starting to come down by the time half-time was called. "I'm not sure if I like it or not." Mr Mick finally said as the two ducked under the seats, Speedy filching a box of chips that had been carefully left under a seat for its protection. Mr Mick licked his chops at the unusual way of preparing french fries, but he decided it would do.
"It takes some getting used to," Speedy agreed, "Its more fun than Cricket, anyway!"
Mick chewed thoughtfully, "What's Cricket?"
"BORING!" Speedy replied forceably. "They hit a ball, they run back and forth, they stand around a lot. Its all very boring."
Mr Mick thought soccer a bit unexciting without all the loud crashing of bodies and victory dances, he wasn't sure he wanted to watch anything MORE boring. The two ate the chips until they were licking vinegar off their whiskers and sneezing at the acrid smell.
The second half started up and the two decided to stay under the seats where they'd not get rained on. Mr Mick commented at least it wasn't snow.
"Snow?" Speedy spluttered, "Why would people watch sports in snow?!"
Mr Mick gave a mischevious bunny smirk, bum wiggling, "Canadians play IN snow. They play this game called 'hockey', where they run all around on top of snow, slipping and sliding everywhere, chasing after a little black thing and hitting each other with fists and sticks."
Speedy stared at the lop-eared rabbit, not sure if he was getting his tail pulled or not, but Mr Mick seemed awfully earnest about it. "Canadians are crazy." The smudge nosed rabbit finally said.
"Oh, well, yes. But we've all known that for years."
The two went back to the match and Speedy trying to explain strategy he didn't really much understand himself. The humans were all very happy because their 'good guys' were winning, or at least, not losing, or something.
At the end of the match, full of stolen chips, soda and some peanuts, the two wiggled their way back to the closet. "I think I'll go straight home, if you don't mind.. I really need a nap." Mick said, giving Speedy a nose bonk.
Speedy nodded and let out a long yawn, "Oh, yes, me too. Watching football is an awful lot of work!" He returned the nose bonk and told his friend that he could have first crack at the closet.
Mr Mick half hopped in and turned back, "Do you think me'n'my friends could come back for the Olympics?"
Speedy gave a minature happy bounce, "Of course! I know all the places that are showing things. I would love to meet your friends! Maybe we could get my Mum to make them all scarves!"
Mr Mick wiggled his bum, "I've always kind of wanted a scarf." he agreed as he headed into the stinky room, already thinking of his warm bed and home.
Speedy waited till the scent of Mick was gone before he enterted the closet and closed the door, thinking of his own warm den and bed. It been a very long day and he'd eaten many things he probably shouldn't have.. his Mum was probably going to be all fussy that he was too full to eat his dinner. He yawned as he hopped out of his closet at home. But humans always seemed to be fussing about one thing or another..