[title cont: ...Half-Human, Half-Rabbit] Author's note: Bonjour, mes amis! The title kind of speaks for itself on this one, I think. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy reading this!
“Don’t be upset!” I cried after him. He stopped and spun around to face me.
“Don’t be upset? You turned into a GIANT RABBIT on our first date!” He shouted hysterically.
He had me there. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten so excited and transmogrified. It just seemed like we were getting along so well. I didn’t have any idea that turning into a big, white, fluffy animal would freak him out so much. Now, I could understand why he’d be upset if I’d turned into a cockroach or something. I knew a girl who’d done that once and now she was locked away for ‘unspecified government testing’. Okay, well, I had to put myself in his shoes. One moment he was kissing a divine specimen of gorgeousness and the next: WHAM! She’s a rabbit! Surprise!!
Word to the wise though, don’t EVER answer any craigslist ads promising tons of money and fame for participating in a ‘harmless medical study’. Seriously. Just. Say. NO. That’s how I got in this mess in the first place. I was a starving artist with a taste for caviar and champagne. Instead, I lived on Ramen and Easy Mac. I wanted to ‘jump start’ career, not by becoming the next Hugh Hefner plaything, but legitimately. That’s where SeinCorp came in. In hindsight, I realize that there wasn’t really anything ‘legitimate’ about the ad, but hindsight is 20/20 right? Besides, I’ve never exactly been the brightest sequin on Elvis’ jumpsuit if you know what I’m saying.
That day started out much like any other. I woke up, spent my usual hour and a half beautifying myself, and walked out the door. The SeinCorp building should have been the first thing to tip me off. It was sketchy, no-windowed, and dingy. It was also in the so-called ‘armpit’ of town. Seriously. I’m not making this up. Anyways, if I was remotely intelligent, I would’ve turned back when I still had the chance. But of course, I was blinded by the ‘promise’ that all my debt would soon be washed away.
I swung open the cheap plastic doors and they swiftly got their revenge by hitting me square on the coccyx. Ouch. That was going to leave a pretty substantial mark. Gathering my pride back, I hobbled over to the elevator, pressed the button, and…fell through a hole in the floor. At first, I thought it was shoddy engineering, but then I realized it was one of those stealthy contraptions that you find in spy movies. Amazingly enough, I landed on both my feet; though not surprisingly, I heard something snap in my ankle.
‘Oh well,’ I thought cheerily, ‘this is a medical building, they can fix me right up and stick it on my tab.’
So there I was, rather moderately injured, standing in one of those clichéd ‘mad labs’. You know what I’m talking about, right? A single light bulb hangs from the ceiling, flickering constantly. A moldy, deep fog permeating the air. A myriad of cages with animals and other strange things in them. Machines hooked up everywhere and test tubes strewn all over the place.
Anyways, I’m looking around at everything, soaking it in, when out of the shadows, walks a normal looking man in a business suit. I’d even go so far as to call him almost distinguished. I don’t know what I’d expected, Igor or something maybe, but not this guy.
“You must be Charlotte,” he said, offering me his hand.
“Present.” I said, taking his hand.
Another tip off, his hand was clammy and he had a weak grip. My momma, a former debutante, told me to NEVER trust anyone with a weak handshake. That little gem came back to me, not when I actually needed it, mind you, but after I had irreversibly been turned into a freak of nature. Way to go, brain.
Before I continue this all too riveting tale, I should probably explain how this whole half-human, half-rabbit hybrid thing works. It’s kind of a Bruce Banner thing. So instead of turning into the Not-So Jolly Green Giant when I get angry, I turn into the flipping Easter Bunny. And it isn’t just anger either; it’s any kind of extreme emotion. Lust, happiness, sadness, anger, you name it, it makes me go all fluffy and twitchy.
That little problem was got me in trouble with my date this evening, he leaned in for a goodnight kiss, and SHAZAM, the inner bunny was released. Great. Just great. So much for a normal date, right?
But I digress, the only reason you’re still even reading is because you want to know what turned me into what I am today.
So I was at SeinCorp with the slightly shady gentleman with the weak grip, when he takes me back to Dr. Caligari’s Cabinet of Horrors. (No, his name wasn’t Dr. Caligari, it was a…just Wikipedia it.) The doctor’s name was Howard Dawson and he was conducting experimental tests with a ‘special’ new drug that was supposed to immediately mend broken bones. He took one look at my askew ankle and asked if I wanted to try it out. I hadn’t realized how much pain I was in until he mentioned it, but at that moment, I was throbbing so I agreed. Now, if I had any common sense at all, I would’ve said no, but as we all know, common sense is not so common, so I jumped at the chance.
Dr. Dawson then led me into this sleazy underground ‘lab’ with some massively old school equipment. He laid me down on this cold, hard metal table and hooked me up to a heart monitor. Then he brought out this vial of purple, gelatinous goop. By then, my brain and common sense had started to kick in, but when I opened my mouth to protest, he force fed me that stuff. It tasted like Dimetapp Jell-O. Which, needless to say, made me want to vomit a bit, and I would’ve if I hadn’t started having a massive seizure. The last thing I remember the ‘good’ doctor saying before I lost all consciousness was: ‘I’ve made a huge mistake.’ Way to invoke confidence, dear doctor.
When I finally woke up, I was in another room. This one was slightly less depressing, but being as there were no windows in this dung heap, it wasn’t much of an improvement. The doctor was pacing back and forth as my eyes opened, but then he rushed over to me.
It was then that he explained everything. He had made a mistake and instead of giving me the broken bones stuff, he’d given me a rabbit’s DNA instead. I’m not sure how that can be mistaken, but apparently they’re both purple. Or something. The rabbit’s DNA had fused with mine and voila, now I was a weird hybrid creature. There was no antidote and I was stuck like this for the rest of my life. It was at this point that I lost my temper. It was also at this point that I turned into a rabbit for the first time. It didn’t hurt or anything, I just made sort of a Jiffy Pop noise and POOF, I had floppy ears and a wet, pink nose. It was then that Dr. Dawson explained to me, that extreme emotions caused me to phase into rabbit form. As if it weren’t obvious enough to me already.
So, there it was, I had to permanently control my emotions which meant that I had to find a low-stress career. Well, there went my dreams of playing Lady Macbeth. Can you imagine that performance? ‘Out, Out…’ Oh, look she’s a giant bunny now. Is this some sort of postmodernist interpretation? Brilliant. Just perfect.
But I’m not bitter. I got my money. Granted, it wasn’t from SeinCorp, in fact that check probably would’ve bounced anyway. As soon as I left, I went straight on over to the police and revealed all of its secrets. Its secrets, not mine. I’m not that stupid. As for my everyday life, I work as a yoga instructor. Believe it or not, the deep breathing exercises really keep me under control and I don’t have that many unnatural bunny experiences. I live a pretty normal life, now the next step is trying to find someone who likes bunnies. Like a vet. Or a nice man in animal control. Well, maybe not animal control, but you know what I mean.
Created: Mar 01, 2010Document Media