Broken Bunny

While at the Colony we were encouraged to engaged in any particular fantasies we might have. Or even, fantasies our friends might have.

At dinner one night, we encountered a somber young gentleman who wore only a cast. He was accompanied by his wife, who modestly wore a lobster bib. Of course they WERE having lobster, but still. It seemed a bit much.

"Bunny, sweetie, let me cut your meat for you," she said.

He sighed with resignation.

"Is there anything we can do?" Mal approached.

"No. I don't like asking for help."

"Anything you'd like from the kitchen, then?"

"Oh, no, he's perfectly well fed," his wife said.

"I just want some chicken wings," he said petulantly, "in bleu cheese sauce and ranch to dip them in," he finished mournfully.

"Well, since I own the place," Mal said, "I suppose we could rustle some up for you."

I gave him a funny look. "You own the place?"

He grinned.

"Oh Lord."

The next thing I knew, Mal had summoned a large tub out to the dining area that was filled with bleu cheese dressing on one side, and ranch on the other.

"Here, let me help you in," he said, as he assisted Bunny into the tub.

"This is really great!" Bunny was in hog heaven.

"I don't know about this, dear," his wife said.

"Oh, pish tosh, Esmerelda! It's high time I had a little fun!" He sunk into the tub. "Ah, that's nice and cool."

"But just wait!" Mal exclaimed.

A host of waiters appeared with hot wings and gently deposited them into the tub.

"Ah, this is the life," Bunny reached down and grabbed a wing and ate it with gusto. "Do get in with me, Esmerelda."

She sighed and got in.

I never saw a happier couple.

I love my Captain!

I remain,

Hilda Stinson