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    Stab the Rabbit
    Stab the Rabbit
    Stab the Rabbit
    Ebook81 pages39 minutes

    Stab the Rabbit

    By Shane McKenzie and Aron Beauregard

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Have you ever wished you could meet your favorite cartoon character?

    Just yank them right from the TV into your living room? Go on adventures and cause some mischief together? For Boyd, this wish came true. And at first, it was all fun and games when his favorite cartoon bunny Harry Hare stepped out of the screen a

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBad Dream Books
    Release dateOct 31, 2024
    ISBN9798330520350
    Stab the Rabbit

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      Book preview

      Stab the Rabbit - Shane McKenzie

      STAB THE RABBIT

      Mom and Dad ain’t gonna like it, I said, but Randall wasn’t having none of it. He took that little device right into the living room and sat down with it in his lap.

      Close the door already, he said, his eyes on the screen. The color of it shined up in his face and was so bright it looked like fruit juice was splashed over him. And you won’t say shit to Mom and Dad. Cuz if you do I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll be shittin’ out your nose.

      I had only taken my eyes off the Salesman for a second. A short man—kid short. Midget short, since he was an adult. Red clothes. So red it hurt if you looked too hard. Red hat, too. One of them hats with the little propellers on top. And it spun. There wasn’t any wind, but that thing spun the whole time he was giving his spiel.

      After Randall took the little device from him, the Salesman thanked them, then started to leave. Backing away from the door. Smiling real big. So big it was like the corners of his mouth unpeeled from his face.

      I blinked and he had his back to me. Walking away. Slow—like he was on roller skates with slugs for wheels. When Randall said he was gonna kick my ass real hard, I turned to look at him, but only for a second. Real quick. When I turned back, the Salesman was gone. Didn’t seem possible for him to have disappeared so quick.

      Close the door, Boyd, ya retard.

      I did. What you take that thing for? What if Mom and Dad can’t afford it?

      You didn’t hear the man? It’s free. You were standin’ right there with me when he said it.

      There ain’t nothing free. Why would a man go door to door giving away free… what is that anyway?

      Randall hadn’t taken his eyes off the device since he’d wrapped his hands around it. He squinted, licked his lips, and swiped his fingers across the wide screen.

      One of them iPads, Randall said. Or a knock off or somethin’ like it.

      Okay then, I said, You think that man’s just gonna let you have it? For nothing?

      Why not?

      Cuz he’s a salesman. They sell things. He ain’t Santa Claus.

      Randall finally took his eyes off the device so he could make an ugly face at me. Will you shut up and come over here already? This thing’s pretty cool.

      Something about the whole deal made me feel funny. Like when I gotta pee at night and it’s dark in the house and I gotta run by the guest room with the door that don’t shut all the way. I can’t see nothing in there and I know it’s stupid to be scared of a dark and empty room, but that don’t mean I don’t run by it as fast as I can just to make sure.

      It was like that. Something about the device and the Salesman made me wanna run real fast.

      But I couldn’t let my big brother know I was scared of some stupid computer or whatever it was. I’d been pouring myself a bowl of cereal when the Salesman knocked at the door. By the time I’d made it over there, he was already halfway through explaining it to Randall, and he didn’t start it over on account of me. Probably because he could see on Randall’s face that he’d already had a sale.

      Even though the Salesman had given it to Randall for free, there had to be a catch. I was just a kid and I knew that—nothing’s free. Ain’t no such thing as free.

      Mom and Dad had to go visit Aunt Priscilla over in Houston. Boyfriend went and beat her up and she didn’t have nobody else to call about it. Since me and Randall were old enough to take care of ourselves, they let us stay home. Said they’d be back in the morning.

      It was a weeknight, but since it was summer vacation, we didn’t have nothing to do. They’d left us twenty bucks for pizza, but me and Randall agreed to save it so we could buy some comics or a new video game.

      The only problem was they’d given the money to Randall—I had a feeling I wouldn’t ever get to see it.

      You didn’t give him that twenty, did you? I asked, just to make sure.

      I told you, retard. It was free, Randall spat back. Quit bein’ a dumbass and check this out. It’s got TV on it.

      He held up the device, and when I saw it, most of the weirdness I’d been feeling just sort of went away. Floated off me like a hat carried off by a strong wind.

      Harry Hare. My favorite cartoon show since I could remember. Randall’s too, even though he wouldn’t admit it at the time. Was too old and cool for a cartoon like Harry Hare anymore.

      But still, when he held up that device, he was smiling the way he used to smile on Saturday mornings. We would always make sure we were up early enough to catch the show—wouldn’t miss Harry and all his crazy adventures for anything. The way he’d get the better of all the bad characters trying to catch him and make rabbit stew out of him, bonking them on the head with his mischief mallet.

      At one point in every episode, it always looked like the bad guy was gonna get him. But no matter what, Harry would always get loose

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