(no subject)
The bunnies were driving Lloyd up the fucking wall. They'd been around for almost two months now, during which they had gone from bald rat-like creatures to cute, fuzzy, and insufferable little bastards. They were too big to keep in the box all the time, and enjoyed chewing the fuck out of whatever piece of furniture unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Worst than the vandalism was coming back to his room after a shift at the club, wanting nothing more than to dive headfirst into the bed, and having to clean their shit instead. Lloyd found himself spending a great chunk of time wishing he'd owned a gas mask.
Most of them didn't have names. They were called 'sweetie', 'buddy', 'fuzzface' or 'asshole', depending on the occasion and on Lloyd's mood at the time. The exception was One-Eared Jack, who'd earned the nickname in a bloody incident Lloyd was doing his best to forget, and the son of a bitch responsible (sure, he'd looked all innocent once he'd done it, as if it'd been a sad accident, but Lloyd knew better). Lloyd had christened him the Hoppin' Dude, doubting any other name could do him justice. Some nights, he'd wake up to find the black rabbit staring at him from the desk, his tiny eyes sparkling with pure malice. Fucking freaky was what it was, and Lloyd was sure Hoppy was gonna chew his throat out one of these days.
But smelly, annoying and possibly life-threatening as they were, Lloyd hadn't been able to bring himself to give them away yet. They were family, sort of, and it didn't sit right with him. Trouble was, even Playboy was getting tired of the little fuckers, and he was afraid that if he left them all in the room for much longer, they were going to start munching on each other.
So he guessed it was about time. Lloyd sat down and made a list of proud bunny owners to be (not all of them were going to be all that proud or even thrilled about it, but that wasn't his problem, was it?), and prepared to spend the day making some Rabbit Express deliveries.