marox_pass_it_was_fiver fyn gula maylay, of course, wondered which rabbit it was that had accidently leaped from his tattered copy of watership down. (although he was secretly wishing nylem would have given him "jimmy corrigan, the smartest kid on the earth") and it seemed so did everyone else, well, at least they seemed it should be caught, basically for two reasons, neither of which were his intentions because maylay never thought rabbits should be confined, even if they were simply figments of someone's imagination. first, (and isn't it always for ourselves?) so the puppet show could continue for disturbances must be made right before life can proceed. order, mind you, not chaos. and secondly, without one of the rabbits, how could the lapine masterpiece be told correctly to future generations? "it must be fiver," nabiscus said, noticing the extreme worried look on the rabbit's face. "he appears to be in need of emitting an utterance." he was right on both parts. the rabbit was fiver and as he hopped up to the puppet stage, eluding the grasp of children, faeries, dwarves, and stooping giants (never mind the old minstrels, they continued to sleep, fucking vicodin. "oh, it's my leg that hurts now. can i have another one?") he looked about anxiously and spoke in a hurried voice, "this is coming to the scary part of fyn gula's story," he said, trembling, as if he was in someone's garden nibbling at red leaf lettuce destroying the one thing it took months to grow. nylem chuckled. "must be talking about the dog bite, but fyn hasn't even been to indiana yet." he twisted the cap off a red hook blonde that a dwarf gave him. "somebody put the fucker back into the book." however, it wasn't the dog bite fiver was referring to and maylay realized this was the way to get the marox pass back into copello's possession. the acquisition of knowledge. what one knows is always an advantage over the unmotivated. 010721 ... log burning fire if there was only one book. 060311 ... log burning fire it would be watership down. 060312 what's it to you? who go blather from