Life has a funny way of throwing curves at you. One minute you're writhing around in Times Square in a totally dehabilitated state, and in the next, you're waking up in a dumpster with a new outlook on life and a strange desire to go out and do something productive. That's what happened to me...Rabbit Jones.

I climbed out of the dumpster and brushed myself off. Felt around in my pockets with little hope of finding anything but some old chewing gum and a bottlecap from the vodka bottle that I had injested the night before. Or was it the night before that?

I reached back into the dumpster and tore a piece of carboard from a damp carboard box that had six dead puppies stuffed inside.

"Whats kind of bastard would kill a bunch of little puppies and throw them into a dumpster like that?", I thought to myself as I emptied them out onto the sidewalk.

Probably some sort of psycho.

I walked across the street into a 7-eleven and asked the cashier if I could borrow a marker.

"Sure, here", she said as she thrust it towards me, "just don't hurt me alright?"

What the hell did she mean by that?

"You know how to spell Monseratt?", I asked her.


"MONSERATT?!", I repeated. "You know? That island that blew up and everyone went to England?"

"Wha?", she said. She seemed to be having a muscle spasm.

'MONSERATT! MONSERATT!' I yelled as she took a step back from the edge of the counter, "how the hell you spell MONSERATT?'

'M - O - N - S - T - E - R R - A - T - S'

She spelled.

"No, not MONSTER RATS', I replied , feeling quite agitated...MONSE- Look, forget it"

So I wrote:MONSERATT VOLCANO REFUGEE onto the carboard and then walked to Washingston Square Park. It was only three blocks away.

I propped myself up on the edge of that pool thing with an empty cup in one hand and the sign in the other and waited, and waited.

Tourists came by and looked at me.

They wanted to take my picture but none of them wanted to pay me.

"No money, no damn picture!", I barked.

"You're a loser anyway you stupid rabbit. You can't even spell Monserratt and you've got vomit on your back."

I reached around and felt the back of my shirt. It was crispy.

'Damn vomit', I thought out loud, 'nobody's gonna give me any money if I've got vomit on my back'.

Suddenly a black girl came up to me and dropped $20 into the cup.

I was amazed.

'Thank you very much", I said as I gazed up into her ping-pong ball sized eyes.

'It's nothing", she said 'I'm kind of glad to see you. I thought all the rabbits had died on the mountainside.'