My trip was coming to an end. The rabbit head was dirty and worn. The mesh eyes had started to come undone and the rubber interior smelled from my sweat and the dirt from the streets.

I made my way to the courthouse stairs and sat down to think a while about lessons I'd learned as a rabbit and to consider what lay ahead. For one thing, I really needed to get a job.

Yes, that was priority number one.

Don't get me wrong.

I like my life as Rabbit Jones even though I could have done without the vodka poisoning.

But now, as I felt around in my pocket for my last $1.75, I knew that the life of a rabbit was far from a profitable existence.

I needed to find a job.

Perhaps I would go down to the docks and see if they needed courageous sailors or maybe deck hands or cabaret performers or maybe even exotic dancers.

And, as the shadows of the evening started to creep over the city once again I knew I had to make a decision.

I stood up and began to walk. Back to the subway. Back from the direction I came.

And then I saw it.

Sitting there in a little shop window somewhere close to the Brooklyn Bridge.

It called to me.

It beckoned me.

It grabbed onto my spirit and shook it joyously.

I had to have it.

I went into the store.

It cost exactly $1.75

I could manage that.

So I bought it.

I removed the rabbit head and stuffed it into my jacket.

Picked up my purchase and existed the store.

A new man.

A new identity.

'Luther ...the Beard'

The end