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Rocky Rat and the Easter Bunny Case (standard:humor, 1788 words)
Author: Oscar RatAdded: Apr 06 2007Views/Reads: 1787/1099Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Detective Rocky Rat of the Chicago Police Department has a strange case, investigating a crime by the Easter Bunny.
 



Rocky Rat, here, the only rodent detective sergeant in the Chicago
Police Department.  I got another story for you. 

I was tired that night, wanting to go home and have a brew.  Just as I
turned off my computer and stood up to stretch, a human head stretched 
into my office. 

“Rocky,” Sergeant McNut, the desk sergeant, told me, “We have something
for you.” 

“Can't it wait until morning, Jim.” 

“Pro'ly not.  It's sorta a 'mergency.” 

“Emergency?  What can be an emergency at eleven pm on a Wednesday?” 

“You ain't a gonna believe it, rat.” 

Since he had to hurry back to his desk in front, I rode on his shoulder.


On McNut's desk there was a cage holding a large white rabbit, the guy
sort of shrunk in posture, looking down at the floor of the cage. 

“This is Billy Bunny, Rocky,” Jim smiled, shaking his head, and
continued, “also known as the Easter Bunny.” 

I let out a sigh.  It looked like not only my night sitting by the fire
with a cold brew was ruined, but maybe the week-end.  After all, it was 
the week before Easter, and I had the Easter Bunny in a cage. 

“What's he charged with, Jim?” 

“Stealin' women's underwear.  Billy here is accused of stealin'
underwear durin' last year's Egg deliveries.” 

I looked down at the cage, seeing the tops of two shy reddish eyes
looking back at me from a bowed head, two floppy ears drooping. 

Damn. 

“Can you take us back up to my office, jim?  I better see if I can get
him released by this weekend.  Millions of kids will be disappointed if 
they don't get them damned colored eggs.” 

“Hey, Jenkins,” McNut yelled across the room to where a burly patrolman
was getting a cup of coffee from a machine, “Take this rabbit up to 
Rocky's room, will ya.” 

*** 

Well, a few minutes later, I sat back at my desk, waiting for the
computer -- still warm -- to boot up, with Billy Bunny, a.k.a. The 
Easter Bunny, sitting across my desk, wearing handirons. 

He sat quietly, still looking downward, unable to meet my stern gaze. 

“Women's underwear?  What the hell you want with them, Billy boy?” 

“I didn't do it,” he muttered softly. 

We sat in silence until the computer came up.  I checked the arrest
record. 

There had been an anonymous phone tip that morning.  A human detective,
recognizing the need to hurry before the holiday, had taken a mouse 
SWAT squad and raided Billy's apartment, one room of which was filled 
with the aforesaid undergarments.  According to the record, they were a 
real assortment, new, used, clean, soiled, everything from mouse to 
moose garments, even a few pairs of human stockings and panties. 

Being the only rodent detective on the Job, I got the case. Damn. 

Sitting back in my chair, rear legs on the desk, I asked, “I suppose you
have records of purchasing the ... uh ... merchandise?” 


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