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From: v222p9ns@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (A PFC, AND DAMNED PROUD TO BE)
Newsgroups: alt.tasteless,rec.humor
Subject: Re: A Brush with Tastelessness
Message-ID: <1992Apr21.160553.24831@acsu.buffalo.edu>
Date: 21 Apr 92 17:05:00 GMT
References: <1992Apr18.131636.7661@dvorak.amd.com> <92110.151723PAISLEY@auvm.american.edu> <1992Apr20.192121.26856@sbcs.sunysb.edu>
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In article <1992Apr20.192121.26856@sbcs.sunysb.edu>, shane@sbgrad7.cs.sunysb.edu (Shane Bouslough) writes...

	[Story about ramming a bunny deleted]

>Then she looked in her rear view mirror and saw the wide-eyed faces of
>all those 2nd graders at a bus stop who just watched the bunny-killer
>in action!

	Last Easter break, (yes, it really was on Easter that I did this), I 
was driving a friend of mine home at about 2:00 in the morning. (Neither of us 
were drinking. Bummer.) As I was talking, I saw this flash of brown and white
fly in front of the car, about 25 feet ahead. Neither my friend nor I actually
recognized that it was a rabbit, but we both knew intuitively that that was
what it was. We both yelled 'BUNNY!!!!!', and I sped up. Nailed it, hard. But
the sick part was yet to come. I look back in the mirror, and see this thing is
in the middle of the road. It still had three dimensions to it, so we
figured we'd get out and check it out. It was still alive. But since it's hind
legs were rotated around 180 degrees at the hip, it's days of hopping-down-the-
bunny-trail were over. The look of terror in it's eyes was amazing. It was like
it was scared shitless (didn't notice any shit exuded from its ass), but it was
calm. It was as if it were saying "Shit, man, I'se gonna die. What da hell." 
I decided that if it was still alive when I came back from dropping my friend
off, I would go to my house (about 300 feet down the street) and get my air
rifle. Half because I felt bad for it, suffering, and half (the bigger half ;-)
because I always wanted to shoot something executioner-style. But alas, when I 
came back dwon the hill, it was dead. No doubt due to massive cardiac arrest and
hemorrhaging. But the REALLY tasteless part was when I told my mom the next day.
I told her about deciding to go back for the air rifle, and she says "That's not
what you're supposed to do. You're not allowed to be shooting things in the 
middle of the street." So I say "But Mom, what am I supposed to do about this
suffering animal in the street?" to which she replies, "You go into the back
of the car, and you get the crowbar...."  MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

>--
>Shane Bouslough       | #include <stddisc.h>
>shane@sbcs.sunysb.edu | #include <funnyquote.h>

				
						-Jeff

===============================================================================
\ Jeff Wilson  SUNY BUFFALO   | He shall know his ways, as if born unto them. /
\ V222P9NS@UBVMS.CC.BUFFALO.EDU |                            -Dune            /
\ WILSON@AUTARCH.ACSU.BUFFALO.EDU |===========================================/
\---------------------------------| Why a spoon, cousin?  -Guy of Gisbourne   /
\ I taught Rick Wakeman everything| Because it's DULL, you twit,              /
\   he knows.  - me               | it'll hurt more!  -Sheriff of Nottingham  /
\==============================================================================
\ SUNY Buffalo does not support my opinions, and I wouldn't let them anyway.  /
===============================================================================