To the Rescue!
By Josan
For Peach on her birthday.
It all began on a day that was like any other day.
Peach got up, staggered to the bathroom, avoided stepping on the dogs as she did so.
She was in the process of brushing her teeth when it suddenly dawned on her that the route to the bathroom this morning had been far less accident-prone than normal: the dogs were not there.
She frowned as she showered. She pursed her brow as she meditated on that anomaly while she pretended to do some morning exercise – in spite of what her physio therapist had told her, she did too believe that bending over and shaving her legs did indeed qualify as limbering exercise. As she straightened to rinse the razor, she thought she caught something from the corner of an eye, something streaking past the open door of her bathroom. She took the step that allowed her to peer around the doorway. Nothing.
She shrugged and continued working on her 'limbering exercise'.
Back in the bedroom, she glanced around the room as once more she had the feeling that something was moving about.
Probably the dogs, she told herself as she finished straightening out the bed. The kids must have let the dogs out that morning and maybe one of them had snuck back in when the kids had left for the day.
"Rita!" she called out, trying to see which one it was. "McGill! Max? Maggie?"
She heard some noise behind her and turned to see, not the dogs, not even one dog, but...
"A bunny? Since when do we have a bunny?" she mused aloud, staring at the intruder.
It's really quite cute, she thought. Hope the ferret (the family's newest member) doesn't get it. Better pick it up.
To that purpose she approached, only to stop when a second bunny joined the first.
"Ahhh, two, eh? Shoot, but you guys are cute. Hope you're a same sex pairing because frankly, I've heard about you guys and your rate of reproduction." She snickered aloud.
The bunnies looked at each other, then one looked behind.
And a third bunny joined the group.
"What?" Three of them, thought Peach. What the hell are the kids thinking about, three bunnies!? "Well, I don't know. No one passed this by me," she told the trio which suddenly looked a little less appealing.
Was it her imagination, or had the bunnies been getting larger since they'd arrived? They had appeared soft, small and cuddly at first glance, but now... That first one seemed to have doubled in size and the second was not far behind it.
Time to deal with this...problem.
She took a couple of steps, approaching the group when a fourth bunny appeared. "What the ... This is not funny! Where the frell are we going to put four bloody rabbits?"
Her tone seemed to be upsetting the bunnies. She actually heard something that sounded like a growl!
The bigger bunnies took a hop towards her and suddenly Peach felt a frisson run up her back. The bunnies *were* getting bigger....
Not just getting bigger, but seemingly undergoing a personality change. Their soft brown eyes now had a red glint in them. Their fluffy fur seemed less touchable, more harsh. One of the bunnies, the first one she thought, opened its mouth and suddenly she caught a glimpse of sharp little teeth.
And while she had been focused on this one rabbit, other bunnies had appeared out of nowhere. The four were now seven, now nine, now eleven!
"SHIT!"
Peach took a step backwards and started looking for a weapon.
These were not ordinary bunnies!
These were the dreaded PLOT BUNNIES!!!!!
Bunnies that did not just want to be fed and stroked and allowed to shit all over the house!
These bunnies grew and developed fangs that sank into your skin and stayed there until satisfied they had drained all creativity out of you!
Who could only be satisfied, who would only let go when they had been used in a story!!!
And now there were dozens of them!
All growing!
All glaring at her with those reddened eyes of theirs...
Their teeth growing longer by the breath!!
Their mouths drooling the saliva that allowed them to feed on a writer's imagination!!!
"HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Peach grabbed for the first thing that came at hand...a thesaurus...and threw it at the first Plot Bunnie.
Who ducked.
All the bunnies stopped and watched to see what the first now gigantic bunnie would do.
It looked at the book.
Looked up at Peach.
Snickered.
Evilly.
And grew!
"HHHEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Over the growing growls of the Plot Bunnies, Peach heard a door open and footsteps.
"Help me! I'm in the bedroom!" Peach had been backed up to the bookcase and was throwing whatever book came to hand at the Plot Bunnies in an futile attempt to keep them away.
The Plot Bunnies only ducked each one, growing more belligerent and hostile by the book, knowing that each represented the end of one of their kind.
"Where are you?" called out a male voice that Peach did not immediately recognize. When it dawned on her whose voice it might be, her jaw dropped, but thankfully that was after she had yelled, "Down the hall, to the left!"
Dear god, could it be... How could it ... Delusion... Had to be...
All that passed quickly through her mind as the footsteps came down the hall.
She took the chance of looking up.
Walter S. Skinner, dressed in tight worn blue jeans, a skin-tight muscle-hugging black henley, topped with a black bomber leather jacket filled the doorway.
For a moment, the image was so overwhelming, Peach thought she might swoon. But a growl from the nearest Plot Bunnie kept her on her feet.
"Hang on, Peach. We'll take care of these alien life-forms!"
*We*? thought Peach. *Alien* life forms?
As Walter S. Skinner used his foot...booted with leather-covered steel...to deal with the nearest Plot Bunnies, Peach saw in amazement that he was joined by another.
This man was also dressed in black. Tight black jeans. Tight, slightly worn black t-shirt. Topped with a worn black leather jacket that had seen much of the world. And beyond!
"Alex Krycek!"
The man in question flashed one of those evil, shit-disturbing, heart-beating-faster type grins at Peach, winked one of those devilish moss-green eyes at her, and proceeded to join the fray.
Unfortunately for our heroes, when they had entered the house, so had all the dogs.
Now then, dogs love chasing bunnies. And these dogs were no different. Problem was, these were not ordinary bunnies and they did not react as normal bunnies would have.
No, once the dogs raced into the room to have some fun, some of the Plot Bunnies – which had kept on replicating like... Well, like bunnies! – turned to deal with them.
And Rita, McGill, Max (aka Maxwell Silver Hammer) and Maggie May all found that they had bitten off far more than they could chew...well, at the very least, chase.
Which is how Peach found herself with an armful of trembling Rita; Alex, with Max; Walter, trying hard to hold his balance with two shivering...sigh, have to admit it, terrified and pissing...dogs in his arms.
Humans and dogs had been cornered and the Plot Bunnies were not only growling menacingly, they were *cackling*!!!
Dear god! thought Peach, heart beating frantically as she struggled to stay upright. If she fell, was overwhelmed by the Plot Bunnies...well, there wasn't time enough left for her to deal with all of them ... Even if she lived to be 200!!!!
"I don't want to go this way!" she moaned.
"BACK!" screamed Alex, also struggling to keep his footing as he tried to keep Max from climbing to the top of his head, all the while using his feet (also properly booted) to keep the Plot Bunnies at bay. If they overwhelmed them all, well, he knew his ass would never recover!
"FUCK!!!" yelled Walter, trying hard to juggle Maggie May and McGill -- the latter who seemed to have the largest bladder ever known in animaldom! – and kicking out as he tried to deal with the ever-growing Plot Bunnie population. Damn! At this rate, he would never get to retire with Alex to the Old Fanfic Pairings Home! And he had been looking forward to the day when he wouldn't have to get it up more than once in a blue moon. Seemed he was doomed to a continual case of cock-itch since he got so many erections while dressed. All that rubbing....
The Plot Bunnies sensed they were getting the upper hand, that victory was at hand...
Suddenly, there was the sound of a whip snapping over their heads.
And then another.
And yet another!
Everything stopped...froze.
The dogs stopped their whimpering and whining. McGill stopped pissing – much to Walter's immediate appreciation.
The Plot Bunnies stopped trying to attach themselves to their cornered victims.
Alex and Walter stopped kicking at them.
Peach's mouth dropped open.
There, standing in the room, Plot Bunnie whips in hand, in all their shiny-black-leather catsuit-body-clad splendour were...
"Ursula! Jen! Julie!"
The Slasher Trio grinned and the Plot Bunnies murmured warily.
Yes, indeed. The dreaded – well, to Plot Bunnies – Slasher Trio!
The Guardians of Slashers' Sanity!
(Well, what little they have....)
Ursula, for her quick betas!
Jen, for her manips!
Julie, for her emotional support through trying plot lines!
"What the hell were you thinking of?" Ursula, striding confidently on her stiletto-high-heeled up-to-the-knee steel-‘nose-picker'-toed black leather boots, flicked her whip, driving some of the Plot Bunnies into a tight corner.
As Walter and Alex and Peach watched, the Slasher Trio flicked their whips (causing the occasional wince from both Alex and Walter!) over the heads of the Plot Bunnies which were now beginning to panic.
Unless they had latched onto the writer, had dug their drooling fangs into a writer's skin, they had no recourse but to try to escape the power of the Diminishing Whips!
The mere hint of a touch of one of those specialized whips caused them to shrink within themselves until there were mere wee teeny tiny little Plot Bunnies that could easily be stored on a disc (or CD for those slashers with enough money and job security to have forked out for an CD-RW upgrade!) until needed or until the slasher had time for them.
"You know the dangers of having more than one Plot Bunnie around at a time!" Jen – also elegantly shod with five inch heels – flicked her whip expertly over the growling, snarling Plot Bunnies, reducing their size.
"It's not her fault,"defended Julie sympathetically, gracefully pivoting on a needle-point heel, keeping the almost frenzied Plot Bunnies in sight, "you know what they're like. All someone needs to do is mention a request and there they are!" Her whip kept the others at bay as Ursula and Jen dealt with first one batch then another.
There was much gnashing of Plot Bunnie teeth but eventually, all the Plot Bunnies had been reduced to storable size.
Quickly, Peach dumped Rita on the bed, booted up her computer and dropped in a CD into its drive. Within moments, all the Plot Bunnies had been safely stored and were now totally controllable.
"Thank you, Slasher Trio," sighed Peach. "Never could have done it without you!"
Walter and Alex agreed, manfully admitting that they would never have been able to save Peach on their own. That there were things only slashers could do!
The Slasher Trio, well aware of the fragility of male egos, allowed that without having heard their courageous battle against the ever-hungry Plot Bunnies, they would probably not have arrived in time.
All four females smiled knowingly behind their backs, but male egos are very fragile things and that was something else that the Slasher Trio considered to be part of their mandate to protect.
The dogs were patted and also told how brave they had been.
(The men, of course, did not pick up on the irony of those comments...this is not that kind of story!)
So, once everything was back to normal, Peach invited all the visitors to come into the kitchen for coffee (It was way too early for anything else, eh!) and for a piece of birthday cake...as it just so happened that today was her birthday.
As they left the room, the dogs looked nervously around but hurried out to join the humans who had left the room.
Long minutes later, when the sound of the humans came loudly from the kitchen, after several caffeine-influenced choruses of Happy Birthday had been sung, there was a faint stirring from under the comforter on Peach's bed.
A stirring that travelled the length of the bed to the head...
Where a little long-eared head peeked out to see if the coast was clear...
And it was...
No one – because the dogs were back in the yard – heard the tiny evil cackle of the quickly growing Plot Bunnie!!!!!
Thanks, Jen, for catching all the early morning typos and missing words.
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