Mr. Rabbitson reviewed his P60 form carefully. He wanted to make sure he received his fair share of carrots back, unlike last year, when he’d been stiffed fifteen of them due to a personal allowance misunderstanding. He set out his P50 sheet, and did the calculations for carrot to pound. Humans and their thievery.

The Farmer Brown was most likely lurking outside the communal garden right now with a hoe, waiting to frighten the children out of their next supper. Mr. Rabbitson would have to have another word with his supervisor about the frequent garden capers. They had to eat only lettuce three times last week! This was not the way to raise a proper bunny herd.

Mrs. Rabbitson stuck her head in the small office to proclaim dinner arranged, just as Mr. Rabbitson finished his maths. He shuffled the papers, and moved away from his desk. They were quite lucky to have such a cozy warren, the Lagas down the street had to make do with a much smaller hole in the ground.

Farmer Brown shook his hoe at the sky.