Hello everyone! And… welcome to the first character in my brand new series titled ‘The Christmas Misfits.’ Offbeat, re-imagined and definitely gloomy, The Christmas Misfits is an left of center introduction to a new world, and the start of something very exciting! Enjoy the first character, Buddy the Bunny, – whose sneak peek story proved to be quite a challenge for me to write – and don’t forget to subscribe and tell me what you think in the comment section below!
Let’s get some facts straight. I’m not an overeater. You may be, or you may be, or YOU may be, but I’m not. It’s that simple.
If I were to be testified, okay, sure, I’m a little big. What’s the big deal? I like my cheesy carrots deep-fried. I like extra chocolate milk in my morning latte. I have four bowls of cereal for breakfast. Do you really care? Does it really matter? Does this affect you in any way? N. O.
Do you care what I look like? The only thing that matters to you is whether or not you get that sweet, sweet chocolate at Easter. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, hazelnut! Don’t even get me started on the fillings!
If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been in the chocolate business all my life. I make the chocolates and I eat the chocolates. Sometimes I eat more than you would probably like me to, but big deal. My weight certainly isn’t.
So this is me ‘self exploring.’ This waste-of-time document is supposed to, according to my bosses, open my eyes to my “unhealthy” and “overindulgent” lifestyle. The next step, apparently, is to enroll me in Over-Eaters Anonymous. Ridiculous. I should’nt have to justify how I live. There is nothing wrong with how I live. Take a hop in my pawprints. How would you feel as a grown bunny if you were being forced into this?
They’re concerned with the fact that I haven’t made much chocolate lately. What’s it to them? I just want some time off as all hard-workers are entitled.
My intention was to curl up in front of the TV in my dressing gown and slippers with a bowl full of assorted cream-filled minis and indulge in a season (or five) of Carrot Your Enthusiasm. They’ve just uploaded the latest season, for Christ’s sakes. I have priorities. Is it too hard to just shut myself away for a few days, do nothing but sleep and eat and nap, not being bothered by anybody? No emails, no calls, no Tweets and certainty no visits from Chocolate Warehouse Management, nor my assistants. Bunch of half-wits, if you ask me.
I need another month off. Perhaps a year. Possibly a lifetime. I’ve had it up to my whiskers with being the Chocolate Bunny. It’s time to be Buddy, me, and all Buddy wants to do is eat, sleep and lie in my own filth until I decide when it’s appropriate to get up and shower. I don’t feel this is too much to ask.
Apparently I’m in denial to think I can spend a few extra days down in my rabbit-hole. What happened to annual leave? A union? No. Oh no, bunnies don’t get that. Especially not me. I get long hours, grueling hours in fact, with 5am starts and orders from Marrakesh, Sydney, Mumbai, and Brooklyn in the hundreds of thousands. They all want my chocolate, demand my chocolate. Large dark chocolate eggs, filled with caramel, wrapped in gold foil; standard white chocolate eggs, no filling, wrapped in blue foil. And now we have our new gourmet range, with orders such as rosewater infused chocolate in shiny pink foil coming through in abundance through fax and emails. What is this gourmet? Rosewater? Pish!
The amount of extra work I’ve had to do makes me run out of breath at the thought of opening my eyelids in the morning. Everything is now sugar-free, fat-free, flavour-free. These health fanatics are spoiling it for everyone. Vegan, lactose, fructose. LIFE-tose. The chocolate business is out of control with all these additives.
I’m only one bunny, so what do I do? I eat. I eat, and I eat what I please, when I please. Third, forth, fifth helpings. Breakfast, mid-breakfast, brunch, lunch, mid-lunch, pre-dinner, dinner, supper and many snack and beverage breaks in-between. Dessert tops it all off. Eating is my comfort, my happy place and is something just for me.
This essay is senseless. It’s an utter mockery of who I am as a bunny and my brand in its entirety. Do I have the energy to get up every morning? Most likely no. Do I get breathless walking from my bed to the kitchen? Yes.
Look, if I’m being forced to be honest, sure, sometimes I over-eat here and there. Who doesn’t? Do I get winded from every meal? Not all the time. I just love a good sleep after my lunches and dinners. Because I can! Life’s just easier in bed.
The only person I get along with is Nick, as in the Saint. He gets me. A few years ago I was forced by my boss, Mr. White, into going to an information night for Over-Eaters. We were seated beside each other and we instantly clicked. We bonded over our mutual love and respect for all things delicious and covered in a sugary glaze, his weakness being candy-canes. His misses had forced him to attend. She wanted him to shed a few kilos in order to help around at the house. My work was just starting to get “concerned.” What’s with it with everyone wanting us to change? Some of us don’t want to.
We bonded over our commonality, really hitting it off. No one else really understands or gets it like Nick does. Can you believe this guy is Santa, too? I remember the first time we really connected, a week after the information session. We met up secretly for milkshakes and donuts. After my third caramel and malt milkshake, we laughed over the fact that we both couldn’t fit into our clothes anymore. During our second box of freshly backed Original’s, Nick confessed to me that he’s only jolly when he’s eating, and I agreed with him, never having identified with someone like this before.
We now eat together often, sharing many chocolates and candy-canes over long chats. He’s the only person that I’ve ever had a laugh with. No one but Nick agrees that life can be hard, that it takes too much energy.
I hope this document is going to be confidential.
I wonder how long this Over-Eaters thing lasts. I tried a few diets, I was on the Curds and Weigh diet for a few days … Mmm, okay hours. It didn’t last. Will this one?
What’s for lunch?
Until my next meal,
Contact: firstname.lastname@example.org for any Buddy related inquires/to order.
- The next Christmas Misfit debuts next week on The Knight Life.
- This narrative was edited by my wonderful editor: Kayla Marie Murphy. Contact: email@example.com for any inquiries.
- Creative Credit for this image goes to Kushal Singh, whose Instagram you can follow at: www.instagram.com/kaleidoschopikush. Thank you so much Kushal for this wonderful collaboration!
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