[s 14] FluffyRocker's World Tour

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Wynn and PB

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Nov 19, 1999, 3:00:00 AM11/19/99
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Wynn believed in giving a bun a, like, sporting chance. Well, like, kind of.
OK, so, like, not really, most of the time, but this time things were
different. <airypawwave> This time other buns were involved, and, more to
the point, one of them was FluffyRocker. <dreamyeyes> So, like, much as she
would like to kind of totally surprise cute little Siddums at Algonquin and
crash the concert he was planning with a real class act, <giggle> she wasn't
entirely sure that it could come off OK without some sort of advance warning.
And the last thing she was going to risk at this point was Rocker's being
embarrassed or angered or, like, even inconvienced a little.
<totallyinlovefluff> So, like, while it didn't bother her a whit that
Punkbunny was going to land in Algonquin Warren without the slightest warning,
it only seemed prudent that Algonquin should know that Rocker was coming.
Not that that would be a problem. Like, a simple call should suffice. The
Mover, as with all Movers, was equipped with the main numbers of all the
warrens, and it would be a way simple thing to track down Sid from there...

***

"Hey, Mallow? Can you give me a paw here?"

"Fluff off. I'm on break."

"Aw, come on. Have a heart. I've got this ditzy doe on the international
line, here, and I sure as Inle can't figure out how to direct her call."

"Well, who is she calling for? It can't be that hard."

"She says she wants 'Sid'."

"Burrow?"

"She doesn't have one. Nor section nor quarter, either. Just 'Sid'.
She seems to think I should know who she means."

"Have you informed her of how many *thousands* of buns live here?
Who is this doe, anyway?"

"Well, she says she's Wynn."

"Oh, right, and I'm Daphnie. Look, why don't you just 'accidently'
disconnect and then jam the circuits for..."

"No, wait... Uh huh... militiabun..."

"Oh, *that* narrows it down. <rolleyes>"

"Shut up, Mallow. Uh huh... ToeJam?"

"What's that, some sort of jelly? Sounds good!"

"No, it's one of our local bands. At least, that's what she says.
Do you know anything about a concert?"

"Oh, that's what this is about? Yeah, I've heard something about
it. Here, I'll take it. <clickclick> Yes? Yes, Miss, an honor,
I'm sure. <rolleyes> Yes, I can direct your call. Here you go.
Have a fluffy day."

"Thanks, Mal. <relievedfluff> What was all that about, anyway?"

"Oh, some of the local youngbuns are getting together some sort
of music-fest. 'International Lapine Spirit Gathering', they're
calling it. That must be one of the bands. They haven't a brain
in their heads, these musicians. <snort>"

"Well, at least that's solved. Now, as long as you're here
anyway..."

"Fluff off."

****

Thistledown considered himself a reasonably patient and sensible
bun. But he had certainly been being put to the test these past few
weeks. <ruffle> It was no small job booking and tracking the
availability of meeting halls in a warren as huge as Algonquin,
and it didn't help that the militia was notoriously bad at making
up its mind. <poof> He, like, many of the buns at Algonquin, had
gotten a bit complaisent over the years, and saw no need for all of these
military escapades, especially ones that messed up his neat schedules.
Just the other day he had had to bump a group from the Otter Park
Meeting Hall because of some military alert nonsense. One little
unfounded rumor of a Fudd offensive, of all things, and three of his
meeting halls are promptly requisitioned! Fortunately, the Main Hall of
the warren had been free on that date, so he had been able to put the
Lapine Spirit whatevers in there, but it had been a chance occurance,
and that sort of thing just ruffled his fluff. And now some doe was
calling asking about some buck and nattering about some additional act
for the silly Lapine whatevers that shouldn't have been his problem
in the first place. It was all highly irregular, and he hated things
that were irregular. And he had better things to do with his time than
to try to track down one of the juvenile deliquents that was arranging
this concert business in the first place. Far easier just to write it
into the schedule and forget about it. He punctiliously alloted an
extra half hour of "booked" time to the Main Hall for this "FluffyRocker".
Bunny Rock, indeed. Humph. To his mind the young kits were far better
off listening to Barney.

He saw no need to mention this to security, or to the other bands, or
indeed, to anybun at all.

--
Wynn and Punk Bunny!!

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