Green Bunnyfly

Green flew erratically through the house. Each time he bumped into something, the hammer would knee-jerk reflex around into whatever he bumped into. He wasn’t angry. It wasn’t rage or emotion that caused his hammer to bash into various objects around the house; he had a hammer. Hammers are used to hit things. Why else would he have a hammer if not to hit things with it? Thankfully, his hammer was made from a small stick plunged into a pencil eraser. He swung it like a sledge, but so far had done no damage. Neither the TV, the 2 liter of soda, the couch arm, the light bulb hanging from the fan, the door knob, the tea kettle, the basketball, the pillow, the roll of toilet paper, the towel, or the shower curtain had any signs of being pummeled by Green, although the tea kettle made a fun noise each time it was hit.

Green flew up to the bathroom mirror to see if it needed wacking. He bumped into a tube of toothpaste and instinctively swung the hammer over his head and to land heavily onto the metallic cover, as heavily as only a pencil eraser swung by a three ounce bundle of enthusiasm can. It left a dent.

He looked at the dent. He looked closer at the dent. He swung the hammer again, leaving another dent which needed looking at. Green’s eyes grew wide as his tiny bunnyfly face lit up in joyous comprehension.

The next morning Our Heroine fumbled her way into the bathroom, half awake and slowly gaining momentum for the day. She stared at the toothpaste, then woke The Man with a “What the hell???” He joined her, staring at the toothpaste tube, every inch covered in dents. Dozens of tiny indentures pockmarked the entire tube. They both started laughing, and he leaned in close to whisper. “At least they don’t know how to unscrew the cap.”

An interested pair of green ears rose from behind the shower curtain.