Classical Bunnyfly

It was one of those days. Both women took turns screaming at the air whenever they got off the phone. The full moon was at least a week away, so that couldn't be it. But for whatever reason, every single person calling in today was like a trip to the dentist. Either they wouldn't listen, or couldn't comprehend, or were just stubborn and continued insisting on the impossible. Each time a call ended they would check to confirm it was the only call, then scream as loud as possible.

Then a bunnyfly landed on the counter space between desks. He had a long, flowing wig that invoked images of Beethovan and Bach. No creature that small should have an attitude so large. He could have looked down his nose at royalty. The tiny conductor's baton was expected, but the coat tails and crevat were really just going overboard with the entire theme.

As the most recent call ended, both bewildered women stared at the little bunnyfly. He tapped his baton on the counter as they both got the idea. Hands raised as high above his head as they'd go, he paused before bringing them crashing down for the first note.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

The scream turned into giggles as he was blown backwards, summersaulting into the wall behind. With the dignity of a cat he picked up the wig, found his baton, bowed his goodbye and left.

The giggles subsided and with renewed strength to get through the work day both women brought their attention back to the computers.

"What I want to know is: Where did he find the wig?"

~