The Truth About Rabbits

The car is black, devouring gravel on a side road to the lake. Two men ride inside, both wearing wrinkled suits and loose neckties. The driver tightens his grip on the wheel. Lined up in the headlights, a jackrabbit freezes, then bolts for the shoulder.

The two-day beard in the passenger seat smacks the driver on the back of his head.

"What the hell was that for?"

Two-day Beard crosses his arms. "The rabbit, you jackass."

"I missed him."

"He ran."

The driver frowns. "When'd you go soft?"

"Shut up."

"'fr