The Constant Rabbit

by Jasper Fforde

I was getting more flak for being friends with a rabbit than Connie and her noisy friend seemed to be getting for actually being rabbits. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and I didn’t like it.

‘It’s further evidence of satire being the engine of the Event,’

‘Or maybe it’s just satire for comedy’s sake and nothing else,’ added Connie, ‘or even more useless, satire that provokes a few guffaws but only low to middling outrage – but is coupled with more talk and no action. A sort of . . . empty cleverness.’

is that you, Mr. Fforde?

said Kent, who had taken on the young male human trope of being an expert on absolutely everything.

In a turnabout that no one expected after the 2008 crash, the second-largest group in prison after rabbits was now sociopathic investment bankers, corrupt representatives of ratings companies and dodgy corporate accountants.*