WARNING: this short story may be bad for your health if you are unsufferably smart and like to pick at every detail. This harm may manifest itself in many ways, including fists, feet, and other unpleasant blunt objects. I myself issue no hard feelings towards the critical, but be warned, no one else really cares.
I am absolutely sure there are plotholes and things that just don't make sense. It is meant to be that way.
And as a footnote:
FYI: If you do not understand how the Protector died, this story is not for you.
(This story is totally rated G, to a previously unheard of extent. Bite me, Disney!)
was singing. Flowers bloomed and trees grew tall in the Forest, and random, cute,
furry little animals made their homes around the leafy castle of the Protector of the Cute
and Furry. But beyond this facade of peace, happiness, and all around good will towards
life, there sat an evil bunny King overlooking it all. His name was King Buhni, and he
was about to do something horrible, the worst thing he could think of doing.
Instead of mentioning this unutterable act, I will give you a few facts: King Buhni
was not cute, or furry, or even preciously wide-eyed and grotesque. King Buhni was
pale and gray-skinned, with one eye black and beady, the other yellow-green and the size
of a baseball. Perhaps because of this, perhaps not, King Buhni hated life.
Now that I have deviated your attention the appropriate amount of time, I regret to
inform you that the Protector of the Cute and Furry has passed away. Not only that, it is
imperative I mention he was not only a Protector; he was also Ruler of the Average and
Slightly Hairy. Among this category were the humans of the kingdom, now left
leaderless, who were gathering around the castle.