“There is always room for improvement,” the angel said.
“Right,” the rabbit said; “If you say so.”
“I do,” the angel said; “I do say so.”
“Rrriiiight…” the rabbit said, scratching its ear.
“Wouldn’t you rather escape from that cage?” the angel asked.
“I don’t know,” the rabbit said; “There’s water here, and straw, and about half a carrot left. I’m cool.”
“Wouldn’t you rather escape from that cage??!!” the angel repeated – and then it clicked its fingers.
The cage disappeared.
“Where’s my carrot?” the rabbit complained.
“There’s no pleasing some people,” the angel said and then it closed its eyes, thinking of mangers, and wise men and stuff.
The rabbit went looking for its carrot – and then it forgot about the carrot; and then…
“Oy!” the angel shouted; “Don’t do that, you stupid…!”
Too late: the rabbit had bitten down on the electric cable that led from the wall socket to the tree.
The rabbit and the angel screamed.
The rabbit stopped screaming pretty damn fast but went on smouldering. Bits of brightly burning fur slowly floated up and then settled down on the branches of the tree.
The angel went on screaming for a good bit longer, till the flames reached the top of the Christmas tree, where it sat perilously perched, with bulging, smoke-filled eyes.
Then the angel suddenly stopped screaming too.
Which was indeed an improvement.
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