Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit. He lived at the bottom of a deep, dark pit and lived on discarded anchovy tails.

This state of affairs made him most unhappy, as he was constitutionally inclined to prefer fresh air and a vegetarian diet. However, he had fallen down the pit long ago and had learned to be (in a despairing sort of way) grateful for the fact that he had anything to eat at all.

The anchovy tails came, as it happened, from a company that made Worcester sauce, though from the rabbit's point of view, they simply came from the Great Beyond. They arrived via a crack in the pit wall, accompanied by a trickle of gray water, and landed on his head.

To pass the time, the bunny made up stories about a band of fairy pelicans who made secret arrangements to smuggle the anchovy tails to him. They had ever so many adventures as they bravely defied their oppressors, the Giant, Corpulent Wolves, in order to keep him alive. The wolves, of course, had no interest in allowing the fairy pelicans to help a little rabbit, and in fact, if they had known of the rabbit's existence, they would surely have come and tear him to pieces. He was therefore in hiding until the glorious revolution came and he could walk freely under the sky once more.

One day, rather more anchovy tails and water fell on the rabbit's head than usual, distracting him from his reverie.

Then, after a pause, a quite remarkable quantity fell, all at once. They almost buried the poor little rabbit. But he soon discovered that the proportion of anchovy tails to water was such that he could actually climb on top of the pile, though it was a messy and slippery process. After he had reached the top, another big heap of anchovies fell on him, and he managed to climb to the top of those as well. This went on for some time, until the bunny was almost level with the anchovy-delivery crack. He saw that it was rather large and led into a pipe.

Part of the rabbit yearned to dash into the pipe, but his little rabbit soul also believed that the best thing to do in any uncertain situation was to huddle in a corner. An ominous rumble came from deep in the pipes, and he wanted even more intensely to hide, but he had waited in his pit for so long with no chance of escape. Oh! So torn was he! He took his paw back and crouched miserably on top of the pile of fish.

He put one paw into the pipe. The floor of the pipe was cold and wet. It vibrated disconcertingly.

Just then, from somewhere deep in the pipes came a little puff of air that smelled not of vinegar, molasses, sugar, soy, anchovies, tamarind, shallots, garlic, red onion and salt, but of the outdoors (or perhaps fabric softener). It stirred his tiny heart to action! The rabbit tensed his haunches, shut his eyes tight, and prepared to leap into the crack. As he did so, however, a valve burst somewhere in the system, and a tremendous torrent of anchovies and water burst through the wall. It was a veritable tsunami of fish tails and bilge that no sweet little rodent could possibly withstand.

Fortunately, at that very moment, an enormous white pelican swooped into the pit, picked him up by the scruff of the neck, and carried him into the sky. It took him to live in the newly liberated Land of Free Beasts. He declined to take part in any political activity or nation building, and concentrated his energy on eating all day long and growing very, very fat.

The End.