The Egg Laying of Mrs. Easter Bunny

Chapter 1

Buttercup wasn't a normal brown and white speckled bunny rabbit. Sure she looked like a normal bunny rabbit, hopping around the farm all cute and fuzzy, but this cute and fuzzy bunny rabbit had a strange obsession.

On the farm, there were many animals, cows, pigs, horses, but the one animal that caught Buttercup's attention the most was the chickens.

Everyday she would pass by the chicken pen as they laid their eggs. Stepping inside, she'd hear their squawks of sheer agony every time a new one came. And these squawks were just about her favorite sound in the entire world, filling her with such emotion, she could barely contain it.

"What do you want?" said one hen glaring at her.

Buttercup sat down on the floor, looking straight at all the nests lining the walls. "Nothing, just came to watch."

All the hens grumbled at this. The hens weren't too thrilled about Buttercup sitting there watching, but whenever one tried to get up to peck her out of there, the egg that was building inside her would come, and she'd give a squawk of agony before collapsing in her nest in exhaust.

"Do you know how unlucky you are to be you?" she asked. Suddenly, a grin lit her face, "And by unlucky, I mean it would be so hilarious to be there where you're sitting, you know, doing what you're doing." A look of longing came to her face.

Yes, she just loved the idea of what it must be like to lay an egg. She couldn't help but wonder, how must it feel to be a one of them hens, knowing that by simply being female, she was subjected to such unbearable pain.

Even though she was a bunny, and not a hen, she knew her body worked a similar way, if not a little different, it just came in the form of live young, and not an egg. The self-consciousness over knowing she was capable of such vulnerability somehow activated some sense of humor deep inside her - the side of her that was part sadist, who enjoyed seeing others suffer the extreme agonies of labor, then realizing she was also part of that same spectrum just in another field.

Another hen squawked, and Buttercup snickered a laugh over her own female predicament.

Yeah, egg laying and birth was kind of an insult to females of all species. But Buttercup was a female. Why did that "insult" kind of made her love being herself so much more?

One sensitive hen sat in her nest shivering. "I'm not ready for this, I'm not ready..."

Her neighbor put a wing over her shoulder in comfort. "Don't worry, you can do this."

Suddenly, the sensitive hen screamed as the egg was laid, "Ah! I can't take it! I can't take it!" Folding into her nest in self-regret.

"Easter, bet you're excited for that," Buttercup said, thinking of the Holiday coming up in just a few days, she wondered what the Easter Bunny thought of eggs given that hiding them had become his signature trademark, maybe all bunnies had a thing for eggs. "Every egg for the children to find on Easter morning" she continued "comes at the expense of pain to you gals." Buttercup suppressed the laugh she could feel building inside her.

"Okay, that's enough!" yelled one hen, but as she stood up full of fury, her egg came, and with a squawk, she was leveled back into her nest.

But still, the hen was not defeated, still folded over, she looked at Buttercup trying to hold a defiant expression through her face twisted in agony. "Maybe they'll have plastic eggs this year."

Oh, that expression was too good, the pain was obviously very real, separated from her only by the space that divided one individual from another, so close, but eternally out of her reach.