Diary From The Carrot Union

Chapter 4: #Violet

So by this point, you might realise that my entire diary is all one colossal steaming pile of old dung, feigned as an attempt at creating a barely readable work that is probably worth less than the paper it is written on. What's worse is I'm not that interesting either.

Ain't a tough-ass blond space cowboy with a 50'cal plasma revolver, ain't a scorpion prince with a Lamborghini, ain't a vampiric bad boy that glitters like gold, ain't a hairy werewolf with dagger-sharp jawline, but I am, a small white rabbit.

Enough talking shit, so when we left off, I hit that Joseph kid with the bottle of vohd-ka, and the next thing I found the militsiya tailing back my ass to arrest me for committing an act of violence. Short story long, I was immediately arrested, heh.

Comrade Zero heard about the news and offered the officers bail, but that didn't convince the officers to let me go. The totally-not-rigged trial's coming tomorrow, but the government has sent an attorney to visit me and give me legal assistance.

I guess it's better to get on their good side instead of resisting. Cause be damned does the police like it when you say no to them, but nothing has prepared me for what is gonna come.

Because of coincidence, bad luck, or the officer's fiendish delight, I was put in a cell with this...Thing...

First of all, it is clear that she's a girl, a woof-woof with black and brown fur and long legs, and second of all it is clear that she came out from a mental asylum or something, as she got streaks of red hair, a telltale sign of a Zadrota, and I hate them.

But boy, isn't she tall, for a woof-woof, compared to myself.

And the only thing I felt the moment I stepped my furry feet in was the smell of fragrant sweets. That is when the door slammed shut, and I was left with this thing...

Anything could happen...

"Heyya, Mr Leon!" The girl said in its sharp and earpiercing light voice

Well, at least say hello Leon, I thought to myself. I mean, just look at those canines. What are the chances this completely civilized and kindhearted lady suddenly snaps and opens up a new pizdec on my throat?

"Umm, hey!" I stammered, waving my hand."
But then that girl proceeded to lift me as if I'm a baby boy, squeezing me close to her furry arms as if she's trying to execute me by asphyxation, but of course that will just be wishful thinking.

"My, my! You're so fluffy and white!"

What the flying hell? I thought. I was surprised by the wolf's sudden change of instinct, but nonetheless, feigned that embarrassment with more anger

"Yeah, could you stop? I haven't got all morning!"

"Yea, sorry, sir!" She put me back, "It's just...You're so cute!!"

Cute? Damn, does it feel like a big punch on the gut? Out of all things, being told that I'm cute is my least favourite. It is condescending, especially when you're in your thirties.

"Stop, please!" I cringed.

And that accursed wolf laughed before going back to her seat. I noticed a briefcase next to her and a pair of round glasses with gold frames. She quickly came back and sat close-legged.
"Alright, I was just messing with ya, Mr Fluffy, now let's talk the entire thing over."

Seriously, what is going on, huh?

"What are you talking about? You got an escape plan or something?"

The wolf scoffed, "Certainly, though I would prefer a legal way to guarantee your prolonged freedom here."

"W-what do you mean? You're my attorney or something?"