Puff – “Hey Fluff, Linda’s new book, Hex Appeal, is out!”


Fluff (yawning while nibbling on a bit of licorice root)  — “I know. I saw it when I went to Target with Jazz.”


Puff (outraged) “You went to Target without me?”


Fluff – “You were attacking that vacuum thingy Krebs had made up to zap our poop, remember? And Jazz wasn’t going to wait around for you to finish killing it.”


Puff – “Oh yeah. Dumb thing didn’t even squawk when I pounced on it. But I can’t believe you went without me! Did you get anything for us?”


Fluff – “Jazz bought us some MilkBones.” Both bunny slippers brighten up since they love the crunchy dog bones “I tried to talk her into some Hershey Kisses, but she said no way. And she rearranged Linda’s book on the shelves and even put a few copies back in the Halloween section. They really should have put us on the cover.”


Both bunny slippers do their best bunny slipper pout.


Puff heads for the distinctive red and white bags and rummages through the contents. “A t-shirt that reads spooky,” his voice is muffled from the interior of the bag, “Pepperidge Farm Milanos, Halloween Oreos, some DVDs and CDs.” He backs out of the bag, pulling the bag of Oreos with his teeth. Tearing the bag open is a snap for his sharp teeth and the cookies scatter. Fluff immediately moves in for his share. Two minutes later, two slippers lay on their backs with bloated bellies pointing upward. Each discreetly belched.


Fluff, with a soft groan – “Jazz is going to be royally pissed we ate all her cookies.”


Puff – “We’re saving her from herself.” He managed to roll over and return to the bag. “Let’s see what Linda said about us.”


Fluff, refusing to move – “It’s all about us being accused of eating Willie, the Wereweasel at the boardwalk.” He makes a gagging sound.


Puff nods as he pulls out the bag of Milano cookies along with a brightly covered book. “Yeah, like we’d eat a Wereweasel. We do have our standards.” He noses the book open. “We would have been fine if you hadn’t coughed up that button from Willie’s shirt.”


Fluff vigorously defends himself. – “If I’d known it was his, I wouldn’t have gone near it.” He sidled over closer. Pretty soon the bunny slippers were engrossed in the story of witches, vampires, ghosts and bunny slippers.


Fluff – “Hey look! She even spelled our name right!”


Puff smacked him with the tip of his ear. “Of course she did! We told her what to write, didn’t we?”


Fluff shrugged. “Then you’d think we’d be the authors, not her.”


“You’d think so, but Jazz said no way.” Puff looked around. “Let’s go to Linda’s house. Maybe she’s got cookies too.”

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