My ex-missus decided we should get a Rabbit for the kids, now I never really wanted a Rabbit but, I got in from work one night and there was the Rabbit complete with hutch, so we put the Rabbit in the hutch and asked my eldest daughter what she wanted to call it "little Bill" came the reply after the kids program, so Little Bill it was.
Anyway after a few weeks of letting the freaking thing run riot round the living room, shitting all over the floor, i had it on my lap and the fuckin thing pissed on me then scratched my arm. "That's it I said, no more in the house it stays in the hutch" anyway after another few days I said to the missus "have you been keeping an eye on the Rabbit?, to which the reply came "yeah I fed it last Week", fuckin' hell said it'll be starving, better feed it so I went out to the hutch called it, could hear nothing, fearing the worst I opended the door and there was Little Bill lying there cold and stiff. Oh shit, we've killed the Rabbit I said. better get a bin bag and bury it, so I put it in the binn bag, dug a hole and buried it.
At this point the ex missus comes up with a headstone for it and scratched on the piece of rock was:-
Little Bill - VIP you can't make that stuff up. VIP I said it's RIP, Rest in Peace!