My good friend and I were digging a hole just the other day when he asked me, “You’d think we’d’ve reached china by now.”
“We’ve been digging an hour,” I said.
“But it seems like forever, man.”
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Yeah, it is hot out here. Luckily we have the hose,” I said pointing over to the water spout. The hose looked as if it had melted.
“Yeah, see, I’m not a very picky guy, per se, but I’m not drinking water out of that,” he said
“I don’t think you could if you wanted to,” I mentioned.
We continued digging for a while when my friend said something that sounded like a personal joke, “We need the magic rabbit, man.”
“I don’t quite follow, but okay,” I said, looking puzzled.
“You know, magic rabbit from wonderland. Always running late, stuffing chicks down into holes and what not. Guy has got a killer vest; always rocking the silver pocket watch,too,” he said.
“Oh, I gotcha. –but, wait, how would he be useful again,” I asked.
“At the very least he could point us in the right direction of a real hole,” he said, peering down at our progress. He began patting the side of ours with a shovel, “Weak hole here wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“True,” I said, “but you have to admit it worth the time spent to appreciate it afterwards.”
“Why exactly are w—,” his words trailed, as did his attention way from the hole and towards the tree line. A rabbit could be seen grazing on what looked to be a piece of hayseed. “Dude, I found our rabbit,” he said, nudging my shoulder.
“Now, buddy, I know you want a magic wabbit,” I said in an adult’s child voice, “But magic isn’t real.”
“Bullshit,” he said, as if arguing with someone who didn’t believe in the ground they were standing on. “Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do if you fell down a rabbit hole.”
“Knowing my luck,” I said, nodding my head and rolling my eyes over in his direction, “I’d miss wonderland altogether as fall straight into Dante’s Inferno.”
“Good book reference. It’s almost as if you want whoever reads this to give the divine comedy a try.”
“What,” he said smiling.
“Whatever man, point is, if I fell down a rabbit hole, I would either hit the bottom of it with my feet still hanging halfway out or, I’d end up falling into wonderland’s underworld.’
“Dude,” he said, stroking his beard, “that’s one helluva story idea.”
He hopped out of the hole and spread his arms quickly, outlining an invisible title. “‘The Underworld of Wonderland.’ Do you realize how twisted that place would be?”
“Huh, well then” I said, not realizing I had the potential to ruin childhood dreams. “That actually does sound pretty awesome, and terrifying.”
“We need to go and work on it while the idea’s still fresh,” he said, tossing the shovel in the hole.”
“What about copyright laws,” I asked.
“There’s a loophole for everything now,” he said.
“Sounds good.” I tossed my shovel in the hole, and began a brisk walk to the house.
“By the way,” he said catching up to me, “why were we digging a hole?”
“Just something to do until we thought of something better,” I said casually.
He took in a breath with an angered expression. “It worked didn’t it,” I asked.
He let the breath go.
“No comment,” he said flatly.