Tonight, the dust bunnies die.
After much pondering, I have decided that all dust bunnies should be sent to meet their makers. It is not that I find dust bunnies offensive, it is the fact that I don't understand them. Anything I don't understand, irritates me. Therefore, they must be eliminated.
I do not take this action without due consideration, I have spent many hours pondering dust bunnies and their function in this world.
First of all, other than their rates of reproduction, they have very little in common with other types of bunnies. Other bunnies have very prominent ears. Dust bunnies as far as I can tell are ear challenged. They have no apparent legs. Their mode of ambulatory progress remains a mystery to me. While they can be called furry, it is a uniformly gray, lack luster type of fur. If I could locate their nose, I am reasonably sure it wouldn't wiggle.
They do not live in burrows. They instead live under entertainment centers, couches and beds. I've yet to discover what they eat. There are no known dandelions growing within my house.
Worst of all, they taste nothing like other bunnies. As a matter of fact, they don't even taste like chicken. When ninety percent of all known edible substances taste like chicken, how is this possible? This puzzles me.
So, after reviewing the evidence listed above, and having heard nothing in their defense, I have decided to judge them guilty of irritating me and the sentence can be nothing short of capital punishment.
Ivan and I attacked the dust bunnies without warning. I swept the areas where Ivan, due to his bulk, couldn't reach, and Ivan, well ok, he got the dust bunnies under the dining room table.
It was total carnage. Beautiful, wonderful carnage. We pounced, clawed, chewed and savaged the condemned until Tiger Lily put an end to the chaos by whining until the two leggers entered the fray with a spray bottle. I'll smack her later.
Thus ended the night that will forever be known in dust bunny history as "The Night of The Culling"