THE TALE OF THE FLAPPY, FLOPPY BUNNY

The Land Rover drew to a halt in the middle of the lane. The driver, Greg, could see something moving about in the road up ahead.
"What is that thing?" Greg asked nervously. He did not like the countryside - it always gave him the heebie-jeebies.
Carl, Greg's passenger, craned his neck for a closer look. "I can't tell," he responded. "Drive a little closer."
Greg did not move. Carl looked over at him. His driver looked like he was having some sort of internal struggle.  
"Well?" Carl prompted impatiently.
Greg finally seemed to come to a decision, put the Land Rover into gear and slowly edged it forward until the two men could see the thing in the road.
"It's a rabbit," Carl stated. "A large rabbit, I grant you, but it's just a rabbit."
Greg was not convinced. "It's not moving like a normal rabbit would," he observed. "What if it's...undead?"
Carl shook his head in disbelief. "Greg. There is no such thing as an undead rabbit!"
Greg wouldn't take his eyes off the furry lump in the road.  "How do you know? Back in the days when the internet was working, you could go online and there were loads of pictures of zombie bunnies on there." He gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"They were drawings!" Carl declared.
"Based on real rabbits," Greg suggested.
"Says who?" Carl was exasperated. "Did you ever, even once, see an actual photograph of an undead bunny?"
Greg did not respond. He was pointing at the creature in the lane. "Look, it's moving."
They both looked. The rabbit was shuffling in a very clumsy way. It did not look healthy, and you could tell even from this distance that there was something wrong with it's eyes. The rabbit tried to hop in the direction of the Land Rover, but the movement turned out to be more like a stilted lurch, with a bit of lopsided thing going on for good measure.
"Tell me that is normal for a rabbit," said Greg, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Carl squinted as he studied the rabbit more closely. "I tell you Greg - there is no such thing as an undead rabbit," he stated firmly. "That thing has probably got myxomatosis."
"Myxoma-what?" said Greg.
"Myxomatosis," Carl repeated. He tutted. "Do you townies know nothing? It's a disease which rabbits suffer from. They go blind and stuff and then eventually die. The best thing we could do for that rabbit, if it is suffering from myxomatosis, is drive over it."
Greg couldn't believe his ears. "Drive over it?" he repeated incredulously.
"Yes. Put it out of its misery."
Greg shook his head. "And what if you're wrong, and it really is an undead rabbit? It will just get up off the ground again, stagger down the road after us and limp along until it hunts us down and kills us!"
Carl almost laughed. "You have a spectacular imagination,"  he said. "Now, we've got a long drive ahead of us, so are you going to drive over it or shall I?"
Greg fell silent.  
"Myxomatosis, you say?" Greg said eventually.
"Yes," said Carl. "The rabbit goes blind and gets lumps around his head and his goolies. He'll have gone all listless and developed a fever, and sooner or later he'll pop his clogs. If you drive over him, he'll have a quick death."
"How do you know it's a he?" asked Greg.
"Greg..." Carl growled threateningly.
"Ok, ok," said Greg. He put the Land Rover into gear again. "But I do this under protest."
Greg drove the vehicle forward until it was almost upon the rabbit. Greg applied the brakes suddenly, as if he had changed his mind at the last moment, but then just as suddenly drove forward and squashed the rabbit. Then he drove on for another few yards before bringing the Land Rover to a halt.

***

Behind the Land Rover, in the middle of the road, one squashed rabbit lay motionless and unmoving.  It was not breathing and was clearly dead.

***

"I need to go back and check that it's dead," Greg declared.
"But what if it's an undead rabbit?" Carl mocked, wide-eyed and mimicking Greg's voice.
Greg stared him down. "Are you coming?" he asked, as he undid his seatbelt and made to climb out of the Land Rover.
"Of course," Carl responded, undoing his own seatbelt and leaping into action.

***

In the road, one squashed rabbit remained motionless and unmoving. Two figures approached it from a Land Rover, one more keenly than the other. The first figure reached the dead rabbit several seconds before the other figure, and bent down low to study the bloody mess in the road.
"There you go," declared Carl. "One dead rabbit. You did the right thing Greg."
Greg stood behind Carl and glanced down once, very briefly, at the remains of the rabbit. "You're sure it's dead?" he asked, keeping his eyes firmly on the horizon.
"Absolutely," Carl confirmed.
"Good. Come on then. Let's get out of here."
Carl got to his feet, stretched and then headed back towards the Land Rover. Greg was already way ahead of him and climbing back into the vehicle. Behind Carl, the rabbit remained squashed, unmoving and dead on the floor.
As Carl climbed into the Land Rover, Greg shifted the vehicle into first gear. "Ready?" he asked and, without waiting for a response, he drove away briskly.
Carl glanced back over his shoulder towards the squashed rabbit in the road. Still not moving. It was clearly dead. As the Land Rover approached the top of the hill, Greg also glanced back, using his rearview mirror. Yes, the rabbit was clearly dead.

***

As the Land Rover drove away, one dead rabbit in the middle of the road remained dead.

***

As the Land Rover disappeared over the top of the hill, one dead rabbit remained dead.

***

As the sounds of the Land Rover faded into the distance, one dead rabbit peeled itself up off the road, swore, and began to hobble off in the direction the Land Rover had taken.
"April Fool, suckers!" rasped the rabbit.  
It had a long journey ahead.