Story of the Rabbit
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there lived a beautiful rabbit named Kenny. Kenny resided in the 7-Eleven in LKF munching happily on discarded candy bars and drinking all the Pocari Sweat he could get his little paws on. His fur was a luxurious black, dark as an Asian girl’s eye makeup, and he would hop up and down LKF, sometimes inadvertently in tune to Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro.” This was a very relaxing life, as Kenny was a true Hong Kong rabbit: perfectly content among crowds, trash, rudeness and dirt, but strangely only complaining when the temperature dropped below 15 Celsius.
Happy Chinese New Year everyone! I wish you health, prosperity and wealth in the Year of the Snow Deer! Actually, it’s the Year of the Rabbit, but I bet you didn’t know that. You probably thought the rabbit was just in some “Sex in the City” episode, or a cute animal that Italian people eat as stew. But the Year of the Rabbit is much more than that. The true origins come from this wonderful Chinese fairy tale that I just made up.
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there lived a beautiful rabbit named Kenny. Kenny resided in the 7-Eleven in LKF munching happily on discarded candy bars and drinking all the Pocari Sweat he could get his little paws on. His fur was a luxurious black, dark as an Asian girl’s eye makeup, and he would hop up and down LKF, sometimes inadvertently in tune to Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro.” This was a very relaxing life, as Kenny was a true Hong Kong rabbit: perfectly content among crowds, trash, rudeness and dirt, but strangely only complaining when the temperature dropped below 15 Celsius.
One day, among the usual “doot” of Octopus cards and the “cha-ching” of the resulting sale of personal information to soulless corporations that follows, Kenny heard an unusual voice. “I’d like to buy your rabbit,” a man asked the 7-Eleven clerk. Kenny began to worry: the man was wearing a non-Ferragamo tie, so he wasn’t a banker; but he had a nice suit, so he wasn’t a lawyer. For a second, Kenny wondered if he was just a simple heir to a tycoon’s fortune, but quickly dismissed the notion when he noticed the man wasn’t high on cocaine.
Luckily, the attendant was a true and loyal Hong Kong man and said, “I shall never sell Kenny; he’s been with me for 10 years!” Kenny leaped for joy, and also because “Alejandro” was playing. “I’ll give you HK$100,” the man said. “SOLD!” the attendant joyfully said, leaping up and down out of tune.
A scared Kenny was put in a Bonaqua cardboard box and given shrimp chips and a Time Out magazine to relieve himself on. He was put inside the back of a sedan, which sped off down Wyndham Street until it immediately smashed into another car, and the drunk driver started crying, exited and slapped a cop. Thankfully she was from a good family—so it was no big deal and the system is like totally legit and everything’s fine.
When Kenny came to, he was sitting with the man in the suit in the cable car to the Big Buddha. “What the hell is going on?” Kenny asked the man. But since rabbits can only wiggle their noses, Kenny just looked adorable, and a bunch of mainland tourists took pictures of him in between spitting on the floor of the car.