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A synopsis
It's 2009 and rabbits rule the world. Stoats and weasels, and all foxes (unless they are in the Armed Forces) are banned. Nothing is allowed to fly lower than 200 metres over any burrow.
It is all because of the organic carrot. Geoff Ogden, farming in Wetwang, Yorkshire; a village seemingly accidentally in the West; wanted a more virile one; one with more eye-appeal; especially to women.
George grows an experimental field of Mutant Afterglow a new line from Sellafield, and waters them with Coca-Cola.
The carrots are a bit limp, and don't live up to expectations, but young Sidney Brown eats one and disappears. No one minds this too much, because he's never been popular; but he does it at School, having missed his breakfast, and some find that worrying .
The Government seals off the field, at Wetwang, and no-one is allowed in or out. For a long time nobody else notices and, when they do, they are told it is rabies.
This gives the Government the excuse to kill all the local wild-life, including many of the residents, just in case any of them might be carrying the carrot.
Soon after Wetwang is completely demolished, local roads are re-routed to avoid the area, and each of the surviving residents is give £31-75p and resettled on Christmas Island. There is little media interest because Victoria has just had twins and David says that only one of them is his.
The Government sends trucks to collect the carrots. They are disguised as a Film Unit. Even Spielberg trundles along. In interviews he says the film, originally to have been shot in Wales, is a religious film about strange goings-on in the countryside; it will be called, Save my Sheep .
The Government is, of course, of the European Superstate. Tony took the British Government, except John, there when he became the first President. He has married George and together, BTR (Before the Rabbits) they ruled the world.
Obviously Tony realises the potential of the carrots. There are plenty of people he wants to make disappear. Initial trials are made on the media and are very successful; both the Daily Mail, and the BBC, have to be completely re-staffed.
Tony has a problem: there are only so many carrots. Where to grow more? That is the question. That night in bed Tony talks it over with George: "you can have Ohio" says George: "I have never liked the place."
But now we must go back a bit, maybe even six months, to when Rupert and Hazel Barchester-Bunny of Celandine Burrow, near Geoff Ogden's farm, first basked in the afterglow of a nibble at one of his juicy young virgin carrots.
You see the carrots have completely the opposite effect on rabbits. And now Rupert & Hazel are very big bunnies indeed! And bunnies have lots of baby bunnies very quickly indeed. And it all starts with the strangest of road traffic accidents down the A63 .
"Mind that rabbit," says Myrtle.
"Why," says Harry, "it's only a rabbit."
And that is Harry's, and Humanity's, last big mistake
CHAPTER ONE - IN THE COLD LIGHT OF DAWN
So far they'd found Myrtle's spectacles and false teeth in one large round dung-ball and Harry's head in another.
"Bloody hell!" said Big Bob, the head of Rumpshire's Scenes of Crime Unit, as his team members cracked open yet more of the things that they had already nicknamed Christmas puddings: this could take forever.
"But you get a lot more than just a silver sixpence in these;" said young Sally Blunt.
The crash-site had been found just after 3 a.m and they'd been combing the woods since dawn. The night shift had been kept on and now they, most of the early turn , and a bus-load of every Saturday and Sunday off (ESSO) men from Headquarters, were grumbling their way through the undergrowth. It was 7 a.m. and they'd found thirteen balls.
"Whatever passed these must have an arse on it on them like my missus," said Bob.
Sam Flint, Detective Chief Inspector, and, at least until some of his senior brethren could be persuaded to turn out into the cold early morning air, the man leading the investigation, was not amused. It had taken nearly a month to get that new young typist into bed and now this.
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Big Bob had his big shiny new mobile lab wagon on site. It had been either that or a new chopper for the Chief. The Chief was leaving in a month or so and didn't like the bloke taking over: "So you have your wagon," he'd said to Bob.
The car was crumpled up against a tree. The horn had sounded for quite a while and it was this that had woken old Miss Marlow at the Vicarage. Thankfully the battery was now flat but the bloody mess that was one of Harry's feet was still jammed under the clutch. There were two separate piles of reddy-brown stained glass, apparently from the driver's and front passenger's, side windows that were lying just outside the car on the frosted grass.
There was a large rabbit-shaped hole in the front windscreen but no rabbit.
No human presence had been found in the car but there had been a small, and very excited, long wire-haired dachshund on the back seat. Fortunately the dachshund had been restrained in one of the new Fidosafe harnesses you will have seen on TV. He seemed OK but, on the principle that it was better to be safe than sorry, he had been taken off to the RSPCA for a bit of counselling.
"We'll need a lot more information from that dog." Sam had said, adding, " Constable Blacking, you go with him. Don't let him out of your sight and, if he should say anything, you make damn sure than you write it down. I also want to know the exact minute that he is ready for interview."
"OK Boss:" Alf Blacking was pleased; his feet were freezing: these early morning starts will be the death of me! Only two months now and he'd done his thirty years and it'd be goodbye Mr. Plod! As for the dachshund and that well it couldn't be worse that the retriever he'd had to speak to a few months back
Suddenly it got darker: "Shouldn't be doing that said Big Bob it's supposed to be getting lighter;" There were no thicko's allowed in his department!
"Could be something to with that great big evil looking black cloud," said Sam but his mind was far away: "something helluva strong must have dragged them out of the car." Mixed with one pile of glass, on the grass, was part of one sleeve and a trouser leg from what had probably been quite a nice suit. On the other side of the car a brassiere was hanging on the passenger side mirror with some writing inside it. Myrtle, Happy Christmas 1983 , it read.
Suddenly the patter of falling rain came from the dried up Autumn leaves that still remained on the trees above them; and then the noise got much louder as the bigger drops reached the crisp golden brown carpet that also covered the ground:
"Sod it and Bollocks," said Bob.
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It was hard to believe that it was a mere six hours since Myrtle, Harry and Diablo had left the Cat & Fiddle and the Annual Beckenham Dachshund Appreciation Society s Dinner & Dance. Diablo had been awarded a real silver trophy that would now be sent away to have his name engraved on it.
Youngsters didn't seem to fancy dachshunds these days and most of the Society's members were getting on. Myrtle and Harry cheered themselves up by remembering how awful it had been after the War. Even Diablo's great-grandfather had had to be rescued from a Guy Fawkes bonfire just outside Margate. If they'd got over that they could get over anything - couldn't they?
As would be determined when Big Bob's team later opened up the thirty third ,and forty seventh dung-balls, respectively, Harry had been on the orange juice all night because of his liver; whilst Myrtle had, uncharacteristically, but only because of the extended hours, indulged in a third gin. After the Presentation Ceremony had taken place Diablo was given his usual half of mild.
"Mind that rabbit," said Myrtle
"Why?" said Harry, "it's only a rabbit."
And that was Harry's, & Humanity's, last big mistake .
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