The preferred method of killing a rabbit is dislocation of the neck; the rabbit is held by the rears and head, stretched at full length, and then pop – with a sharp pull, the head is bent backwards.
I prefer more of a white-meat than a gamey flavour when it comes to wild rabbit, so I’ll take about three hours to soak the freshly-skinned rodent in a pot of salt water.
Then, we dress.
We start the blade at the tailbone and make our way through the skin – then the pelvic bone!
Here, you’ll place the finger under the blade to avoid cutting any valuable organs – they’ll play as accoutrement to this decadent stew. You’ll then reach into the body cavity now; we need to get that needless esophagus, windpipe, and entrails out of our way!
It’s most important that we’re patient and gradual. It’s imperative that we get everything out of that piece of meat that was taken from us – spare no expense and no time in doing everything it takes to smile after every single succulent bite.
And to tie it together, I’ve got us a bottle of Mollydooker to ring in the celebration.
Straight from South Australia, now sat on a table – between two of the greatest hunters in history.
And even better, the table is right here of all places – My Toybox.
So drink up, Chip, and keep an open mind. I knew from the moment that I opened the door and let you in, that you weren’t here for the festivities.
You just wanted the bunny, right?
Unbelievable.
You were going to keep all of that bloody vengeance and meat to yourself and here I am – just obligated to turn over Dave to the one that couldn’t get the job done – and for what reason? Because you thought first possession is the only possession?
How selfish of you, Chip.
We both know that if it wasn’t for me playing as your second-row lackey, Dave would still be nothing but another tally mark in the number of evasive species disgracing our pastures.
And that’s all he is – evasive, and the main act in a tremendous dining experience that we could easily both enjoy.
Thing is…
I don’t like selfish people.
This house doesn’t either. Not one bit.
But there’s a silver lining to it all – the existence of guilt! Yay!
In this wilderness, I have every intention of boiling Dave – and you will enjoy him whether it’s through your own choice or the choice that truly must be at this point in our extraordinary relationship.
The intuitive part of me says that this isn’t something you want to subject yourself to – you’re like the little boy that keeps spitting out his green beans. Interestingly enough, that spoon just relentlessly keeps going in your mouth though. Yum, Yum!
You couldn’t live with that kind of guilt, Chip.
We both know that.
And at the moment that you knock on my door, you will have made it abundantly clear that this is nothing –
Nothing – but the truth, right Mate?
So let it be so – unfold your napkins and may dinner be served.
No bunnies were harmed.
Hahahahaha. That’s silly.
Yet.