The Easter Bunny Suit

“Randel, would you like to share your story with us today?” asked the short, porky man at the front of the room. 

Randel’s head snapped up. He had been half asleep. 

“I don’t think I am ready for that yet,” said Randel, too quietly for the others in the room to hear. 

Everyone in the room was like Randel—at the end of their rope. Living day to day trying to hold themselves together, some homeless, some fresh out of prison, most trying to stay out of prison. Only one thing was for sure in this room, and it’s that none of them really wanted to be there. 

“NA, what a waste of my time,” thought Randel, just as the man to his right spoke softly. “I think you can do it, Randel. If it’s too hard, you can stop and speak to the group another time.” 

“All right, all right,” said Randel contemptuously, as he made his way up to the front of the room. Once there he looked out across the room. He had been thinking about sharing for weeks but could never find the right way to tell his story. He didn’t think the others would understand, because he had never told anyone about the last few months of his life. But then again all of them had it just as rough.

“Fuck it, my name is Randel Bottleneck and I’m an addict,” said Randel slowly but with a recognizable shake in his voice. 

“Hi Randel,” said the group in a simultaneous growl. Every meeting started like this. Some unlucky addict got up in front of the room and introduced themselves, and the whole group would greet them back lamely. With a little more confidence, Randel started his story. 

“It all started in April 2015. I was partying more than usual. Going out just about every night to my favorite same sex strip club downtown called the Rabbit Hole,” said Randel quickly. He was afraid that the group would judge him harshly for being gay, but no one’s face changed, and the room sat there quietly, listening. 

“Every night one of the dancers there was dressed as a pure white Easter bunny. Man, I loved the way he looked in that stupid suit,” said Randel with a nervous chuckle. “His name was Billy Bob Joel the 15th, and I fell in love with his pretty white tail instantly. I know we aren’t supposed to blame others for the things that have happened to us to land us here, but it feels right in this circumstance. This is the story of how I let him ruin my life.” 

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Randel woke up alone in his cockroach-infested apartment again, his head pounding from the night before. The all too familiar nauseating feeling growing in his stomach. Normally, this would be the start to a bad day, but today was different. As last night’s blurry moments came back to him, he remembered he had finally plucked up the courage to ask out the sexy bunny last night in the club. And it went better than he ever could have expected. They had a date scheduled for later that night, just a simple walk around the lake outside of town, then maybe a quick drink before Billy Bob had to go into work at the club. 

Randel was skeptical when Billy Bob said, “I don’t feel comfortable being seen outside this costume. Would you be okay with going out with me like this?” This piqued Randel’s interest and curiosity; he yearned to see what Billy Bob looked like under that suit, but seeing as the bunny costume was a big reason why Randel asked him out in the first place, he was willing to take the chance of being seen in public with a man dressed as the Easter bunny. 

Five o’clock rolled around, and Randel had never been this nervous for a date. His stomach did a backflip when he saw Billy Bob ride up on his powder blue tandem bicycle. Together they walked to the other side of the lake where there was a small bench just big enough for the two of them. 

“I guess I never realized how tall you are,”’ said Randel, laughing slightly and looking up into the big plastic eyes glued to the mask of the suit because he could not see Billy Bob’s real eyes no matter how hard he tried. Now that he thought about it, Randel didn’t know a single thing about what Billy Bob looked like under that seductive white fur. 

“What are you like, 6’7, 6’8?” asked Randel, smiling broadly. 

“Yeah, somewhere around there,” replied Billy Bob. His voice was warm and inviting, but Randel had no idea whether or not Billy Bob was smiling under the mask. After a somewhat awkward silence, a question just sort of spilled out of Randel’s mouth. 

“I see you working in the club all the time but, uh, do you do much partying yourself?” It was a lame question, but Randel was desperate to connect with Billy Bob. To Randel’s delight Billy Bob’s response was exactly what he was looking for. 

“Hell yeah, I party,” said Billy Bob as he reached into a pocket that Randel had no idea was there. This suit just came with one surprise after another. After rummaging around for a minute, Billy Bob pulled out one of the strangest Ziploc bags Randel had ever seen.

“What’s in there?” he asked

“Crack!” said Billy Bob with an undeniable tone of pure excitement and joy. Randel was completely caught off-guard. He had tried some harder drugs in his lifetime of partying, but never anything like this. But after a few moments of silence, a feeling or nervous excitement crawled up Randel’s body. He realized that he was prepared to do anything to make this strange love affair work. 

“Isn’t that shit like crazy addicting?” asked Randel, looking again into those big, glossy plastic eyes. 

“Of course it is, but then again, so am I,” replied Billy Bob as he took his free paw and placed it on Randel’s thigh. 

From that point on, Randel was hooked. Not on the drugs—at least not yet—but on Billy Bob. They spent the next few weeks together in a love- and drug-fueled happiness, going back and forth from Billy Bob’s tent deep in the woods and Randel’s apartment downtown. 

“Why do you stay all the way out here?” asked Randel one sunny evening. 

“I guess I like the quiet,” replied Billy Bob. 

“That’s strange,” thought Randel. The town they lived in was a pretty quiet place. But trusting his lover, Randel kept these thoughts to himself, not wanting to cause any problems. 

“Why do you wear the suit all the time? It’s got to be at least eighty degrees today. Aren’t you sweating your balls off?” asked Randel. This was another one of Randel’s attempts to get Billy Bob to take the suit off. Randel had become increasingly curious about what, exactly, was under all that soft fur.

“I never liked the way I looked, and as I got older, I always felt more comfortable hiding behind a costume. Stop trying to get me out of it,” replied Billy Bob harshly. 

“I’m sorry, I just like you and I want to know what you look like under the costume.” 

“I’ve got to head into work in a few minutes. Do you want to ride into town with me on the tandem so you can come by the club later?” asked Billy Bob as if Randel had said nothing. 

“Sure thing,” said Randel, a little put down by the fact that even after weeks of love and lust, Billy Bob still refused to change out of that costume in front of him. After a few miles of riding, they reached the edge of town. They were going much faster than usual on the bike, and it was starting to get a little wobbly with their increasing speed. Randel had noticed that Billy Bob had become increasingly more sketchy about going into town and even on a few occasions before that had flat out refused to do so, demanding that Randel go into town on his own. “Why are we going so fast?” said Randel from behind Billy Bob on the bike. 

“I think that black sedan back there has been following us the last few times we rode into town. Just trying to put a little distance in between us,” answered Billy Bob quickly. They were flying now, going at least twenty-five miles an hour down the hill that led into town. 

“Why the hell would they be following us?” asked Randel. 

“You know what, Randel? There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about me right now,” replied Billy Bob angrily as they took a hairpin turn at full speed and flew off the bike. Randel went tumbling and crashed into a parked car, while Billy Bob and the bike slid across the asphalt to a stop in the middle of the empty side street. A mix of red and white fur was left in a trail where Billy Bob had fallen. His mask had come off in the commotion of the crash and lay a few yards from where he did in a pool of blood. As Randel’s vision became less blurry, he saw blue and red lights erupt from the black sedan down the road. Billy Bob was still on the ground unconscious. 

“Oh shit—the crack!” said Randel to himself, as he scrambled over to Billy Bob and thrust his hand into the never-ending pockets of the bunny suit. 

“Freeze!” yelled a voice. Officers piled out of the black sedan. Randel and Billy Bob were both arrested on the spot. 

.

Randel finished his story and looked up from the point where he had fixed his eyes. The room was completely silent for a few minutes. 

“Why did they follow you guys and arrest you?” asked the short, porky man leading the meeting. 

“Billy Bob was wanted in forty-seven different counties for repeatedly selling crack to elderly patients in old folks’ homes and children on playgrounds. 

“Is that why he wore the suit? What did he look like without it?” asked a curious-looking tweaker in the back of the room. 

“There was no way he wore the suit because he was wanted. He was the ugliest mother fucker I’ve ever seen in my life. I would have worn the bunny suit too,” answered Randel as a tear rolled down his cheek and onto the floor.