The Adventures of Hector and Bun-Bun
for Donna
Prologue
This is the story of Hector and Bun-Bun, the infamous couple you’ve undoubtedly heard about in legends and tall tales. (You may even own the action figures or plush toys that had sold in the millions following the escapades of the “Furry Fiends”, as they were affectionately known.) However, those tall tales weren’t tall, they were decidedly short and factual: the bold robberies, the heinous kidnappings, the copious break-ins that had surprised celebrities and politicians in the middle of the night, the daring cross-continental police chase that had the authorities befuddled as they watched the darling duo jump off Victoria Falls and make good their escape - all true! But even the most charming and enigmatic couple have to cross paths at some point.
Presented in these pages is the true account of that chance meeting when Bun-Bun Loper met Hector Jones and forever solidified their place at the top of the FBI’s most wanted list. This is the remarkable beginning of their incredible adventure together.
1.
Hector Horatio François Jose Bicarbonate Felix Jo-Jo Garcia Jones was angry. He was more than angry, he was irate. No, he was more than irate, he was very angry. And disappointed. And a little confused. Hector was the CEO and proprietor of his own manufacturing company which made adult-sized, colorful, pleated, paper umbrellas, you know, like the miniature ones they serve with tropical drinks, only bigger.
Humans would purchase Hector’s fancy umbrellas to guard themselves against the rain. The paper would subsequently become sodden with water, rendering them useless. Humans are stupid. Humans are also very proud, so they didn’t return the inadequate umbrellas for a refund as this would divulge the level of their own stupidity. Hector Jones made a lot of money.
This was not why Hector was mad. He was mad because the paper umbrella business was drying up. Literally. The humans weren’t repeat customers and rainy days in Australia were becoming more and more infrequent. Hector’s CFO, Brian Butternuts, gave him the sad news that the company took too hard a toll over the past dry year and Flappy Day Umbrella Co. would have to file for bankruptcy or, more likely, shut down for good.
“Looks like we will have to shut down for good,” Brian said, that fateful day at Flappy Day HQ. “You might have to live a life of crime to survive, heh-heh.” He said this last part jokingly, but Hector wasn’t laughing. If only they knew at the time how prophetic this wisecrack was to be. After the company’s demise in a few short months, Brian would go on to become quite wealthy when he developed an app that would alert the user if an Americano was seated in a movie theater you wanted to visit. But this story isn’t about Brian Butternuts.
2.
Hector grew up in a small, coastal town in southeastern Australia called Bananaville; a perplexing name for a place that contained no banana plants at all. Hector’s parents, grandparents and great-grandparents were Koala. He is Koala, too, and proud of it. He is actually 99.98% Koala, but I won’t go into the scandalous story in which one of his ancient ancestors shacked up with an Emu.
Hector’s parents weren’t rich, so he paid his own way through college selling Lucky Ducks, a sickeningly sweet snack he invented consisting of sugar and cinnamon coated eucalyptus leaves. The local Koalas loved them and they were a big hit on campus. Some humans even liked them, but the majority of people had digestive issues when consuming them.
Lucky Ducks paid for Hector’s education, his first house and all the furnishings, his first car, and his pet cat Pistachio. (Sadly, Pistachio later died when he got into a family-sized bag of Lucky Ducks.) Hector was happy then. He was rich, successful. He dated Koala girls, never finding true love, but having fun nevertheless. (Koala girls were, as the saying goes, easy.)
Hector and Brian started Flappy Day a few years after graduation and began selling the unique umbrellas in local art shops and on street corners throughout Bananaville (on sunny days only, of course.) Brian was a ‘Roo but got along well with Hector, despite their cultural differences. Brian had good business acumen and a flair for design. Together, with Hector’s knowledge of human trends and his savvy financial strategies the company flourished.
Flappy Day bloomed and boomed when they went online, fabricating and shipping umbrellas around the world. The successful pair bought fancy clothes and fancier cars and held lavish parties in their penthouse apartments. Life was good.
Now, Hector had to think. He climbed his favorite eucalyptus tree to do just that. Yes, his business was failing but maybe this was an opportunity in disguise. He still had money, so there was no concern there. He could start another venture with Brian. He could get back into Lucky Ducks, although the thought of that left a bad taste in his mouth. He could travel… Wait a minute… That’s it! He had always wanted to explore foreign lands. Maybe even visit some of the Flappy Day manufacturing plants in Europe or America before they folded up for good.
So, it was on that day, in a tree in Bananaville, Hector’s life irrevocably changed. He would go on a soul-searching safari to distant places, leaving behind consumerism and financial woes, his parents and friends, the air-headed Koala girls with their designer clothes and suggestive drawls, the luxurious apartment and his automobiles. Later that month, when Hector boarded Qantas flight 510 out of Sydney, headed to JFK, he had no idea just how life changing this trip would be.
3.
Grayview is a small factory town just north of New York City. One of the factories in Grayview was a certain manufacturer known for its quirky paper umbrellas. One of the employees at Paper Thin Productions (a subsidiary holding of Flappy Day, Inc.) was Bun-Bun Ernestine Elizabeth Shayla Choo-Choo Facsimile Brenda Juanita Loper. Bun-Bun wasn’t Rabbit or Hare, she was a mix of both. She was rare. She had the soft, luxurious fur and the sensual curves of a Rabbit and the sharp wit and highly intelligent mind of a Hare. Not to mention a Hare’s insatiable appetite.
Bun-Bun and her friend Marge O’Rynne were leaving the factory at noon for their lunch break. Marge worked in the handle department and was responsible for attaching the curved hand grip to the main shaft of the umbrella. Bun-Bun worked in the pleating department where she oversaw the folding and creasing of the paper canopy on the umbrellas. They rarely saw each other during work so they spent lunch together to catch up on gossip, talk about the guys in the factory, and trade lettuce sandwich recipes.
One afternoon they decided to hop on over to the Tasty Pastry for some empanadas. Marge ordered the chicken frijolita while Bun-Bun ordered a steak cheddar, a whammo shrimp, a chicken florentine, a pork-o-rama, a cheesy-pleasy and the mocha fudge espresso for dessert. She wasn’t that hungry. It was pretty crowded in the Tasty Pastry that day, so they spoke in what many would hear as unintelligible gibberish: Rabbit-speak.
Their conversation soon became lewd and crude, so I won’t repeat it here, however, Bun-Bun told Marge a very funny joke which I must relate to you: Bun-Bun had asked Marge with a serious look on her face, ‘Why d’ya think I don’t like dating Hares?’ Marge replied, ‘Why?’ Bun-Bun responded, ‘I don’t date Hares because they rub me the wrong way!’ The two exploded in laughter and some Diet Coke shot out of Marge’s nose, which was very odd because she had ordered orange juice.
4.
While the other customers in the cafe were looking warily at the two giggling rabbits, Hector was seated in first-class in a Qantas B787-9 Dreamliner headed for the United States. He wondered what the Americanos were like, especially the Americano women. He had heard they were a little scatterbrained but fun and that they loved Australianers. The former Lucky Ducks entrepreneur knew there were very few Koala in America, but that was fine. He wanted to broaden his horizons, meet new people and learn about other cultures.
The flight attendant was a Wallaby. She was fine on service, but Hector thought she was a little ditzy, which he thought all Wallaby were, to be honest. He decided to order his favorite lunch - a boiled hot dog with a side of chips. Alicia, the ditzy first-class attendant, asked if he wanted the dog “naked” or in a bun. He requested a bun, but she had said ‘Pardon?’ He repeated his order but once again Alicia did not comprehend. After many attempts to convey his lunch order, Hector finally had to shout, ‘Bun! Bun!’ And that’s how Hector Jones ended up with a hot dog and two buns in a Dreamliner over the Pacific Ocean.
When the flight was over, Hector put on his favorite outback hat (the one with the hanging cork pieces to thwart flying insects), gathered up his bags and headed down the aisle to the plane’s exit. He said thanks and g’day to the pilot, the largest human Hector had ever seen, and he wondered how the plane hadn’t nose-dived into the ocean with all that extra weight in the cockpit. As he made his way to the rental car agency, Hector decided to splurge a little and rented a cardinal-red Mercedes Benz SL450 Roadster. Hello, America!!
5.
By this time, dear reader, I’m sure you’re wondering ‘When are they going to meet?’ and ‘How will they get together? and ‘Will it be love at first sight?’ Jesus! Will you let me finish already?!?
6.
The next day, Marge and Bun-Bun left the factory around noonish (it was 11:48 AM) and decided to go to the donut shop instead of having a regular lunch since it was a Friday. The shop was a fifteen-minute walk from the factory and was called Donuts 123. Their gimmick was for every donut purchased you got two free. The place was packed, mostly humans, and the two Rabbits nearly left for the Tasty Pastry which would have meant that this story would never have needed to be written and you would never have known about Flappy Day umbrellas and Lucky Ducks, or Marge O'Rynne and Brian Butternuts, or Bananaville and Greyview, or all the rest.
But they stayed, mostly because Bun-Bun saw a sign advertising a bacon-peppermint-mango donut with cherry cream icing. Also, Marge thought that the counter clerk, an Alpaca with rock-star hair and a t-shirt that said Spank Me, was cute. The two factory girls found a small booth after an enormous human exited the shop, leaving behind a smattering of crumbs on the table and sticky smears of something that hopefully came off of a donut. Marge cleaned the surface while Bun-Bun went to order their lunch.
She came back with Marge’s latte and cruller and her usual assorted dozen and large carrot cake milkshake. The pair had a wonderful time together, as usual, despite the noise and the crowd. Marge asked Bun-Bun if she wanted to join her at Rabbit Yoga that weekend, but Bun-Bun told her she was busy with her garden. She was trying to grow organic rutabagas, but they always came up tasting like dog piss, most likely because the dog next door kept pissing on them. So, she planned to spend the day installing an automatic, motion-controlled, water-squirting dog deterrent she found on Amazon. That’ll show him.
7.
Hector had spent his first night in America at a place called the Drowsy Fisherman Hotel & Casino and was now cruising through New York State in his Mercedes Roadster, headed for Grayview. He had decided to visit the American factory with the most depressing name first, to get it out of the way. Plus, it was only an hour drive from the airport. He had the top down, wind was blowing through his fur, the radio was blasting Rocky Raccoon by the Beatles. This was a great idea, he thought to himself while singing about Rocky bursting into Nancy and Dan’s room, guns ablazing. Still, he did feel a bit lonely and wished he had someone to share this holiday with. He pushed those feelings to the back of his mind as he passed a curious little cafe with a whimsical decor out front. The place was a donut shop.
Hector executed a rather stylish U-turn as he mumbled his best Homer Simpson impression: Mmm, donuts. He parked the Benz, got out and admired the fat, decorative gnomes surrounding the shop, all smiling and eating donuts. The entrance had rustic, hand-painted signs nailed around it with witty phrases, such as: Donuts are a Man’s Best Friend and Have a Round Day! and Donut Stop Believing.
The bell on the door gave a happy little ring as Hector entered. From across the crowded shop, Bun-Bun Loper looked past Marge and saw her destiny. And he had a hat on.
8.
As Hector was ordering his Americano coffee and a raspberry fritter, Bun-Bun told Marge to sit on her side of the booth. Actually, she ordered her, but I won’t repeat the language she used. Bun-Bun got up and practically shoved Marge into the booth seat so she would be on the outside. Hector was slowly walking around the place looking for an open seat. When he got close to their booth, Bun-Bun whistled at him and motioned that their table had available room to sit.
“Are you sure, ladies?” Hector asked as he placed his small tray on the table and scooted into the empty side of the booth.
“Absolutely, no problem,” Bun-Bun said cheerily, and she deftly used her paw to nudge Marge’s mouth closed which had been hanging agape for the past minute. Hector was one good-looking marsupial!
The three of them exchanged pleasantries at first: Hello, How are you, Nice day, I’m Hector, I’m Bun-Bun, This is Marge, You have a little icing on your fur there. You know, the normal stuff. Hector had been busy cleaning a small coffee spill that had occurred when he jostled his tray sitting down.
When he finally looked up, he said, “I was…” and stopped, stunned. Across the table from him was the most beautiful Rabbit he had ever seen. Around her neck was a red ribbon with little, white polka dots. She was smiling at him, head cocked a little to the left, a box of twelve donuts in front of her, eight of them half eaten.
“You were what?” she asked eagerly. Hector was going to say that he was on his way to the umbrella factory, but something made him change his mind.
“I was, um… I was glad I found this place.” Real smooth.
Hector and Bun-Bun did not take their eyes off of each other for twenty minutes. The two were locked in non-stop conversation, fervently talking about Australia and America, traveling, gardening, taxidermy, German WWII aircraft, pasta shapes vs. flavor, the viability of keeping jellyfish as pets, and post-nasal drip. Marge tried to interject many times, saying they needed to get back to work, but Bun-Bun was in flirt mode. It was hopeless. So when the topic turned to edible underwear Marge practically pushed Bun-Bun to the floor to extract herself from the booth.
Marge told Hector, “It was nice meeting you.”
Hector said, “Likewise.”
Bun-Bun said to Marge, “I’ll see you later at work.” This turned out to be untrue because Marge and Bun-Bun never saw each other again in person after that time in the donut shop. Of course, Marge saw Bun-Bun in the newspapers, on CNN, and on various online outlets. In fact, that summer, the entire nation was spellbound and enthralled by the myriad criminalities of the interspecial couple in their stolen cars taking selfies and posting their crimes on social media.
9.
Hector and Bun-Bun chatted for another hour or so after Marge left. Bun-Bun had another dozen donuts in this time and Hector watched her eat with amazement and delight. The lunch crowd died down and the donut shop was slowly emptying. Bun-Bun was working on her last donut, the aforementioned BPM, when Hector said, “You must really like donuts.” He nodded his head toward the crumb-filled box in front of her.
“I like sweet things,” Bun-Bun said.
Hector took a sip of his cold coffee and said with a smirk, “I’m sweet.”
Bun-Bun looked up at him, patted her lips with a napkin and said matter-of-factly, “I know.”
Hector smiled and said, “Should I take you back to work?” Bun-Bun seemed to ignore this terminus statement and looked out of the large cafe window into the dusty parking lot.
“Is that your car?” she said, keeping her eyes on the blazing red Benz.
“It’s a rental,” Hector said. Bun-Bun sighed. The two sat there in silence for a while, not uncomfortably, just resetting before the next phase of familiarity begins. Hector admired the soft lines of Bun-Bun’s Leporidae profile.
“Why don’t you take me back to work, wait a few minutes while I pick up some things and then you can take me for a ride in that sweet Camaro of yours?” Bun-Bun finally said with a gleam in her eye.
Hector thought about this for a while. On one paw, it meant that he got to spend more time with Bun-Bun, on the other, he would miss his appointment with the factory chief. He looked straight into Bun-Bun’s baby blues and said, “First of all, it’s a Mercedes Benz. Secondly… ah, what the hell.”
10.
They drove to the umbrella factory (in which, it turns out, Hector would never step foot) and Bun-Bun got out near an inconspicuous employee entrance.
“Wait over there,” she said, pointing at a row of empty parking spaces about twenty yards away. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Hector gave her the thumbs-up sign, which is actually pretty difficult for Koala to execute, and she was gone. A few minutes turned into fifteen and Hector was starting to worry he had just been duped into giving a sly Rabbit a free ride back to work.
After what seemed like another hour, but was actually only seven more minutes, the employee entrance door slammed open and Bun-Bun shot out at a sprinter’s pace, carrying a large tote bag, an overstuffed black plastic garbage bag, and a paper coffee cup with a lid. She was shouting something as she ran but Hector had the radio on and couldn’t make out what she was saying. As he fumbled for the volume button, Hector saw two very large security guards bound out of the same side door, Gorilla it appeared. One pointed at Bun-Bun and shouted, “Hey!” and both guards started pursuit.
When Bun-Bun was about ten yards away from Hector’s car, he finally understood what she was shouting. “Start the car. Start the car! Start the mother-[expletive deleted] car!! ” Hector punched the start button and the car roared to life. Bun-Bun opened the passenger door, threw her cumbersome bags into the rear seat and hopped into the front. “Go, go, go!” she yelled but Hector was already go go going. Those Apes looked seriously angry. The Benz sped away, leaving the parking lot at such a speed that it threw Bun-Bun back in her seat and she emitted a sudden “oooh” sound. Seconds later, she exclaimed “Wheee!!”
11.
Hector and Bun-Bun drove for a while until they both felt that they weren’t being followed. Hector slowed to a more customary pace for the country road they were traveling on, not having a clue where they were headed. “Bun-Bun?” he started, not really sure if he wanted to inform her that he was the owner and CEO of Flappy Day Umbrella Company which in turn owned Paper Thin, Bun-Bun’s employer... um, former employer, thus essentially being her boss. (Sorta.)
“Yes, daaahling,” she said in a cheesy 1940’s movie idol voice, putting on her cat-eye sunglasses to enhance the effect.
“Uh, I want…,” Hector began, then paused.
“You want… yes,” Bun-Bun said, admiring herself in the visor mirror.
“I want, I want to…,” Hector said, pausing again.
“Okay, we’ve established you want something. Spill it,” Bun-Bun said with a more stern tone.
“I want to…” Hector decided to change course and save this conversation for later. “I want to know what the hell went on back there. Back at your job. Who were those big guys? Why were they yelling at you and chasing you and what’s in those bags in the back seat?”
“Oh, that’s what you want,” Bun-Bun said with a dismissive wave of her paw. (It is unsure to this day if Hector ever did tell Bun-Bun about his relationship with her former employer’s company.)
“I mean, I’m just curious,” Hector said, shrugging, trying to be casual about the whole situation, but he really did want to know. He had been in America less than a day and already experienced more excitement than the time Pistachio jumped off his balcony five floors up and landed on a policewoman who screamed bloody murder and started shooting at the flustered cat but only managed to put a bullet hole though her own cruiser’s window. But this was different. Bun-Bun was exciting to be around. He already felt an air of mystery and adventure from her, not to mention he liked to watch her eat.
“Those big, dumb guys were security guards, they were chasing me because I stole some stuff. I sort of gave my notice back there and I took a few things with me.” Bun-Bun said all this matter-of-factly while filing her claws. Then, looking at Hector, said, “I’m hungry. You hungry?”
“You just ate two dozen donuts,” Hector said. “What did you take?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some wallets, some purses, a couple of guns those guards weren’t using. It’s amazing how people get so attached to all that stuff. Oh, and my goldfish, Harriet. By the way, we need to stop and get a bowl of water.” She tapped the coffee cup that she had placed in the cup holder between them.
Hector sat in silence for a few miles processing this new information. Who was this strange creature sitting next to him in his rented Mercedes rolling down Route 59. He should be appalled, but somehow he was intrigued.
“You should try it,” Bun-Bun said breezily, as if she was recommending a new brand of breakfast cereal.
“Try what?” Hector asked warily.
“Taking stuff, it’s pretty fun,” Bun-Bun said, smiling and rubbing her ear. “Ooh, stop up here!” There was an old general merchandise store like the type you see out west; it even had a long front porch. Hector slid the Mercedes into the large, gravel parking lot and cut the engine. He let out a long sigh and looked at Bun-Bun. She then proceeded to explain to him in precise detail what was about to happen.
“It’ll be fun,” she reiterated. “Besides, I need a fishbowl. Remember?”
12.
They got out of the car and walked across the stony lot to the entrance of Frankie’s Bait Shop and Emporium. Bun-Bun carried her tote bag and coffee cup. The door made a soft ding-dong sound as they entered. The store was pleasantly air-conditioned but also had a slightly unpleasant odor. Fish or mildew, thought Hector. Vegetable lasagna with a side of garlic bread, thought Bun-Bun, and tiramisu for dessert. She wasn’t thinking about the store’s funky aroma, she was still hungry.
“Hello friends,” said a middle-aged human man behind the counter. He was wearing a checked flannel shirt and eating a huge peach. Bun-Bun’s stomach growled. “If ya need help with anything, lemme know.” Hector nodded and the two of them walked the aisles. Bun-Bun grabbed a clear, plastic bowl, which was actually part of a display and not for sale. She dumped the contents (little travel-size bottles of shampoo for human women) on the floor. She found a six-pack of water in the beverage aisle and put it in the bowl.
“Do you have any Lucky Ducks?” Hector called to the man from the snack aisle. The Americano version of Lucky Ducks was nothing like its Aussie namesake. It consisted of two, thin, maple-flavored sandwich cookies with a peanut butter filling. They weren't too disgusting plus the human stomach could tolerate them.
“Sorry, friend, we don’t carry those no more,” the man chimed back.
“No worries,” Hector replied and snagged a few bags of Doritos from the shelf. After several more minutes of shopping Hector and Bun-Bun brought their various food items and supplies to the front counter.
“Find everything ya need?” the clerk asked as he started to ring things up.
“We did, thank you,” Bun-Bun told him with a sly grin on her face. She glanced over at Hector who was chewing on one of his claws. She decided she liked him when he was nervous.
The man got to the plastic bowl and looked at it, turning it over and around, then looked inside it. “I don’t think this thing is for sale, honey,” he said with a I-hope-that-won’t-be-a-problem smile. “Sorry about that. This is a store fixture.” He pronounced it fiksher.
Bun-Bun dug deep in the tote bag and pulled out a large, shiny, oil-black handgun and laid it on the wooden counter where it made a ka-chunk sound. “Here’s what’s going to happen, please listen closely,” she said in a this-is-your-worst-nightmare tone, low and slow. “You’re going to bag all our stuff and open the cash drawer. My boyfriend here is going to come over there and put all the money in another bag. We’re going to walk out of here and you get to go home tonight and tell Mrs. Peach you didn’t get shot full of bullets. Sound good?”
Mr. Peach stood motionless, his mouth had dropped open. Hector discerned the slightest of nods from the clerk and made his way behind the counter. Bun-Bun busied herself by pouring the contents of several water bottles into the plastic bowl.
“Hi,” Hector said to the man, who was still standing in front of the register. “If you would be so kind as to open the drawer there.” He motioned to the cash drawer and then grabbed a plastic bag from a rack. The man cautiously pressed a button on the register keypad and the drawer opened with a ding. His mouth was still partly open and Hector could see bits of peach in there.
“Australianer?” the man mumbled to Hector. He had a lugubrious look on his face.
“Yes, sir. Thanks for asking,” Hector said, grabbing cash out of the register drawer and stuffing the bills into the plastic bag which had a yellow smiley face and the words Thank you! printed on it.
“And she…” the clerk started but paused.
“Americano,” Hector said, finishing his thought. “Have you failed to notice the large firearm, mate?” The man, who had by this time managed to shut his mouth, just nodded as he looked at Bun-Bun. She had finished transferring water from bottles to bowl and was gingerly pouring Harriet from the old coffee cup to her new abode. Then she gathered up her stolen merchandise, the repurposed display prop, now fishbowl, and the gun.
“Now don’t go doing something foolish like calling the police or you and your wife will be having hot lead for dinner. Got it?” Bun-Bun was trying her best not to show she was enjoying this. The clerk nodded and mumbled something unintelligible. Hector came around with the sack of cash and the two of them exited the store, stopping briefly to snap a selfie on the front porch, gangsta style.
Frankie’s Bait Shop and Emporium has now become famous and quite popular for being the Furry Fiends’ first crime scene. There’s even a plaque on the wall commemorating the event. Frank Turdskin, the store owner and lead cashier, became a minor celebrity in the area, giving several television interviews retelling his “harrowing experience,” leaving out the part, of course, where he wet his pants.
13.
Two minutes later, Hector and Bun-Bun were speeding west again. They were jubilant. He kept repeating words like wow! and whew! and whoa! and she was eating Butterfingers candy bars from a party pack she had purloined.
“That was incredible!” Hector shouted at the windshield. Bun-Bun grinned and munched. “My heart is still racing. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“I told you,” Bun-Bun said, licking her paws. “Did you see the look on that guy’s face?”
Hector was nodding like a bobble-head doll on a roller coaster. “Yeah! He looked like he was about to puke up that peach.”
“How much did we get anyway?” Bun-Bun said.
“I don’t even know,” Hector said and let out a few more wows and whoos. All in all, the robbery netted them $167 in cash and about $85 in stolen food and merchandise. Not a big haul, by any means, but it was their first, and certainly, even if they didn’t know it at the time, not their last. Hector looked over at Bun-Bun. She was now humming to herself and eating sour cream and onion potato chips out of a huge bag.
“Wha?” she said, noticing Hector looking at her eat, “Thievery makes me hungry.” She munched and crunched.
“Oh, by the way - boyfriend?” Hector said, eyebrows raised. Bun-Bun started to giggle which sent little shards of potato chips spewing from her mouth.
“Is that a problem?” she said, ears askew, with a did-little-ol’-me-do-something-wrong look on her face.
“Not a problem at all,” Hector said. He smiled at her and reached over and grabbed a pawful of chips.
Epilogue
Hector and Bun-Bun were criminals. There’s no way of getting around that fact. Did they steal, rob, burgle, cause mayhem and mischief, damage property, break federal and state laws? Undoubtedly, yes. Did they harm anybody, either emotionally or physically? Absolutely not! Well, there was that one Hamster in Colorado who refused to play badminton “with” them, but that’s covered in Book 4. (I hear his leg is healing nicely.)
The point is, Hector is a decent Koala, and Bun-Bun… well, Bun-Bun is a little misguided, granted, but the team that they have become are respectable and admirable, even outside of the confines of the law. They are a charming couple and are adored by millions.
I hope you have enjoyed this true account of the first meeting of Hector Jones and Bun-Bun Loper and their first caper together. Be sure to see what the pair get into next in Books 2 through 11. And remember, if you should ever find yourself in close contact with the Furry Fiends, sit back, enjoy their company, and have fun!