The Smoking Bun

A whimsical delicious blend fit for the most discerning of rabbits (and their human friends): delightful marshmallow fluff and bittersweet chocolate are poured over buttery vanilla and thick buttercream topped with a drop of honey, then layered with rich sweet pipe tobacco and a whiff of aromatic woodsmoke.

Benjamin Bunny was hopping down the Bunny (no relation) Trail as fast as he could, till he reached the residence at 221-B, the home of his cousin the famous detective Peter Rabbit. His hind feet thumped upon the door as if his life depended on it. After much racket, the door was finally opened by his querulous cousin.

"I say Benny, what's the ruckus then?"

Benjamin was panting both with exertion and panic, he tumbled into the front parlour in quite a state.

"Peter, you've got to help me! The eggs! The eggs are missing!"

"Sit, dear cos, take a load off." He gestured towards a pair of matching wing chairs before the crackling fire. "Have a pipe and a spot of tea, it will do you good."

He took a clay pipe from the pocket of his blue brass-buttoned blazer and lit it with a spill from the fire, puffing thoughtfully. His favorite rabbit-tobacco always helped him to think clearly.

"Now what's all this 'bout eggs, you say?"

"The eggs, Peter, the ones from Mr. McGregor's hen house! Flopsy and I collected them for the children and now they're gone! She painted them so lovely too, the dears will be gutted they can't have their egg hunt for the Equinox!"

"Ah, those eggs! Well let us make haste to your domicile then, I need to examine the scene of the crime."

Traveling once more upon the Bunny Trail, Benjamin led his cousin to his home where his wife Flopsy waited anxiously, dabbing tears with a lace-trimmed handkerchief.

"Ah brother, so glad you've come! We're just dashed!"

Peter patted Flopsy's shoulder sympathetically. "No need to take on so, Sis, I shall suss it."

The couple showed Peter the last place the eggs had been, in the larder, waiting to be hidden the night before the Equinox celebration. The children loved rising early upon the morn to bound through the dewy garden looking for the brightly-painted treasures. In the pysanka tradition they had gently blown out the contents and then decorated them with beautiful patterns and pastoral scenes. Flopsy was the artist of the family, Peter recalled.

"One wonders if the thief thought they were made of gold," Peter muttered to himself as carefully examined the larder. "Ah ha!" He stooped down and retrieved something from the floor.

"What is it?" Benjamin and Flopsy asked, rushing over.

Peter held up a long white hair. "A hair. A cat hair."

"Goodness sakes, Snowball!" Benjamin exclaimed.

"Who?" Flopsy asked, looking at her husband.

"The. McGregor's cat," Peter answered. "I've run afoul of her more than once."

Flopsy shook her head at her brother. He had been such a bad little bunny in his younger years.

"What would Snowball want with eggs?" Benjamin asked.

"This is what we shall ascertain to answer, come on then!"

They made their way to Mr. McGregor's farm, pausing for a moment of silence at the gate in remembrance of Peter's father, who had been put into a pie by Mrs. McGregor. Once they had wiggled under the gate they crept quietly towards the toolshed, where they knew Snowball often napped. But the white cat was nowhere to be found.

"If we see her, what shall we do?" Benjamin whispered.

"Well we just jump at her!"

Benjamin looked rather unsure.

"Your old dad would be shocked, shocked I tell you, to know you're such a coward, Benny! He has no opinion of cats!"

"Yes I know. He's a brave soul, bless him."

Peter put his nose in the air, sniffing. "Do you smell that, then?"

"What? Oh…why yes, I smell something."

Peter was a connoisseur of rabbit-tobacco, he knew all the best kinds, and he could smell a most aromatic variety now as they crept through Mr. McGregor's garden towards the woods.

"Cos, I must make a confession. It pains me grievously."

"What's that then, Pete?"

"I was mistaken. It was most assuredly not a cat hair I found in your larder."

"No?" Benjamin was shocked, for it was widely known that his cousin Peter was a master of deduction and had attended the very best university in the forest.

"No. I smelled a certain scent, thought it must be something else, but now I know –"

They came upon two figures sitting upon a fallen log at the edge of Mr. McGregor's property. It was Benjamin's father, old Mr. Bouncer, puffing upon his pipe in the company of his friend, Tommy Brock. The badger was enjoying a cabbage-leaf cigar, he long-maintained it was an acquired taste. But all the rabbits in the forest believed cabbage was for eating, not for smoking.

"Well hullo chaps," Mr. Bouncer hailed them, waving his pipe. "Come take a load off!"

"We do not come to socialize, Mr. Bouncer," Peter informed him, "but to inquire after the whereabouts of Mr. Tod."

"Mr Tod?!" Benjamin and his father exclaimed in unison.

"Yes, that white hair I found was actually a whisker, and there was a distinct aroma of Lavandula angustifolia in your larder. Mr. Tod is fond of the Bouncer blend, isn't he, sir?"

"Why yes, I've had to chase that rascal fox out of my special patch many many times!"

"Tommy, were you in on it then? Thought you'd have eggs for dinner?"

Tommy's expression was dismal, the badger knew he was beat.

"We didn't know they was empty!" he wailed.

The rabbits laughed spitefully at him. "Serves you right, you glutton!" scolded Benjamin. "But whatever shall we do now, the children won't have their celebration!"

"Simple, Benny," Peter replied. "We will gather stones from the riverbank, Flopsy can paint them just the same as the eggs."

"You're a genius!" Benjamin proclaimed, giving his cousin a hug.

"Much too clever for the likes of us," Tommy complained.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Brock, not to find yourself in the company of a smoking bun."

The rabbits all enjoyed a pipeful of Mr. Bouncer's special blend of rabbit-tobacco and Tommy Brock skulked away in embarrassment…though more at the revelation or Peter's pun, it was difficult to know.

• Created By: Mara ~ Love Potion® Magickal Perfumerie
• Description By: Luna65

Magickal Meanings of Ingredients:

MARSHMALLOW ~ Fertility, happiness, creativity, increase in psychic awareness, intuition, love, protection, exorcism. Gently commanding and persuading.
BITTERSWEET CHOCOLATE ~ Lightens emotions, evokes feelings of love.
VANILLA ~ Aphrodisiac, inspires happiness, playfulness, sexual arousal, lust, vitalizing.
BUTTER/CREAM ~ Nurturing, soothing, eases troubled relationships. Goddess energy.
HONEY ~ Enticing, seductive; use to bewitch a straying or hesitant lover. Happiness, fulfillment.
NUT ~ Intuition, wisdom, protection, fertility.
TOBACCO ~ Healing, purification, spiritualism. An ode to the Gods.
SMOKE ~ In addition to the attributes of whatever is being burned (resins, woods, etc), smoke is for cleansing, purification, renewal, consecration, concealment and celebration.

Tags: For Women, Love, Sex/Passion/Lust, Fertility/Creativity, Whimsical/Fantasy, Sweet Scent, Delicious/Foody Scent, Tobacco-Based Scent, Vanilla-Based Scent