Putting your best foot forward

'Gun Bunny' is what you're called - by the few who've ever heard of you, that is. The beginning of your 'field test footage' is a title card of you making the sexiest pose you can manage with an AR-15, down on your knees and cradling the rifle upright with the stock resting against your pelvis. Aside from a low-cut olive drab leotard, you're wearing a set of pantyhose with a splotchy grey urban camo pattern, and a skimpy desert camo shrug that mostly covers your arms and shoulders but leaves your upper chest and back bare. The "rabbit ears" on your head are actually an artificial accessory, serving as an ultra-compact hands-free jamming device. The puffy white ball of fluff attached to your backside WAS just for looks, however - the science boys had been trying to find some kind of device to fit inside it to justify including it in the uniform but eventually gave up and threw it on just for grins. As part of the rabbit-splicing project your hair and eyebrows had turned a chalky white, which would make you look a bit like an albino if not for your big, watery blue eyes. You knew that it had been absolute **** for all the scientists and officers assigned to your project to never make a move on you beyond a little flirting and eye-humping - there was just too much scrutiny. Naturally, you did your best to reciprocate and tease them back - when you stopped by the base commissary once, you couldn't help but notice that the stocks of kleenexes were particularly low.

The Gun Bunny cover image

The static screen was replaced with grainy, shaky handicam footage of a sunny city street lined with abandoned cars, several of which were riddled with bullet holes. Every visible window was either shattered or boarded up. At the far end of the street, a blocky apartment with a weatherbeaten mural of a mustachioed man in a green army uniform could be seen, ringed in sandbags and barbed wire but seemingly motionless.

A man's parched voice whispered hoarsely from behind the camera. "This is Project GB-556 in her first experimental combat deployment. Just ahead, you can see the fighting position being held by a squad of enemy combatants. Test will commence in five-"

Before the countdown could complete there was a blur of motion as a shapely pantyhose-clad backside leapt into view from overhead, landing in a squat. There you were - and though the angle of the camera didn't show it, the distinctive click-clack of your battle rifle chambering a round was audible above the whistling wind. Rising to your feet, you rested the rifle against your hip with your right arm and advanced... very slowly, with an enticing, hip-swaying walk. Reacting to someone unseen up ahead, the you on the video screen waved and whistled. "Hey boys! I think I took a wrong turn at-"

The ripping-cloth noise of a distant machine gun began to roar and a line of whizzing **** **** the cameraman to dive for cover. By the time it came back up, you were nowhere to be seen. Another weapon opened up, and, following the sound, the camera tracked up to focus on you, balanced casually on top of a tin roof and firing from the shoulder. A whole hailstorm of gunfire tore the roof to shreds a few seconds after your next leap carried you forward, right into one of the apartment's balconies. As the camera tried to focus on your cute little puff-balled backside in distance, it (and you) bounced inside the apartment. Flashes strobed through the open windows and a seemingly endless cacophony of gunfire went on for over 3 minutes, followed by the sound of an explosion that shoot dust from the building's eaves. Getting out of cover cautiously, the cameraman advanced, responding to a radio. "Yes sir. Sorry sir. Yes, understood. I'm moving up to re-establish visual con-"

Before he could get very far, the barricaded front door of the building exploded in a hail of splinters, and you came swaggering out, beaming proudly. "Hey, Mike!" you shout in a chipper tone to the cameraman. "All fi~nished! You were right, it wasn't enough ammo, but I made do!"

"Bunny!" the voice behind the camera shouted, and from behind the lens a hand stretched out to point at you. "You're bleeding! Oh, hell! Commander, we need the medevac right now...!"

"No, no, don't worry, it isn't mine!" You say, leaning forward with your hands behind your back to give him as good a look down the front of your top as possible. "I'm completely fine. Go ahead and cancel the medevac. Trust me," you add with a mischievous twitch of your nose, jerking your thumb over your shoulder, "those guys aren't going to need one either."

Mike laughs nervously, clearly uncomfortable. You keep beaming at the camera and throw up a v-sign with your free hand. "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!"

"...Yes, commander." the soldier with the camera said again. "Looks like a successful test. She cleared out the building without getting a scratch."

"Heheheh... nice." You say, stuffing a forkfull of carrot cake into your mouth and hitting the pause button with your left hand. "I'm sure that's going to get some attention. General Hollind thinks he can leave me to rot in a hotel room like I'm going to get tired and go home? In your dreams, baldy. You had a better chance of convincing me to touch your LITTLE bald head. Pfft." you chuckle at your own crude joke and effortlessly hop to your feet, almost sending the table crashing over. "I've heard about the teams operating under the table... here, and all over the world. No WAY they're going to leave an asset like me on the shelf to gather dust."

With a wipe of your lips, you pry open a floorboard and start to pulling out your unregistered weapons. "Tee heee~ that's a pun, isn't it? I'm supposed to be GUN Bunny, not Dust Bunny. Anyway, since I've sent copies of that videotape to every vigilante fixer in this town, I'll be back on the line of fire where I belong in no time."

Six hours of staring at the phone, tapping your foot so hard a couple of the planks were getting cracks, and polishing off another family-sized dessert, you were just about to give a howl of frustration that was more befitting a wolf than a bunny when the phone rang at last. You let it go for a few rings and bit your lip. "Ok. Manage expectations. It might be a solicitor."

You pick it up and breathe over the receiver. The only thing you hear back is a terse voice saying "West 30th. Alley. Left side. 32 minutes." And then click.

But despite the lack of solid information, that voice made your toes curl and an excited tingle run up your spine. You began hopping up and down clutching the phone and squealing excitedly. That was a voice you'd heard before. It was really happening!