The 2010 Annual

Bink, Editor-in-Chief

The the affairs, the rehab, the football, the fashion, the politicians crying down the phone, the breakfast tantrums and the paparazzi: in the closing days of December we shall revisit our favourite and not-so-favourite moments of 2010 once more.

Was it a good year? Methinks so. Although we still have two days to go so you never know! What if a meteorite hits my hutch tonight? Doesn’t bear thinking about, the mess, and what if my food bowl breaks? Delores isn’t going to like her hay rearranged like that either. Will breakfast service be affected?

But I digress! Dear reader, I give you:



First edition of The Bunnington Post! Our dear friends Coffee and Marmalade come to stay at the mansion and discover the joys of the hothot and the willow ball.


Coffee and Marmalade continue to enjoy the a-maze-ing facilities in the garden. Their departure leaves a gaping hole in our lives and in the lawn.

Delores launches her new fashion column and opens fire with that most trusted of girls: the LBD.

We finally see the introduction of the limousine service. And about time that was too.

Kitty Lobear writes in to invite our investigative journalists to peruse her tunnel in Den Bosch, the Netherlands.

Katrijn finally gives in to Fabio Capello after he phones her six times a day pleading with her to become England Manager for the World Cup 2010 tournament. She does love her footie.


Haas shares his insights on engineering.

Katrijn considers the pros and cons of moulting in spring, and the burdens of the big maned bun.

All four of us are interviewed by The Observer’s This Much I Know column.

Haas launches his first defamation suit of 2010 after someone mistakenly calls him “shorty” [sic].

And finally, our choice and control campaign is heard by the powers that be, and the government concordat, Putting Rabbits First is presented by the Department of Lagomorph Health and Well-being.


Quiet month, April. Sunny though.

All was rather lovely, in between the increasingly hysterical calls from Gordon Brown and Nick Clegg, that is. And then Delores was taken to hospital by air ambulance to avoid the press pack outside.


Delores returns from the Priory Clinic with a complex about her size. It was not a good idea to put her in the same room as Amy Whineyhouse.

We take out a superinjunction just in case to stop staff and Amy from blabbing.

We have a kind of heat wave. The helicoptres over the garden are getting annoying so we tell newly elected Dave C he should give more powers to the community to deal with the paparazzi and build new mansions with surface-to-air facilities without planning permission.

Breakfast remains stressful for my dear Delores.

So I decide to have what she’s having at The Priory.


Bunningford Tunnel is opened in mine and Delores’s garden. Although it’s a feat of engineering, we pull some strings in Westminster to get it moved. Not in our back yard, I should think.

Delores’s fashion column goes from strength to strength. Anna Wintour begs her to guest edit the ‘plus size’ edition of Vogue. This is too much for Delores, who does not want her style to be pigeonholed. They make do with Penelope Cruz eventually. The friendship with Anna never really recovers.

Haas checks into the Priory and we make sure he is not sharing a room with Vinnie Jones. We sell the exclusive rights to The Bunnington Post to pay the mortgage.

On Haas’s return Katrijn is convinced she can smell lipstick on him and accuses him of having an affair while at the Priory. She kicks him out of the hutch.


The gossip columns racked up the inches on the Haas-Katrijn marriage. Will she, won’t she; did he, did he not?

We also discover Haas’s dark secret: he is a Teletubby.

Fortunately, he does recover although he too returned from the Priory with weight issues.

Meanwhile, Katrijn fulfills her moral obligations to the international football community even after England crash out of the World Cup. Fabio eventually stops crying down the phone.


August was the month of the Cloaking Device debacle. Even a fully recovered Haas with his sizeable knowledge of engineering couldn’t fix the dud I bought by mail order from Bunnifrey. It was supposed to be my Personal Cloaking Device but as demonstrated by Delores, it was far from invisible…

To cheer me up, Coffee and Marmalade sent us some home grown cabbage from their organic farm.

And my dear friend Flint wrote from Newbury relating his own sorrowful experiences with his preferred Cloaking Anti Matter to express his sympathy with my plight!

We were also given a Sudoku to take my mind off things. Fiendishly difficult to solve so we decided the best course of action was to bite it. And chew on it. And toss it around for a bit.

Busy month, August.


Delores heard from her niece, the Pennine Bun.

The garden was vandalised…

… and spurred on by Haas’s engineering advice and coaching Delores took up her new hobby: digging.

David Cameron became a little too confident to Haas’s taste. A Dave vs Haas Cuteness Contest swiftly put the novice PM back where he belonged.


In October some old flame of Delores’s got back in touch, but I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not like he’s dashing or handsome or anything.

Far more interesting is the huge part my Delores played in getting those Chilean miners out. She dug tirelessly while on satellite phone to Chile to guide them to those poor miners.

Her good friend Gozer the Destructor from Dexter, Michigan got in touch to swap notes on traction and digging techniques.

The secret is in equipment maintenance and bling.

All this activity left Delores in need of a spell at The Priory, and I suffered a great deal as a result.

But soon, Delores was back to her breakfast demolishing self.

Katrijn found out some more about her roots when The Bunnington Post received a letter from Cousin Neville.


In November we started to get very fed up with the paps. Several superinjunctions did not really achieve the result we had in mind. We briefly considered sacking Max Clifford, but decided to give him one more chance. He’s got a mortgage to pay, too.

Breakfast remains a tense affair for my Delores, especially if the waitress service isn’t up to the job.

The Katrijn-Haas marriage is firmly back on solid ground after the summer’s dodgy developments. It’s frankly tiresome to have to listen to that going on next door some nights.

Let’s just say their appetite for breakfast has been phenomenal lately…

November was turning a bit cold so I tried the ‘I need rehab’ approach to see if I could get a place as a houserabbit. Unfortunately, Delores saw through that one and told them. Not good for our marriage…


And in December Delores quickly saw the sense in my “fib” [sic] because it didn’t get cold, it got arctic.

It started snowing on the 1st and that was it.

To renew their wedding vows Haas and Katrijn went stage diving at a The Wedding Present gig. At least they had a hangover the next day.

Then it started to snow again, and we were wrapped up. The new Pap Deflectors had the added benefit of keeping drafts out, as observed by Katrijn.

We took some exercise in the snow…

With mixed outcomes.

Haas lost his iPhone right after taking a call from Ed Milliband – we think he actually lobbed the thing right over the fence into the neighbouring garden in frustration. He’s still looking for it though.

Regular readers from Okunoshima Island in Japan got in touch.

We can only aspire to their empire.

And finally, to end the year on a high note, Haas is demanding the government probe into the recurring vandalism in the garden. His argument is that the Forensic Science Service can simply not be closed while this problem persists.

We do have our suspicions, however. The paps are clever in their disguise!

The End.

Unless there is a meteorite. Or if David Milliband rings. Or if we have a heatwave.

Where’s my breakfast??

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