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Kids Can Fly: The Innocent Rabbit

Ivan the Bad-tempered was the least liked person in the town. He was belligerent about everything. There wasn't a day went by that did not have a story about Ivan's bad-temperedness, so, although the people didn't like him, they also enjoyed the stories.

When he went to the butcher's shop, he shouted at Tom and threw mince so that it stuck to the wall and dripped slowly to the sawdust on the floor. When he went to the dairy, he emptied a box of milk on the floor and stamped on it, like a child having fun with a puddle of water. When he went to the grocer's, he squeezed the bananas so hard they squelched and oozed from their skins, bubbling between his fingers.

The days went by and the stories grew, and the only reason the people did not report Ivan to the police and have him locked away was the fact that he was rich. Very rich. And the best thing about his trail of destruction was that every time he ruined something, he quite happily paid for it. The people sometimes hoped he would break a window, or smash a bottle, or trample a garden, because they always got far more than the ruined goods were worth. It was almost good luck to be insulted by Ivan.

And you should also know that in the town was another man, who was the second most least liked man in the town. His name was Belowski, and his nick-name was the Brat.

He came from somewhere in Russia, (from a place whose name no-one could pronounce perfectly but it sounded like a cough and a sneeze), and he brought his wife and three children and they moved into the smallest, most run-down house in the town. From that house, on a quiet evening, you could hear the shouts of Belowski, the bellows of Belowski, and the angry curses of Belowski, as he told his wife and children, or the food, or the neighbors, what he thought of them.

So the days went by, and Belowski bellowed, and Ivan broke things, and the stories grew, and then one day the town decided to go rabbit-shooting.

Everyone in the town who could walk faster than a wounded rabbit, managed to get a good-sized gun (except the children and most of the women, you understand?), and away they went, up the hills and down the hills, looking for the rabbits.

"I will shoot more rabbits than the lot of you put together!" shouted Ivan, as he strode along the street with the townsfolk all round him, "I am a better shot than any of you, and my bag is bigger and wider, for carrying all the rabbits I will shoot! You might as well all stay home because I am Ivan, and I am going to shoot


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