For his next trick he needed a rabbit.
I have a hat. As you see, quite empty. No sudden movements, please.
She is nervous.
Please dim the lights.
He petted down the audience with a finger and what was to become (in later years, or definitely next time around) his catchphrase,
Well, well, well. Who would’ve thought it?
Heart beats like a runner, Bunny. Heartbeats like a runner.
He adapted the hat with a gun-barrel black hanky or actually, cravat that he had stitched quite neatly one evening by a semi professional adaptor of hats, Jessica from Abracahatrick (Adaptors of Hats To The Magic Circle since 1896)
Do you have something similar? Perhaps in a black? Oh? Oh, then blue thread is fine. Thank you. You’ve been wonderful. Auf wiedersehen. Good night.
She took to being known as Bunny and he reverted to an old pet name from school, where he was known for awhile as Hugs as this was his surname and this being the kind of school where everyone’s known by their surname. It was never going to be easy. They practiced all week, but in the end it was he in the hat. He cursed and he moaned and he spat and he moped and he cried. But after a while, sat in the hat, clutching his knees to his chin, he decided, with a twitch,
you know, this ain’t so bad.
I am nervous. Raise the lights a little so no one can call this a trick.
Bunny appeared in the spotlight, bathed in it. And when they simmered, she said,
drum roll, please.
No moon on the water, but a very distant roll of thunder startles him.
Heart beats like a runner, bunny. Heartbeats like a runner.
When death comes, let it come quickly; out of night and least expected.
Thank you. You’re wunderbar. I’m Bunny, good night.
She retired, with a gin, to the chalet.