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Has the ceiling always been that white? Dennis pours the contents of an open jar of cashews into his mouth as he lounges on a beanbag, staring at the ceiling. He’s been hard at work for hours, documenting every bump and crack of his bedroom ceiling. Very captivating stuff. He rolls forward, head in his  hooves. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m bored out of my fucking skull! Why didn’t anyone tell me not having to...

Two buns trudge up a snowy trail in the dim light of a poorly-lit area of Burrowgatory. As Chanti peers over the edge of the mountain trail, he can barely see the lights of the city below. Up this high, the mist obscures the light of civilization and only serves to illustrate how far in the boonies the lovebirds are. “Chanti, are you sure we’re going the right way? This seems really remote to have a luxury resort�...

Chanti sighs and kicks his legs while he pages through a magazine at his dinner table. He’s down in the mouth- possibly even a little bitter as the highfalutin’ buns of renown and fame dish and chat about their predictions and plans for that year’s Gossamer Gala. Who’s going, what they’re wearing, what scandalous hijinks they’ll get up to… Every topic on the subject of the Gala makes the prideful bun’s eyes go green (figuratively) with envy. He k...

Taptaptap-tippy-tap… A restless hoof beats a tattoo on the tile floors of the owner’s abode. By his count, Ivan has kept Chanti waiting almost 15 minutes, making the latter bun nearly mad with impatience. He peeks out his door and watches with despair as three more couples make their way to the inner city. To a better spot in the lines. Chanti groans and lets his head rest on the doorframe. ...