It is something I feel sufficiently appalling for it to become an instant classic, right up there with other bleak yarns such as the tragic misadventures of Zoran and his legs.
Anyway, once upon a time there was a great-grandmother Violet who dwelled in suburbia surrounded by her incompetent snivelling relatives. It came to pass that one day the aged matriarch developed a hankering for soft,juicy rabbit flesh and her eye landed on her great-grandson's floppy eared pet.
Instantly she set about approaching her grandaughter-in-law and convincing her that it is unhealthy for children to form emotional attachments to thier animals since the critters die anyway leaving the children heartbroken. Much better then for the rabbit to be cooked and eaten than to succumb to natural causes and simply be wasted. Even better then for all this to be accomplished while the great-grandson was in school.
Although the family reluctantly bowed before her logic no one was quite able to kill Mishko whom they had also grown attached to. But she was made of sterner stuff and even though due to her advanced age (eighty) her hands shook too much to wield a cleaver she decided to bust the rabbit's head with the hammer. So Violet-slash-Thor grabbed the bunny with one hand, the hammer with the other but at the last moment her aged hammer arm shook and the blow was slightly deflected leaving Mishko stunned and severely concussed but not as such dead.
Spurred by a magnificent survival instinct he broke loose and hopped away into the courtyard tracking blood and skull tracking blood and skull fragments with Violet (hammer in hand) in hot pursuit.
THe rabbit being nimble despite his head injury and Violet being short sighted and old this chase took some time, and it was when she at last cornered him and smote him a final time that the great-grandson walked into the yard coming home from school.