If we can assume that nearly all car­toon rab­bits are famous, then what about those excep­tions? Yesterday’s pNote showed the des­per­ate grasp­ing of none other than Dougie Rab­bit, a patsy who quite pos­si­bly had reached the end of his rope. While the gun may have been loaded, it was made of choco­late and would have done no more dam­age than maybe stain­ing someone’s shirt. Dougie, as far as I know, died pen­ni­less and alone under a rain­bow in south­ern Peru. He has man­aged only a mod­icum of fame as a myth­i­cal being who if found at the end of a rain­bow, will give you choco­late eggs. He has only been con­fused with the Easter Leprechaun.

The above rab­bit, Sir Crunches, was vaguely inter­ested in the enter­tain­ment busi­ness, but Bugs Bunny stole his shtick and beat him to it. Sir Crunches also wasn’t a real noble.