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‘Alt-Right’ Little Rabbit Foo Foo

The Good Fairy is the real racist, because she’s destroying Little Rabbit civilization.

Your assumptions about The Good Fairy expose your own bigotry. She’s not in the right here. All I’m trying to do, when I scoop up field mice and bop them on the head, is to preserve my own identity as a Little Rabbit. Not many people know that Little Rabbits are under threat. I’m hoping to change that through social media.

Some history: For nearly a century, field mice have been pulling the wool over your eyes and making you believe that they’re victims, just because I scoop them up and bop them on the head. Using this falsehood, they get special treatment and benefits, and all the while the correct power structure in which Little Rabbits rule over the forest civilization is eroding. But believe me, the natural order of things is to have Little Rabbits in charge. That’s the way it’s been ever since we were Little Rabbits in Europe. Scooping up field mice and bopping on them on the head is part of our birthright.

There’s this frog who totally gets me. He’s the only one.

Everything bad that has ever happened is a result of taking away power from Little Rabbits. Little Rabbits are much smarter than field mice. Let that sink in… If I didn’t scoop up field mice and bop them on the head, they’d mix with Little Rabbits and then what would happen? There would be no Little Rabbits. It would be Little Rabbit genocide.

In 1987, 103 field mice participated in a Florida University study. The study revealed tapping the head of field mice stimulates the neurons which produce serotonin, also known as “the happy hormone.” Given this incontrovertible fact I ask you, where’s your compassion for field mice? What about their happiness? YOU’RE the one who hates field mice.

In a forest where I can freely bop them on the head, field mice would be much better off. If you say you care about field mice — you, the Good Fairy, and the Forest Council which has recently issued a statement condemning my bopping field mice on the head — you’re a hypocrite. You don’t give a damn about field mice, their children, or babies. You’re just virtue signalling to convince yourselves that you’re better than me, Little Rabbit Foo Foo. I won’t let you get away with that, baby-hater.

The frog watches everything. I know he has my back. I call him Pepe.

The Good Fairy is the real racist, because she’s destroying Little Rabbit civilization. The Good Fairy needs to take her “I don’t like your attitude” sanctimony and shove it up her ass. Oh wait… I’m not supposed to say stuff like that anymore because it’s not politically correct. Remind me: Who’s being oppressed again?

Most field mice are undocumented, you realize, so you’re defending something illegal. ILLEGAL. Think hard about that. Meanwhile, the Good Fairy threatens to turn me into a Goonie, and no one cries out. Everyone has become desensitized to hatred directed against Little Rabbits.

On a side note, don’t believe the false doublespeak Gruffalo narrative which implies that field mice are clever. The Gruffalo is a cuck. Everyone knows that, and calling someone a cuck is the best, most damning, most devastating insult and not for a moment will I ever examine why I’m convinced of that. Read this excellent article I found on Reddit called “Are field mice mammals?” Take your red pill!

Sometimes, the other forest animals watch me, perplexed, as I scoop up field mice and bop them on the head. “What on earth are you doing?” they say. “And why do you keep calling people cucks?” “I’m a proud Little Rabbit,” I tell them, “and I’m committed to safeguarding the heritage of the European forest civilization.” To their follow-up question, I reply, “Yes, I am aware that most real-life Europeans think I’m just a strange Little Rabbit. I get asked that a lot.”

And after all my efforts, what happens? The Good Fairy still doesn’t like my attitude. She’s trying to silence me and suppress the truth by threatening to turn me into a Goonie. The Forest Council has approved the measure. But just you wait. The frog is going to rise up. The frog is strong and bold. My feelings for the frog are purely platonic, by the way.

Go ahead. Try to turn me into a Goonie. We will rise up. The frog will…. Wait. Where is the frog going? Hey, come back! Don’t spawn now! I don’t have any chances left! Wait! You’ll see! We will rule the world! We’ll be the master race again! We’ll all get book deals and aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhbhbhghh!