Canon

Sorin Nină

- Dance, you scoundrel! Shake your hips with more soul or get lost!
I started moving awkwardly, twisting with lascivious moves around the pole.
Throughout this time, three questions were wildly parading through my
mind.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What the hell am I doing here, shaking my hips?
The room reeked of sweat, cheap perfume, and filthy, excited men.
On the screen in front of me, projecting bright beams in sync with the music,
a short, red message appeared that alarmed me.
You have 12 minutes to find out who you are and escape. At exactly 12
o'clock, the building will be blown up.
Then the clock displayed the time.
It was 12 minutes to 12.
I have no time to waste...
That's all I managed to tell myself, then I found myself pulled up by two
elastic ropes tied to my garter. I felt dizzy and wanted to vomit on the heads of the
interested drunks staring at me.
- Pretend you're flying, sweetheart! shouted a dried-up old woman, hidden
poorly behind a shabby curtain.
I tried to spit at her, but I missed. In desperation, I attempted some delicate
flying movements, but I made a fool of myself and received two plastic cups and
an empty pack of cigarettes to my head.
When I saw the room from above, I froze.
No humans.
Just huge plastic dolls, following me eagerly from the establishment's tables,
with exaggeratedly large and poorly painted eyes, matching frozen smiles that
lacked meaning.

1
 Finally, I was left alone on stage and rushed towards the door, seizing the
opportunity to collect about 14 plastic slaps on my buttocks. The door was locked
with a steel bolt, so I ran back to the stage, receiving a double number of slaps and
two eager hands on my breasts.
When I returned to the stage, I finally saw my image in a broken mirror. I
jumped in shock, then burst into hysterical laughter. I wasn't an appealing creole as
I would have liked; instead, I was a huge rabbit with big teeth, proportional breasts,
and exaggerated buttocks.
I wonder if I'm a boy or a girl?
I touched myself to see. The result of my investigations was inconclusive, so
I decided to solve the mystery as soon as I had a clearer mind.
The thing is, I didn't feel like a rabbit at all, but I couldn't find a zipper to
take off my miserable costume.
- Have I gone mad or encountered too strong drugs? I said with a kind of
totally inappropriate joy. I became sober when a message appeared on the
projection screen, indicating 12:11. One minute had passed of the twelve I had left
to live, if those who projected the message didn't mess up.
In the room, the dolls were getting agitated again, loudly asking me to take
off my clothes and shake my hips more skillfully, so I rushed backstage, cursing
them.
The old woman, just a hag stuck in a mobile hanger, greeted me with a
bunch of bad words.
- Having fun, huh? You've made a mockery of a good number, you wretch.
You're good for nothing. Why didn't you trigger the explosive belt? Why are you
still alive?
I looked better at the costume, shimmering with sequins.
I had a huge belt, loaded with dynamite.
- It didn't work, I replied bluntly. Want me to try again in front of you?
Maybe it'll work...
- Now you're showing off... Too bad you're not mine. I would disown you on
the spot. Get out of here, don't let me see you again!
- With joy...
I turned my back on her, taking random turns through the corridors, staring
at a panel that said "Access strictly forbidden to humans," then hurriedly walked
away, intending to lose my trail. Two giant frogs and a golden robot, Star Wars
2
style, waved at me when we crossed paths in the hallway. Who could they be? I
didn't get stuck; I responded with evasive gestures.
- Boss is waiting for you at the cafeteria's restroom.
- What does he want?
- To skin you alive, the frogs jeered mockingly.
Staying straight on the hallway line was no problem, but things got
complicated when the hallway ended with some dubious stairs, ascending
vertically on a wall. I ended up on the ceiling, walking normally, head down,
surprised that I didn't fall in a heap on the floor.
I passed through an open window, where the building's vertical wall was
filled with tables, surrounded by toilet chairs instead of normal furniture. I felt
sick. The base of the buildings wasn't visible, and the consumers, a motley
assembly of dolls and monstrous animals, stood perpendicular to the wall,
seemingly unaffected by the laws of physics.
A clock showed 11:50.
- Are you still alive? wanted to know a fat and shiny worm, as if it were
moisturized with gel, coiled on one of the toilet seats.
- Unfortunately, yes, I said miserably. The belt didn't work...
- Lies! He betrayed like a scoundrel, said a transparent and suspicious
jellyfish, sitting at the same table and playing to the boss's tune.
- What does it matter, said the boss-worm, then threw a fork, two spoons,
and a large beer mug in my direction. I felt the fork piercing my flesh, then the
mug exploding in my head, and I suddenly craved something sweet, then I fainted
or died.
I hadn't died. I woke up in a filthy garbage chute, where I was almost
suffocated by a frozen chicken my height and two hideous plastic dolls, just like
the ones in the strip club, lying motionless over me. A little below, some garbage
grinders were doing their job with a buzzing noise.
I found a more comfortable position in the tender and sticky embrace with
my new friend, who had begun to thaw in some places. I didn't get involved too
much... I knew the relationship with the chicken had no future, but for the moment,
I was fine.
I didn't care that I would soon be chopped like a sausage.
I got carried away with other thoughts...

3
 One of the dolls had its head broken, so I looked inside, curious. I sighed,
disappointed. Inside, I found only low-quality plastic, nothing else.
The clock on the doll's hand showed 11:51.
I broke the doll's face and applied it as a mask over my eyes, in a futile act
of defiance.
It wasn't hard to get out of there. My friend, the semi-frozen chicken, was of
great help.
I was still in the building,
I reviewed the survival information. I wasn't doing well.
I was an oversized rabbit with buttocks, subjected to an attempted murder by
a perfidious worm with the air of a mafia godfather. All because I didn't blow
myself up with some lustful plastic dolls, due to obscure interests. I was trying to
escape from a mess without head or tail, where the laws of gravity were a whim
and was about to be blown up in about nine minutes.
Everything was perfectly illogical, grotesque, and absurd, which seemed to
be the new normal around here.
A wave of metallic policemen, with black intervention helmets and rubber
batons in hand, invaded the hallway. They moved perfectly in sync, like an award-
winning cheerleading squad, and turned their heads simultaneously, for no
apparent reason, as if they were clockwork-driven.
- Make way, the holy gibbons are coming! echoed from dozens of metallic
chests.
I pressed myself against the wall, but to my horror, they all turned their
heads towards me simultaneously and smiled falsely and contortedly, as in a horror
version of Hollywood.
Danger! Beware! Run! My rabbit instincts screamed at me, but I had no way
out. They had surrounded me.
Sweat broke out on me, and I began to tremble uncontrollably.
A voice among them whispered, although none of them moved their lips.
- Follow the gibbon with the hat.
- Thanks, beauties, a plastic doll languidly said, appearing in the meantime.
Then, as a sign of gratitude, she waved her dress, perhaps to show the policemen
her edible lingerie.
The beauties turned their heads synchronously, falsely smiling at the girl,
then took out their batons, with fluid, water-ballet-like movements. When they
4
finished, they took the busty doll, now a formless heap of plastic, and threw her
into the trash with rehearsed gestures, then marched further down the hallway.
An unnatural silence fell.
Only the partially nibbled edible panties stuck to the wall remained behind
the girl, silent witnesses to a hallway drama caused by excessive cuteness.
The silence was shattered by a loud trot announcing, through its messengers,
the gibbons, that the holy peace had descended upon us...
At least that's what I hoped. However, the gibbons, with all their holiness,
grabbed my buttocks, stuck their filthy fingers in my mouth, and then slapped me
as if I were a thug on the street. Unfortunately, they all had felt hats and yellow
ties, so the advice given by the policeman was only partially useful.
Fortunately, one of the frogs I knew from backstage appeared from a cart of
gas cylinders and mowed them down with dum-dum bullets. Good shooter... All
the gibbons lay sprawled on the floor, except for one who was left alive. The holy
one got up, touched himself with guttural sounds, surprised that he was still
breathing, then sprinted away to mind his health elsewhere...
Was he the good gibbon, the one to be followed?
Surely! Coincidence would have been too great. I figured it out. Someone
who didn't want to reveal their identity at the moment was determined to help me.
Was it Boss?
Then why did he stick a fork in me?
I checked my wound reflexively. It had healed. I peeled myself off the wall,
which was smart and started to absorb me into the putty, then prepared to follow it.
Exactly at that moment, a penguin with a wooden leg and a monocle, with the air
of a personnel manager, came out smoking a cigar from a room and shouted
through a megaphone at us, poor souls...
- Break time!
What power! What an effect!
Everything froze, including a hallway clock that showed 12:53. I tried to
move, but it was impossible. Everyone was stuck. I slept for a while and had a
horrible nightmare, in which I was a giant rabbit watching a clock showing exactly
12 o'clock, and I was breaking into pieces along with a building that looked like an
infinite sausage.
Affected in my essence as a herbivorous rodent, I shouted with passion that I
hated sausages, that I was a lacto-vegetarian animal, then felt sorry for myself and
5
the fate of the world, and wept like a madman with drooping ears, until I felt
someone combing me gently and applying fur gel. That somewhat reassured me
and made me feel good.
I was now a presentable rabbit...
The penguin reappeared with a whistle and his bossy airs.
- Back to work...
As soon as he whistled, the gibbon started running again, with me chasing
him.
He opened the door of a room, and I followed him like a shadow.
That's how I ended up in the factory.
That's how I ended up in hell.
Hell was adorned with two production lines, one pink for dolls, and another
red for soldiers. Both were running at a frantic speed. Millions of toys were being
manufactured there every day, on an emergency basis.
Further on, things got crazy. Each newly made doll was destroyed by a
soldier, and each soldier, in turn, was destroyed by a doll. The result was always
null. I wagged my tail in confusion.
The factory's work was in vain.
- And then, who benefits? I asked the air.
- The factory, replied a short, bald old man, the only human I had seen in the
building.
- The factory exists to create, and nothing comes out of its gates.
- That's how it was until it came to life. Then it wanted more and better, and
when production became useless, the factory tried to come up with something new,
to create life.
- Do these weird monstrous dolls live?
- No, they just imitate life. Unfortunately, no one needed the new toys, so
the factory, having a sensitive nature, went insane with pain and uselessness. Now
it creates and destroys only to find a reason for survival.
- What are you doing in this madness?
- I do what shouldn't be done and undo what shouldn't be undone, the old
man served me a riddle.
Wise from these meaningful words that escaped me, I returned to my
business and inquired.
- Tell me, have you seen a gibbon around here with a felt hat?
6
 - Yes, the saint went to the wizard's temple. He seemed frightened and
gasped as if he had seen his death with his own eyes.
Where is the wizard's temple?
Just two steps from the arena.
And the arena?
At the end of the hallway.
Do you have a watch?
It's 12:54.
I followed the conveyor belt and arrived at the place where animated toys
were ruthlessly destroying each other. I knew that while annihilating, they
mimicked pain, mimicked despair, and in the end, mimicked death, but when I saw
them, it seemed like much more. I should not have cared, but I became saddened to
the brink of depression.
Does everyone look the same? Do all factories go mad?
An imposing door marked the end of the factory. It had "Arena" written on
it. Once inside, two dolls grabbed my hands and dragged me into the middle of the
arena. I didn't resist, not wanting to mimic violence. When the dolls in the packed
stands saw me, they began to scream wildly.
I looked carefully. The holy gibbon was hiding somewhere high in the
stands, keeping his head hidden like an ostrich, with only his trembling and pink
bottom visible.
The golden robot appeared with a microphone and announced like a true
sports commentator:
- Tonight, you are in for a memorable event. A life-and-death battle between
our undefeated champion and the dancing rabbit, with the idiotic doll mask. Only
one will see tomorrow.
Boss entered the arena to the jeers of the crowd, with two hooks stuck in his
ring-tailed behind.
The robot threw two boiled carrots at me, pretending they were weapons.
Boss stared defiantly at the doll-audience, which he greeted with obscene
gestures, receiving in return boiled eggs and whistles.
In the middle of the arena, a pole was installed, as if the dolls were expecting
a lascivious dance, not a fight.
- Maybe now you understand why I hate them and why I ordered you to
sacrifice yourself like a gentleman, killing as many as possible. You didn't want to
7
listen to me... The mask that makes you look like them shows clearly whose side
you're on, and that drives me crazy, traitor. I treated you like a father, put you on
the strip tease from an early age; otherwise, you would have ended up on the
streets. But when it came time to repay me with a beautiful explosion, you turned
away. That's why I'll eliminate you with a smile.
The prospect of death moved me, and I squeezed the carrots in my paws
spasmodically until they became puree.
A rather ridiculous phase followed, if it weren't for its tragic undertones.
Boss, as he approached to make me a rag, skated foolishly in the puree and
fell comically, impaling himself on his own hooks. The whole room laughed
loudly, as in silent movies.
That was it.
The champion didn't move anymore, and the spectators, who expected a
great confrontation with twists, wild battle cries, drama, and a lot of blood, let out a
murmur of dissatisfaction.
The robot stormed into the arena, examined the champion, and dryly
announced:
- Boss is dead. Time of death, 12:05. Then, while six metallic policemen
cheerfully cleared the scene with synchronized gestures, the robot theatrically
announced: We have a new champion, the masked rab-b-b-bit.
The mask increased my sympathy capital. The hall erupted in cheers. The
dolls hugged each other, mimicking sensational enthusiasm.
The feeling transferred to me as well.
Caught in the wave, I begged for applause like a beggar, executed an
exceptional twerk, then raised my paws triumphantly.
I was someone...
Then, a thunderous reverberation from the ceiling, followed by a bloody
lightning, struck the arena, causing a shower of sparks from the metal bars. The
monkey fell charred.
- Run, it's starting... I heard a desperate voice from the stands.
- What?
- The red rain.
I felt the first drops in my palm. They were heavier than water. Shortly after,
the touched spots caused unbearable burning sensations. I urgently took shelter
under a stand. From there, I saw the dolls, who hadn't had time to escape. It was a
8
nightmare what was happening to them. In a few moments, they were entirely
dissolved by the acidity of the red rain.
When everything was over, only the robot and I were alive.
It was 11:56.
- Let's go to the wizard. Only he can stop the disasters here, said the robot,
who seemed to know more than I did.
- To the temple? How do we get there?
- It's just two steps away. We just need to get rid of the killer hens.
- And? Is it difficult?
- A bit... So far, besides the dolls, which are not edible, no one has escaped...
We took some winding corridors, then came face to face with them. They
scared us to death. Strange chickens... They had a mean look and clucked
furiously. We tried to retreat, but it was too late. They ran after us like raptors after
prey.
- The window, open the window! I screamed hysterically at the robot.
- What's with her, dragging you along? he pretended to be foolish.
- Open it!
- Easy there, brother. It's your fight; I'm metallic... he insisted, with a touch
of insolence.
In the end, he opened it, and then we took refuge against a vertical wall. The
hens kept going, and we heard them massacring the WC canteen customers.
We returned to the chicken room and found the entrance to the wizard's
temple.
There were 3 minutes left until 12 o'clock.
The entrance was, in fact, an endless pit.
The robot insisted on me jumping first, and he didn't follow. I closed my
eyes and threw myself... upwards. I ascended and kept ascending, pulled by a
strong current until the pit shrank, and I found myself stuck in it like a cork in a
demijohn.
Then, on the side, I saw a door that read Temple, followed by the crazy
indication to wipe your feet well. In the absence of a doorbell, I knocked
insistently on the door with my ears.
No one answered, so I increased the frequency.

9
 Eventually, the door opened by itself, and I could slip inside. It was an
indescribable crush. Plastic dolls with serious personality problems wanted all
kinds of potions.
The wizard came out sweaty and nervous and shouted to the crowd.
- Anyone else who wants potions can come tomorrow at the same time
because I've finished 10 batches of elixirs.
They all left, grumbling sadly.
- What do you want?
- To know who I am and what purpose I serve.
- Ah, the great truths of life... That's complicated.
He walked slowly toward his office. We had wasted a lot of time in line. I
looked despondently at the wizard's pendulum.
It was 12:59.
Fortunately, the old man reappeared quickly, with a crystal ball under his
arm.
- Are you related to the old man from the factory?
- I am the old man from the factory, he replied, amused. We saw each other
three minutes ago. Otherwise, I've known you for a long time. I kept you alive.
I was left dumbfounded. I hadn't considered the old man. He seemed so
insignificant...
- Thank you for protecting me! But... Why?
- Because you're my favorite in this crazy world. I also have the right to root
for someone, don't I?
- How should I address you?
- They call me the clockmaker, but I'm good at more than that. If you want
answers, look into my crystal ball. You'll understand.
I looked, and everything cleared up. Now I knew what was going on with
me, and I had learned that the door to the outside was right here, in the temple.
- Why me?
- Because that's how it is in the canon.
I didn't have time to tell the others what was coming. It wouldn't have helped
them anyway. Then the pendulum struck for the first time. The wizard noticed,
smiling oddly, as if saying goodbye.
- It's 12 o'clock...
A hidden door in the wall opened, creaking.
10
 The miraculous clock in the small town square began mechanically
unfolding a circular story with frogs and dolls, wizards, and gorillas, but especially
with an invincible rabbit as the main character.
Tourists filled the square because every day, the crazy clockmaker who
invented the clock and who, according to legend, still lived in the tower, told a
completely different story through the movement of the characters.
How he had thought everything out remained a mystery.
The clock struck 12 times, and then the tower that had housed it for centuries
collapsed with a horrifying noise, in a huge cloud of dust. Some said it was a kind
of implosion, but no one believed them. Most of those in the square blamed the old
age of the building, which had not been reinforced in the last century.
In the fall, I managed to wonder how I could save myself.
Then a little hand took me out of the rubble, saying...
- Look, mommy, what a beautiful bunny I found!

11