This is how it went down when DBTY met a real living Rabbit at Paris Paris.
We was hanging in the bar or drinking stolen cocktails on the dance floor when he comes up to us being all drunk and stuff.
He’s like:
“What’s up? You’re not French right?”
So we said:
“Im not, shes not, but they are.”
He’s like:
“Cool, do you like Paris?”
We’re like:
“Cut the crap man, we know all you want to do is score, you rabbits are all the same.”
He’s like:
“Ok, you’re right, I don’t want to be a hypocrite.”
We’re like:
“How did you become a rabbit anyways?”
He’s like:
“To get laid! Of course. So… any chance me be going home with any of you toniiightz? Im in to both dudes and dudettes.”
We’re like:
“He says no, she to, the French guys… wouldn’t count on it.”
He’s like:
“Ok, that sucks.”
We’re like:
“You should really be going after them fine ass rabbit chix hanging out at Pigalle, instead of wasting your time here. They be wanting to do you good, cause of your astonishing looks. Like definitely.”
He’s like:
“Ok, I’ll do that, but you guys seem really cool, can I get ya’ll numbers?”
We goes:
“Nah, sorry rabbit, but u can get your photo taken with us, and maybe we’ll hang, sometime. Hook you up if you come to Stockholm.”
Finally, he’s like:
“Ok, cool. Peace hombres.”
And we’re like:
“Smell ya later!”
(Yup, I know, this used to be in Swedish, but we got some death-threats from our French friends, a mail from some English guy, and a nice letter from an Italian girl all asking us oh so kindly to start writing in English to help them understand.
So… voilà!
From now on DBTY will be strictly in English or French.)
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