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Description
Mature Content for some blood. Maybe I'm just paranoid, though. It's not really violent at all.

Ok, so the scanner kind of killed the colors. It looked more...creepy in the hard copy. No, it's not an albino rabbit, it's blue eyes are just glazed over in red.
It goes with my "Holy Hand Grenade" picture. As with that, the Killer Rabbit also belongs to Monty Python.

TIM: Behold the cave of Caerbannog!
ARTHUR: Right! Keep me covered.
???: What with?
ARTHUR: Just keep me covered.
TIM: Too late!
[chord]
ARTHUR: What?
TIM: There he is!
ARTHUR: Where?
TIM: There!
ARTHUR: What, behind the rabbit?
TIM: It is the rabbit!
ARTHUR: You silly sod! You got us all worked up!
TIM: Well, that's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul,
cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on.
ROBIN: You tit! I soiled my armor I was so scared!
TIM: Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide, it's
a killer!
???: Get stuffed!
TIM: It'll do you a trick, mate!
???: Oh, yeah?
ROBIN: You manky Scot's git!
TIM: I'm warning you!
ROBIN: What's he do, nibble your bum?
TIM: He's got huge, sharp-- he can leap about-- look at the
bones!
ARTHUR: Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!
BORS: Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin'
right up!
TIM: Look!
[squeak]
BORS: Aaaugh!
[chord]
ARTHUR: Jesus Christ!
TIM: I warned you!
ROBIN: I did it again!
TIM: I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew
it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't
it? Well, it's always the same, I always--
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up!
TIM: --But do they listen to me?--
ARTHUR: Right!
TIM: -Oh, no--
KNIGHTS: Charge!
[squeak squeak]
KNIGHTS: Aaaaugh! Aaaugh! etc.
KNIGHTS: Run away! Run away!
TIM: Haw haw haw. Haw haw haw. Haw haw.
ARTHUR: Right. How many did we lose?
???: Gawain.
???: Hector.
ARTHUR: And Boris. That's five.
GALAHAD: Three, sir.
ARTHUR: Three. Three. And we'd better not risk another frontal
assault, that rabbit's dynamite.
ROBIN: Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up and go and change your armor.
GALAHAD: Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will
make a mistake.
ARTHUR: Like what?
GALAHAD: Well,....
ARTHUR: Have we got bows?
???: No.
LAUNCELOT: We have the Holy Hand Grenade.

When it squeeks, it rips out peoples' throats. The puddle of blood at the bottom could have been better, I know.

Description
Mature Content for some blood. Maybe I'm just paranoid, though. It's not really violent at all.

Ok, so the scanner kind of killed the colors. It looked more...creepy in the hard copy. No, it's not an albino rabbit, it's blue eyes are just glazed over in red.
It goes with my "Holy Hand Grenade" picture. As with that, the Killer Rabbit also belongs to Monty Python.

TIM: Behold the cave of Caerbannog!
ARTHUR: Right! Keep me covered.
???: What with?
ARTHUR: Just keep me covered.
TIM: Too late!
[chord]
ARTHUR: What?
TIM: There he is!
ARTHUR: Where?
TIM: There!
ARTHUR: What, behind the rabbit?
TIM: It is the rabbit!
ARTHUR: You silly sod! You got us all worked up!
TIM: Well, that's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul,
cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on.
ROBIN: You tit! I soiled my armor I was so scared!
TIM: Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide, it's
a killer!
???: Get stuffed!
TIM: It'll do you a trick, mate!
???: Oh, yeah?
ROBIN: You manky Scot's git!
TIM: I'm warning you!
ROBIN: What's he do, nibble your bum?
TIM: He's got huge, sharp-- he can leap about-- look at the
bones!
ARTHUR: Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!
BORS: Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin'
right up!
TIM: Look!
[squeak]
BORS: Aaaugh!
[chord]
ARTHUR: Jesus Christ!
TIM: I warned you!
ROBIN: I did it again!
TIM: I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew
it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't
it? Well, it's always the same, I always--
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up!
TIM: --But do they listen to me?--
ARTHUR: Right!
TIM: -Oh, no--
KNIGHTS: Charge!
[squeak squeak]
KNIGHTS: Aaaaugh! Aaaugh! etc.
KNIGHTS: Run away! Run away!
TIM: Haw haw haw. Haw haw haw. Haw haw.
ARTHUR: Right. How many did we lose?
???: Gawain.
???: Hector.
ARTHUR: And Boris. That's five.
GALAHAD: Three, sir.
ARTHUR: Three. Three. And we'd better not risk another frontal
assault, that rabbit's dynamite.
ROBIN: Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up and go and change your armor.
GALAHAD: Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will
make a mistake.
ARTHUR: Like what?
GALAHAD: Well,....
ARTHUR: Have we got bows?
???: No.
LAUNCELOT: We have the Holy Hand Grenade.

When it squeeks, it rips out peoples' throats. The puddle of blood at the bottom could have been better, I know.