We shall fight them in the hutches, we shall fight them on the cabbage patches

I saw a rabbit!

He, and his companion, or should I say, accomplice, were next to Olympiaplein.

After careful analysis I decided that they were terrorist rabbits. A bit like Tamil Tigers, but more like revolutionary rabbits. Not that I'm saying the Tamil Tigers are terrorists, that's not my business to say. Nor is it my business to suggest that these were legitimate revolutionary rabbits. As the saying goes, One man's terror-rabbit is another man's freedom tiger.

One had cunningly decided to cloak himself in stealth material. Not only did this mean that he was invisible to American and British radar but also meant that he didn't clash stylistically with his fellow rabbit.

I approached one cautiously. It said nothing. These rabbits have been trained for years in the art of remaining intact under pressure. I was about to offer one of them a cheese and strawberry toastie, but then i realised that they would die from myxomatoasties.

These are probably Syrian fighting rabbits, it occurred to me. Trained in the hot Syrian desert these rabbits possess serious fighting skills and can break your neck with a single rabbit-punch.

One nibbles at some grass and scratches his ear.

Better move away I decide.