There were seven identical rabbits, and because they were each named Monroe, the only way you could tell them apart was by the color of their capes. This was all fine and good most days, but on laundry day, when the rabbits washed the capes in the river and dried them on the tree branch, it made things very difficult.
One such day, Monroe attempted to organize a game of baseball while the capes dried, and so he said, “The teams will be Monroe, Monroe, Monroe, and Monroe against Monroe, Monroe, and Monroe.” The fighting and bickering lasted well past laundry day as each Monroe attempted to be on the very best team. And there were many shouts of, “Did you mean Monroe, or the other Monroe?” Everyone ended up with a headache.
Since then, Monroe, Monroe, Monroe, Monroe, Monroe, Monroe, and Monroe remained quiet on laundry day. It was best to stay silent rather than try to have a conversation with another Monroe. It would get too confusing.
However, on one very windy laundry day, just as the last Monroe hung his cape to dry, a strong wind with the force of steam engine blew all seven capes off the branch and the capes were never seen again.
“What do you we do now?” Monroe asked.
“Can we buy new capes?” Monroe pleaded.
“We haven’t enough money,” lamented Monroe.
“Which Monroe are you?” Monroe questioned.
“I’m Monroe,” Monroe claimed.
“This won’t work,” Monroe noted. “We need new names.”
Monroe then had an idea and so he announced, “Let’s give each other numbers. It will be easier to have discussions that way. I will be Number One.”
“Why do you get to be number one?” Monroe objected.
“Because I am the most Monroest of all seven Monroes. Therefore, I am Number One Monroe,” said Number One Monroe.
“That’s not very fair,” Monroe responded.
“He’s right. It’s not fair. Clearly I am Number One Monroe,” asserted the new Number One Monroe.
“No you’re not. I am,” warned the newest Number One Monroe.
“This causes too much fighting,” whispered Monroe. “Let agree that no Monroe can be Number One. It’s only fair.”
“I agree,” said Monroe. “And I will be Number Two Monroe.”
“You will not,” yelled Monroe. “I should be the Number Two Monroe!”
“My head hurts,” said Monroe.
“How about if no one can be any number lower than ten? That way, you can’t be Number One or Number Two and there will be less fighting,” Monroe reasoned.
“I will be number eleven, because that is the very best possible number that is greater than ten,” said Monroe Number Eleven.
“Not fair,” cried Monroe.
“What if the numbers start at 129, because such numbers are so very high that surely we won’t fight about it,” offered Monroe.
“This is getting us nowhere,” Monroe mumbled.
“What if we gave ourselves nicknames,” Monroe suggested.
“My nickname is now Karate Pirate,” said Karate Pirate.
“You cannot give yourself your own nickname,” said Monroe.
“Yes,” added Monroe. “Monroe is right. A nickname comes from your friends. We should give each other nicknames.”
“That’s silly,” said Karate Pirate. “I like my name and I don’t want any other name.”
“But that’s not how it works,” expressed Monroe. “I will give you a new nickname, and that nickname is Buckets.”
“I don’t like that name at all,” said Buckets.
“You don’t get to decide,” said the rabbit whose name was about to be Baby Doll Diaper.
“Then I will give you a nickname and that nickname is Baby Doll Diaper,” Buckets yelled.
“This is nonsense,” Monroe remarked.
“Your new nickname is Belly Ache,” screamed Buckets.
“It is not,” hollered Belly Ache.
“If Buckets is not Karate Pirate, I would like to be Karate Pirate,” said the rabbit who was never to be named Karate Pirate.
“No,” Monroe claimed. “I will give you a nickname, and that name is Mustard.”
“Then your name is Weak Douglas,” Mustard said to Weak Douglas.
“Let all go back to our original names,” decided Monroe. “I can’t take any more fighting.”
But the fighting continued for three whole days, during which every Monroe was given a nickname and argued about it and names were changed. Finally, someone had an idea.
“I have an idea,” decreed Baby Doll Diaper. “Let’s all just be quiet. If we don’t say anything, we don’t need to use our names.”
“That makes sense,” said Muddy Licorice.
“I will do it if you do do it,” Glob Glob McSlob said to Snotter.
“Fair enough,” said Snotter.
“Then I will be quiet too,” said Ham Toilet.
“I think we are decided,” said Weak Douglas. “What about you?”
And Crybaby Oyster Smooch simply nodded.
From that day forward, rabbits never spoke again.
And now you know.