#her name is garbage

This is one of my most frequently asked questions. Many people want to know what Nick is going to name her, or how he’s going to replace the letters with an actual, respectable name.

This is the only way I can explain.

(AKA Nick are you fucking kidding me.)

“So!” the rabbit (someone Judy knew from the burrows, maybe- thought there were too many rabbits to tell) patted the small bunny’s head, winding her fingers together to press her closed fists against the side of her face. “What is the name of this little cutie!”

“I’m Nick.” The rabbit faltered. “Oh. Sorry. You mean her? Don’t know what you see in this ratty shit, but sure. It’s GB.”

“Just GB.”

“As of now. Yeah. Just GB.” GB looked up at Nick and smiled, reaching up to try and catch his whiskers. He sneered, flicking her nose. The rabbit before them wasn’t detered.

“Aw, GB!” , she pat the bunny again, the kit’s defiant, wiggling nose just sticking out of the front baby carrier Nick had stuffed her into before braving the sweltering smog. “What a cute name!”

“Hmm.” Said Nick. In the front pack, GB wiggled her arms, squeaking out through the confines.

“So… what’s it stand for?” She pat the babe on the head again. “Oh! Let me guess. It’s for Gabriella, right?”

“No.”

“Oh… uh- Gabrielle?”

“No.”

“Gaby?”

“No.” He passed GB an orange slice and watched it get everywhere. The rabbit in front of them blinked, her own nose starting to twich. Nick took some sort of pity on her when he adjusted the pack and announced, “it’s one of those stupid double names. You know, like TJ.”

“Oh! So who’s names did you combine!”

“No names. Just named her after where I found her.”

“How sweet! So which orphanage-”

He cut in, reaching down to roughly wipe orange pulp off the kits nose, smearing it over her head to watch her squirm. “Garbage,” he said. “I found her in the garbage.”

“… you named her-”

“Garbage Baby.” He donned his shades. “Yup.”

“Uh-”

“Only the best and most refined for my spawn. Isn’t that right, you useless piece of trash!”

Said piece of trash only lifted its arms for another slice of orange.

The rabbit never talked to them again.

(So you see, I cannot name her anything else. Because Nick, despite all claims, is fond of his little trash child. And wants to commemorate that every day by reminding her that she’s garbage.)

(this has been a PSA about trash children and their trash parents)