Bunny was tired.
Not regular tired. Not "long day at the office" tired.
Glitter tired.
It had started innocently enough. Emma kept asking questions. Relentless, sharp questions that had no good answers.
"Is a hot dog a sandwich or a taco?"
"If you fold a piece of paper in half infinity times, does it become a black hole?"
"Why can't Reginald just BE happy?"
Bunny had tried redirecting her. He'd tried logic. He'd tried assigning her actual work.
Nothing worked.
So he'd started designing puzzles.
Give her something to DO with all that restless brilliance. Something that would occupy her mind for more than three minutes.
First attempt: Jigsaw puzzle.
Emma finished it in twelve minutes. Upside down. Without looking at the picture.
"Too easy," she said.
Second attempt: One of those impossible wooden box puzzles where you have to remove a piece without breaking anything.
Emma studied it for exactly forty seconds, twisted something Bunny didn't even know twisted, and handed him the freed piece.
"Next?"
Third attempt: He'd tried everything. Riddles. Logic problems. Increasingly complicated tasks.
Every single time: Emma solved them faster than he could set them up.
And somehow—somehow—every puzzle ended with glitter.
Glitter on the table. Glitter on the floor. Glitter in Bunny's fur. Glitter in his pockets. Glitter in his soul.
He didn't know how it kept happening. Emma claimed innocence. But Bunny knew.
So today, he was trying something different.
Something elegant. Something that would actually require thought.
He pulled out a pink paper triangle. Drew a line down the middle with his best black ink pen. Then, very carefully, placed one tiny speck of glitter on each of the two bottom points.
Emma watched, suspicious.
"What's this?"
"A puzzle," Bunny said. "A real one."
"Looks like a triangle with glitter."
"Correct. And your task—" He set it down on the desk carefully. "—is to get the glitter from this point—" He pointed to the left corner. "—to this point." He pointed to the right corner.
Emma frowned. "That's it?"
"That's it. But—" Bunny held up a paw. "You cannot touch the glitter. You cannot blow on it. And you cannot cross the line down the middle."
Emma stared at the triangle.
Bunny leaned back in his chair, satisfied.
This one would take time. Maybe even hours. The glitter couldn't be moved directly. The line couldn't be crossed. She'd have to think—really think—about how to solve it.
Maybe she'd try sliding the paper. Maybe she'd try tilting it. Maybe she'd realize it was impossible and finally, finally, admit defeat.
Bunny closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
Silence.
Blessed silence.
For approximately eleven seconds.
"Done."
Bunny's eyes snapped open.
Emma was holding the triangle. Folded. The two bottom points pressed together so the glitter from one side now touched the other.
She handed it to him.
"The glitter's on the other side now. I didn't touch it. I didn't blow on it. And I didn't cross the line."
Bunny stared at the folded triangle.
Then at Emma.
Then back at the triangle.
"You... folded it."
"Yes."
"But the line—"
"Doesn't matter if the space folds," Emma said, as if this were obvious. "The two points are in the same place now. The glitter didn't cross anything. It just... moved through a shorter path."
Bunny opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
No words came.
Slowly—very slowly—he set the triangle down.
Then he lowered his head.
Rested his forehead on the desk.
Directly into a pile of glitter he hadn't noticed was there.
"Are you okay?" Emma asked.
Bunny's voice was muffled against the wood. "No."
"Do you want me to explain the spatial folding theory behind why that worked?"
"No."
"Do you want another puzzle?"
"Absolutely not."
Emma picked up the triangle, unfolded it, and studied the glitter. "You know, this is actually a really elegant demonstration of non-linear problem solving. Most people would assume the barrier matters. But if you fold the dimension—"
"Emma."
"—then the barrier becomes irrelevant because the two points occupy the same coordinate in three-dimensional—"
"Emma."
She paused. "Yes?"
Bunny lifted his head. Glitter sparkled on his forehead. In his eyebrows. Probably in his soul by now.
"Get out."
Emma grinned. "Okay. But just so you know—" She held up the triangle. "This was fun. You should make more like this."
Bunny buried his face in his paws.
Later, when the Queen asked why Bunny looked so defeated, he simply said:
"Emma folded space. With a triangle. And glitter."
The Queen blinked. "Folded... space?"
"She solved quantum tunneling by refusing to acknowledge the existence of barriers."
"That's... actually quite brilliant."
"I know." Bunny brushed glitter off his paw. It immediately reappeared. "That's the problem."