As long as you’re careful there should be no harm in looking. You move slowly through the grasses, taking care not to trod on any rabbits or eggs by accident. Up ahead, you see the SAMM has left the table with his wicker basket, leaving it free for Diega, who is getting a bit too close as she leans down to inspect the eggs. She looks up and seems startled to see you, but then smiles.

“They’re very beautiful, yes?” she says, gesturing at the eggs. The table is abuzz from the collective power of them. They seem to come in all different colours and patterns, every one unique: some palest blue with soft gold flecks, others dark purple with silvery lines. A few seem not quite right, blotchy, their rubber peeling and their vibrations feeble. These must be the ones that end up in the Very, Very Bad chute.

“Yes, very beautiful,” you agree, looking down at them, and you feel a delicate hand on your shoulder. Diega is inches away and fixing you with the same dazzling smile that has apparently brought millions of followers to her Instagram page.

“Bella, can you help me out with something?” she asks, and you see her pulling a sleek bejeweled cell phone out of her pocket. You back away, glancing toward Kisska to see if she’s spotted it.

“You didn’t turn your phone in?” you say in disbelief. Diega shrugs. Suddenly you remember.

“Did you get a DM from someone you didn’t know before you came here?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

Diega’s eyebrows jump a little, but then she laughs. “Oh sweetie, all I get are DMs from people I don’t know. I mean, look at me.”

You’re still frowning. She rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I just need one tiny little photo for my fans. Being an influencer is a full time job! I’m so close to beating out Nata$ha Clemenza to become the second most famous Instagram model in Northwestern Italy.” She licks her lips. “I can almost taste it. Just get one quick shot for me and I promise I won’t take out my phone for the rest of the tour!”

You don’t want to get Diega in trouble. You remember her theatrical selfie-taking at the front gates — if you leave her to her own devices she’ll almost definitely get caught.

“Fine, fine,” you say, and Diega claps excitedly, handing you the phone. She squats in front of the table, her elbows on her knees, adopting a look of faux boredom. You make sure Kisska is occupied and you hold up the phone to snap the picture.

“Let me see, I might want to get a wide-angle,” Diega says, already reaching for her phone as she starts to get up. But as she moves out of the squat, a rabbit hops between her feet, catching her off balance. She flails a minute, trying to steady herself. You reach out to grab her hand but it’s too late — you’re pulled forwards and the two of you crash into the table, sending eggs scattering everywhere.

There’s an eerie silence. It’s not just that the conversation has stopped. The rabbits have all stopped too, their vibration ceasing in a single second. The sudden stillness in the air makes your chest seize up and you push yourself to your knees. Diega doesn’t seem to notice that anything has changed.

“Did I look cute in the picture at least?” she says feebly from her sprawled position on the table.

But you don’t respond. Suddenly the vibrations have returned, but dialed up this time, to a steady roar like pounding surf. They sound almost...angry.

“Diega, we need to go,” you say urgently, trying to pull her to her feet. As you struggle to lift her, she gasps, pointing behind you.

“Oddio,” she says in a hushed voice, “I conigli.”

The tall grass rustles menacingly as the swarm of rabbits approaches, hopping with surprising ferocity towards the pair of you. There’s no time to run — they are on you almost immediately, batting at the two of you with their rubbery ears, lifting you up so you are on top of the pile they have made with their bodies. More are coming from the grasses to join the flock, building the pile higher and higher as you struggle to get down. You can hear JoJo calling your name desperately over their incessant buzzing.

You look over to see Diega atop her own rabbit pile, frantically trying to record a video as they move her towards the sorting chutes.

“How do I start an Instagram Live?” she shouts at you, “HOW??”

With this the rabbits tip her over unceremoniously into the Very, Very Bad chute, her hand reaching up to get one final snapshot of the room before she disappears through the hole with a shout. Before you have time to protest, you find yourself being moved toward the chutes as well. The rabbits seem to stop for a moment, squabbling amongst each other, before bringing you up to the rim of the Very, Very Good chute.

“Please don’t!” you shout uselessly, before they dump you over into the opening, the brilliant sunlight of the rabbit room disappearing behind you as you hear the last echoes of JoJo yelling your name. The sound is overcome by the buzzing that is coming from below, a buzzing that surrounds you as you land in a pile of vibrating eggs.

You sit up and look around, trying to make things out in the shadow. The crate of eggs you have landed in lies on a train track that leads into nothingness. The only light is coming from the entrance of the chute above you, which is momentarily blocked as Kisska pops her head over to look down at you.

“Terrible bad luck!” she shouts cheerfully, “Don’t fret, the SAMMs will be along to get you in no time. Hang tight now!”

“Wait! Can’t you–”

You’re cut off as the crate jolts to life, whizzing you along the tracks into the darkness. You lay down and close your eyes, feeling frightened and yet somehow still pleasantly lulled by the vibrations at your back. You zoom through the underground tunnels, your eyes still tightly closed, the only sensation the eggs against your body, cradling you.

Then just as suddenly you stop. You open your eyes and sit up to find a brightly lit room in front of you, a warehouse of sorts where crates upon crates of gleaming eggs are being inspected by a large group of SAMMs. One looks up at you and starts speaking excitedly to the others, pointing.

“Help!” you shout as you feel the crate starting to tip, sending you and the eggs over and into a larger holding crate below. The fall is short, just a few feet, but you barely have time to recover before a barrage of eggs comes tumbling over you. You try to claw your way up to the surface, managing to just pop your head into the open air as the last eggs fall from the transport crate. Your body is pinned under the weight of the eggs, their buzzing intensified.

As you move to extricate yourself, your squirming pushes you back and forth against the eggs. They brush the tips of your toes, nestle themselves in your armpits, press against your sides. The tickling feeling is overwhelming and you start to writhe with laughter. You know if you just tried a bit harder you could pull yourself free but — the laughing feels good. The pent-up feelings of anger and frustration, with work, with your flatmates, with everything: the uncontrollable giggling is melting it away.

As the laughter clenches your stomach muscles, another feeling starts to build. The eggs pressed against your front move with you as your body twists and you feel the buzzing against your nipples and your clit, a light tingling sensation that mixes with the intensity of the muscle contractions. The laughter moves through you, tears streaming down your cheeks, as the tingling builds into something stronger, warmth spreading through your body, your abs aching, your whole body shaking under the weight of the eggs. It builds and builds until you feel yourself cumming, hard, your moans mingled with your continued laughter.

A wave of relief washes over you, the last miserable months stripped away. You don’t have the energy to move to the surface, and anyway why would you want to? You close your eyes and let the vibrations surround you, letting the intensity build again, laughing and laughing as you hear the SAMMs clambering up to pull you free.