Author: Dennard Dayle

Don’t worry, Bunnykill isn’t some artless lunatic drawing rabbit murder on the asylum walls. It’s an inspired lunatic animating rabbit murder. That line separates The Matrix’s lobby from a national tragedy. And justifies Newgrounds.

If that rings a bell, I’m sorry about your arthritis. Comedy recaps have reached flash cartoons. You’re ancient, and dying. The dust in your once-vital veins has hardened into disdain for new music. These are the last punchlines before your knees and grandchildren betray you. Enjoy them.

As for infants/mummies: Newgrounds was the mothership for animated violence and pornography. But unlike Crunchyroll, all independent. Zero-Suit Samus vs. Normal Ayane was a labor of love, made with negative hope of ROI. A ruthless voting system trained creators for industries run by demons.

They also had an elite slogan:

Short, distinct, and true. Much too true. Today, we call their worst excesses “internet culture.” Skimming mobile game ideas from Newgrounds kept the laziest, most lootbox-friendly studios alive. Similarly, the flash portal showed how much free-floating talent existed, and how little you could pay them. Finally, low-wit and high-invective game parodies were a generous cultural warning.

In 2006, they picked up a friendlier motto:

Boo. Miss me with that. Alienation was a feature: Newgrounds had gamers attempting art films, art students attempting Mario jokes, and madmen landing art films about Mario. Other sites gave us “Everything, By Everyone” and killed the future. When the last Facebook clone dies, I’m dancing to the Ewok victory song, and posting it nowhere.

Over time, some people got good. The chosen evolved from detention stick figures to expulsion films. YouTube has hints of that, but tends to stunt creative growth at fourteen. And personal growth. And dating habits.

Today, Newgrounds echoes a pre-betrayal DeviantArt. Still a hub for violence and porn, but with blogs and no plans to feed you to SHODAN. We’ll focus on violence today, since my porn tastes are private.

That said, I have centuries of action movies saved in a folder called “Homework.” Newgrounds deserves some credit as a gateway drug for punching. Many of you were active users, the memories are just locked behind a trigger phrase. Let me help.

Recess. Computer Lab. Line Rider. Pop-up. Hentai. Suspension. Recess. Computer lab. Site blocked. Boredom. Facebook. Brain death. Cambridge Analytica. Imperial decline. Terminate Mark Z.

Anyway, Bunnykill.

On a mortal site, I’d recap Madness Combat, a crossover hit among guidance counselor regulars. But you’re Troom Troom survivors, so I have to cut deeper. Bunnykill took Madness Combat’s gimmick (side-scrolling mass murder) and replaced humans with rabbits.

Yes, rabbits.

Black-eyed, floppy-eared, bushy tailed rabbits.

I don’t know why, and I don’t have to. Grant Morrisson said kids are sharper audiences, since they take weirdness in stride. I see it. As a wordy class clown, I never asked why the endless assassins were rabbits. They just were. Now, as a taxpaying clown, I waste valuable rabbit-killing time with questions.

The author “Mottis” has no one to answer to or impress, so he could just like rabbits. Or despise them. Their shiny black eyes might inspire ageless hate, with animation alone keeping him off Greenpeace’s Most Wanted list.

Maybe it’s branding: plenty of artists remade the Crazy 88 fight without money or feet. Bunnykill bet that adding rabbits stood out enough for coverage twenty years later. Advantage, Bunnykill.

For my money, rabbits soften the genre. The taboos around pet-murder are strong, but flimsier than those for neighbors. Dogs are a likely exception, but I’ve never owned anything larger than a football. And after this article, I can only buy pets in international waters.

Now, Bunnykill’s a deep pull. I think only three other people saw-

Nevermind.

So far, I’ve played keep-away with my attitude towards Bunnykill. Is it finger-wagging time? Are we looking at our shoes and reflecting on animal cruelty? Pushing web culture’s nose in a carpet stain and saying “This is why you don’t get Beetleborgs?”

This kicks ass.

Or at least peaks high. We’ll walk through Bunnykill 3, the crowd favorite. The first Bunnykill is a bit of edgy fluff. You can see an unmedicated spark, but the creator’s still figuring out keyframes.

Bunnykill 2’s better, but it’s not in space. The visuals are smoother, the music’s almost listenable, and the fisticuffs pick up the rapid pace uniting Superfighters, Japanese Spider-Man, and pre-McMahon Nakamura. It’s just held down by gravity.

Bunnykill 3’s on the moon. I can’t waste your time elsewhere.

You’ll notice the same hero/survivor in each shot. This walking PETA shelter’s name is Snowball, which doesn’t matter. You’re better off memorizing Steven Seagal quotes. Just know that he’s the white rabbit, a color that stands out against chrome and gore.

How’d Snowball get from Nameless Karate Forest to Named Karate Moon? Also irrelevant. Bunnykill entries have negative continuity, which is correct. Retaining Bunnykill lore is a cry for help. Returning viewers should think “Ah, so I didn’t dream this.”

Granted, there’s an opening crawl.

Absolutely not. I refuse. We live in the future, with video timelines and streamlined rights. And Mottis misspelled “threat” twice. Only comedy writers will remember “Doctor Sludge,” while the sane world jumps ahead.

Bunnykill 3’s the first time I can tell Mottis likes rabbits, and not in the Lola Bunny sense. He finds this spin cute. Which is still wholly deranged, but a much nicer asylum. Take this guard napping through the local apocalypse:

Or Snowball’s reaction to peeling a gun off a fresh corpse stack:

That’s an “Oh boy, pellets!” face. Or at least intended as such. Snowball’s based on the animator’s pet, adding a hint of love to the Wuxia plot armor. I get that. My first manuscript was called Mr. Claws Goes to Congress, and parole won’t let me summarize it. Mr. Claws and Snowball had a lot in common.

Again, Bunnykill 3’s best asset is speed. Snowball’s lasered his next victim before your brain or conscience processed the last kill. I could crack wise about no one having arms or two character traits. But this is, again, basement cinema. Using Adobe software, which actively resists mankind.

By the time the cliffhanger comes around, we’ve beaten an NFL game’s body count:

As for events, Snowball covers a space sequel’s bases: find a lightsaber, riff on the Death Star infiltration, and try robot murder to keep things fresh. The robot murder doesn’t go too well.

In the first half, at least. Seven minutes were uploaded as Bunnykill 3, Part 1. Then the creator fucked off for two years.

Life gets in the way. That’s a risk anywhere, but particularly common in amateur animation, professional comics, and campaign promises. The alternative’s artistic prison, and that tends to break people.

Bunnykill 3, Vol. II hit in 2007, after earthbound terrorism’s defeat. But the threat persisted in space. We open with Snowball looking good and dicked:

Honestly? Nice breakthrough for a Flash rampage. Few things dilute action like invincible leads. Mercifully, Bunnykill 1’s final boss shows up to steal the kill.

I hear you: he resembles Snowball with sunglasses. But he’s actually Snowball with sunglasses and two guns. That’s two hedgehog’s worth of changes, or at least a half-Luigi.

The logic within the short? Jack-all. But RPG rules were a given on Newgrounds. You beat the boss, you got the summon. It’s the closest users came to understanding friendship. Naturally, the rest of this fever dream’s a tag match.

Bunnykill’s disturbing if your sanity fills a thimble. But I enjoy watching someone on the fringe grow, high art or otherwise. And violence. But mostly independent creativity. With beheadings.

Luckily, I only saw this during my most formative years. Bunnykill’s audience just aged into possible presidents, but it’s out of our systems now. Just hand over the nuclear codes and sleep well.

Conservative parenting must be tough, being human culture’s dead weight and all. Now imagine finding this on the kids’ devil-box. You’d pay an exorcist’s installment plan. The well-meaning amateurs at purity camp wouldn’t be enough.

Now Newgrounds animators have their own kids. The site turns thirty in two years. Which reminds me: I’ll die eventually. Maybe even soon! Time to get started on a pyramid. I was worried about all the whipping, but now I’m thoroughly desensitized. I just hope I reach as many minds and watchlists as Bunnykill.

…
This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Greg Cunningham, who died playing Line Rider. Some say if you put your ear to a Dell you can still hear Mrs. Tabbett give him detention.