All employees at my office have been through mandatory sexual harrassment training, whether we were pretty good at it already or not. I didn’t get much out of it personally even though I know there’s always room for improvement. The trainer used a goofy little gender-neutral stuffed toy — a smiley face with arms and legs — as his model employee, named it “Henrietta,” and in every scenario presented asked us “How would Henrietta feel about this?” Henrietta would be horrified by my desk.

Not by the picture of Richard Simmons someone pinned up next to my computer, and not by the other picture of Richard Simmons someone taped to the handset of my phone. No, it’s my toys. I have various toys and action figures standing on the wall all around the perimeter of my cubicle: The Tick, Mucus Tick, Space Ghost, the Alien, etc. I also have scattered throughout them all small rubber bunny rabbits about half an inch tall in various “action poses.” The bunnies don’t really do anything but I thought they made a nice counterpoint to the machismo of Space Ghost and the others. Plus, they’re cute.

Well, someone keeps fucking with my bunnies: they keep making the bunnies fuck with each other. Every morning when I come in, I find a bunny orgy going on — bunnies are going at it doggie-style, missionary position, 69ing, etc. Oral sex is a prominent theme. Right now looking to my left I see a stack of three bunnies, two going at it 69 style with the third on top buggering the middle one. I’ve got bunny porn going on over here.

Henrietta would be appalled, I think.