A Terrible Thing to Happen to  All That Cheese

Mrs. Bunny's hat clubbers had their weekly potluck last night.  Mrs. Bunny wanted to make something special but something which the hat clubbers would still eat.  She happened on a recipe for mac and cheese with crab.  She had noticed that of late a lot of people seemed to be putting lobster in their mac and cheese but being on the west coast she found crab, although expensive, more available.  So, looking away from the price tag, she bought a pound.  Also four kinds of fancy cheese and shallots.  Shallots, I ask you!  Then she spent an hour putzing about the kitchen with it.  Finally that evening, feeling virtuous, she carted it to the potluck.  Mrs. Ruskeebunny was there with her famous jello sour cream mold.
"This is sure to be the best dish tonight,"  said Mrs. Ruskeebunny who valued honesty above modesty, or, as Mrs. Bunny thought to herself, good common sense.
"This is not a contest,"  said Mrs. Bunny putting her dish on the table with the rest but privately thinking, "I WIN!  I WIN!  I WIN!"
That is until later that evening when she bit into it.  It tasted exactly like tuna noodle casserole.  And not a particularly good version.  She is sure there is a lesson in here for everyone but frankly, she doesn't care.  I have not been put on this earth to teach anybody anything, she thought sourly, watching Mrs. Ruskeebunny's jello sour cream mold disappear while half her casserole remained stiffening in its dish. I have not been put on this earth to teach anyone anything or apparently to make crab mac and cheese.
When she got home Mr. Bunny asked her how everyone had liked the crabby mac and cheese as he called it.
"Shut up,"  said Mrs. Bunny and went to bed.
Some days are like that.  Even in Rabbitville.