I met a bunman from an antique lab who said: "Two vast and fluffy legs of stone stand in the fields.
Near them, on the grass half sunk a long-eared visage lies, whose frown and cautious lip, and sneer of cute command tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these rabbit things the hand that mocked them, and the fur that fed.
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Bun, the King of Buns. Look on this Bun, ye fluffy, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal Bun, boundless and bare the lone and level grasses stretch far away."