Bugs Bunny has something to show you.
No, it's not his ribcage. It's his shocking mental illness.
Thrilled to die, to be slaughtered, butchered, and eaten, he can still sell even in his current state. But, you forget: this is the state (i.e., dead and skinless, livid organs laid bare) he was born to assume.
For in the world of the suicidefoodist, all life is merely prelude to the main event—death and dismemberment. In that reeking world, Cadaverrabbit is a god. A gristly god holding up as sacred the indomitable urge to be killed.
And so, there he stands, offering himself up again and again, ceaselessly, to a parade of jaded consumers. He wonders, will showing off a little more skeleton make that one extra sale? Will that shot of his bloody peritoneal cavity add a few bucks to his bottom line?
Who are we kidding? Cadaverrabbit doesn't care about such things! This isn't about commerce. It's about being dead and flayed and loving it!
(Thanks to Dr. Adria for the image.)
Addendum: Refresh your memory about other beloved characters from childhood who are hot for suicide!