Donkey Con and Bunny Boilers

My family has a long history of bonfires, whose doesn't. From the dark ages (2 years before I was born) to the last fire at the old house, we burnt anything and everything, but never me, and I was helping from the age of 2.
One of the highlights (apart from putting fireworks into the fire) was the Kangaroo Court. This venerable institution was created by Jof originally, when she saw something in a charity shop that was just so horrible it had to be summarily incinerated, in a touching ceremony with pomp and hatred.
The 3 kittens in a basket were made of fluff, I hasten to point out, and were so twee and full of ersatz cuteness that only a childless maiden aunt could love them.
So we shoved French bangers (petards) where only veterinarians dare to go and put them on the fire, declared them guilty of excessive pointless gruesome daintiness and sentenced them to Death By Fire. The bonfire was lit beneath them and they exploded into the night to many drunken catcalls (aha) from the crowd.
Thus it became a tradition to find the Rampant Sardine Ashtray of the day with its cheap nastiness, such as a knitted praying-angel, condemn it, and burn it. Here are the kits in question with just some of the fireworks we used that fateful night.
So when Jof said there's a raffia donkey in the front garden of a house outside my school, we leapt at the chance. We hoped it'd have a silly straw hat and would burn merrily on the Scout campfire, a nice little surprise for them, do a wicker man-style celebration.
What did we see? A wire-frame rabbit plant pot wrapped in rotting string. What a con. OK, the string would have burnt once you'd removed the shredded plastic inner lining, but it was not to be. We had to bring it all the way home and left it in the yard to frighten Jof with its button eyes (Jof has Fear-Of-buttons).
If we'd burnt it, it would have made the entire Scout troop Bunny-boilers, or at least Bunny-bakers, and that's not fair as only 2 of them will go on to be incarcerated for crimes against the Planet, see my post of 17th July 2047.
In gymnastics I swung off the horizontal bars and cracked my knee, on the same leg as where I cut my knee open on the stage (3 days ago) and crunched my toe on the lifeguard ladder (2 days ago). Might as well just cut off the whole leg.