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A Letter To The Eggitor

Dear Peeps:

Well, another Easter has come and gone. The eggs have all been found and I have eaten so many carrots even my whiskers have turned orange; it is not a good look. The kids are happy and the parents are exhausted as they are after every holiday. 

Was it me or were you everywhere this year? No offense, but there is only one sher-hop in Easterville and it’s me. You can add all the new flavors that you want, get stale (as many people prefer much to my dismay) and maintain that same perceived adorable expression, but I am the face of this holiday.

So get in your fancy Twinkie car and don’t let the door hit you in the sugar-coated, marshmallowy flat behind on the way out. Take a nice long vacation: perhaps a sauna in the microwave or a nice jacuzzi in a mug of hot chocolate. I hear both are lovely this time of year. 

As I watch you drive away, I can’t help but wonder, have I really seen the last of you? And does Santa have this problem? Snowmen have been making a comeback. 

With rabbit carrotempt,
The Easter Bunny 

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