Easter Bunny and Bob’s Tale

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Dear Mr Vladlock,

May I take this opportunity to wish you a Happy Easter. Although truthfully, this is not a time of great celebration within my family. Please excuse my presumption, sir, but I feel that, given Madam’s implicit trust in your character, I can divulge our dark secret that casts a cloud at this time of year.

It concerns a distant strain of our family, originating from Norfolk, the East Bunnies. Not to be confused with the Benjamin Bunnies, a roguish bunch, but ultimately well-meaning, if slightly misunderstood. The East Bunnies were an altogether more sinister warren, involved in many nefarious activities. They had ambitions to become the dominant strain of Rabbit, by whichever means necessary. Rumour has it that they had dealings with the notorious apothecary known as the Mixer Matt Osis, and we all know the outcome of that venture!!

There is one member of this warren who has displayed tendencies so repulsive, that even his own kin could not tolerate him, and he was cast out, driven further east towards the coast. This geographical move led to the name by which he is now known. The Easter Bunny. Ah, how that name strikes dread in my batteries! Outwardly personable (the Bunnies have always been blessed with a cloying cuteness that belies their dark hearts), he at first sought refuge with some kindly hens. And it was there that his world domination plan took shape!

He became aware of the fondness humans have for eggs, and their association with one of the largest celebrations in the annual calendar. He also noted the insatiable craving humans have for chocolate, in particular the younger members of the race. And so he devised a cunning scheme to combine the two, and thus have your kind literally eating out of his hand. An undercover foray to a world-renowned chocolatier in Switzerland, purportedly as a life model for their confectionary bunny, allowed him to develop a chicken feed that would result in hens laying chocolate eggs. He joined forces with another resident of Norfolk, a human that I dare not name, for fear of reprisal. I shall only say that his is a name that spells fear in the poultry world, and he struggles to pronounce beautiful. Together they lured innocent young hens into their clutches, with promises of open fields, and handsome cocks.

The reality was far more horrific, endless hours spent being forced to eat the noxious feed, and laying thin shelled hollow eggs, to be wrapped in gaudy paper, and cleverly packaged to make the contents appear far larger than they were. To be sold at hugely inflated prices to the gullible humans. And yet that was not the worst aspect of this evil plan. The same gullible humans allowed the foul Easter Rabbit to entice their young offspring, with the promise of chocolate, to sit upon his knee!! I ask you, kind sir, would this seem appropriate under any other circumstances?! Yet still he is at large, and more worryingly, he has an army of lookalikes!! A sorry tale (or scut) I am sure you will agree.

On a more pleasant and fragrant note, I bring you news of my Mistress. She seems greatly enamoured of this new pastime to which you have introduced her. I refer of course to the writing, although she has embraced all your ideas with equal enthusiasm. It has in no way detracted from her longing for you, and I note that she has become noticeably more excitable as your forthcoming meeting draws near.

I feel I must bring one thing to your attention, however. She has recently taken up a new form of exercise. Never one for the muddy rigours of the lacrosse field, or the fast pace of the tennis courts, and with a taste for the altogether more exotic, she has turned to the practice of yoga. Always flexible, as you know well, she has now developed surprising skill in body contortion. I mention this in a precautionary manner, as I suspect she may well entice you to indulge in some of these movements with her. In fact, so boundless is her enthusiasm, that I suggest you may need to restrain her somehow!!

I must finish now, as my Mistress requires my assistance. I look forward to renewing my acquaintance with you in a short time.

Kind Regards,

Bob

 

 

About Thewitch

Nikki is a half centenarian, an eternal teenager, and mother of four geniuses. In her previous incarnation, she was a famous Parisian courtesan, and witch, thus explaining her habit of talking to the moon in french. Due to her inability to control her thought/speech processes, she writes about life, love, laughter and anything else that happens to spill out. Those of a strong constitution can read more on her About page.

7 responses »

    • Hahah!! Thank you!! Although I suspect Vladlock has read this letter with a sinking heart, and is stocking up on Deep Heat and painkillers as we speak!! The joys of half century passion!!

      Like

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