“We tried using facemasks. It was like hopping around in a big sack!” says union president.
Jack Bunny, the head of the American Easter Bunny Union, has officially cancelled all Easter egg deliveries this year.
“We are sorry to announce this,” said Mr. Bunny. “We really tried everything to avoid this. We tried wearing standard-sized facemasks but they proved much too big. It was like we were hopping around in a big sack, careening around in the dark. We had some serious ‘owies.’ A lot of our membership won’t be hopping for a while.
“I wrote the membership this morning and the letter was read to all our bunnies via our official radio channel, WEGG. Our members were disappointed, of course, but we’ll soldier on.”
At that point, American Easter Bunny Union President Emeritus Mr. Harvey D’Pooka strode into the gathering. “This is a sad, sad day in Easter Bunny history,” he said, beginning to pace around the room.
“The U.S. government has given us little or no help. They promised us protective gloves would arrive in July. July? Happy Easter! And gloves…?”
He held up his right paw. “Do you see a thumb, there? Do you see fingers? It’s a paw, right? Am I right? It’s a friggin’ paw! You put a human glove over it and it’s going to fit me like a body bag. Is that what they’re after? Death to all Easter Bunnies???”
“Harvey!” Mr. Bunny shouted at Mr. D’Pooka. “Zip it with the conspiracy theories.”
Mr. D’Pooka grumbled into silence. “It’s part of the whole Deep Peeps group. They’ve been trying to wipe us out for years!”
Even rockets couldn’t save the day
Continued Mr. Bunny. “We tried everything to avoid this. At a certain point, Sir Cyrus Lepus concocted a rocket pack, the idea behind it being that we could all fly high in the sky and drop our signature eggs down to houses in little parachutes. Sir Cyrus’ experiment didn’t quite go well. He had the power but not the lift.”
“Ever hear a rabbit scream?” groused Mr. D’Pooka. “The old fool’s ass was on fire and he’s bouncing around the forest floor like a deranged firework. Smelled delicious, though.”
Mr. Bunny continued, “We’re happy to say his cotton-tail will be fully back by 2027.”
Mr. Bunny went on. “With the instability in the country, right now, we can’t put our union members at risk. We don’t know if we’re susceptible to the virus or not but it’s the human/bunny interaction we fear. People who are self-confined tend to act a little addled after a time. They could feel threatened and shoot at us. Who knows what can happen to our bunny members in the Deep South? I’m thinking rabbit stew.”
“People are crazy as it is!” declared Mr. D’Pooka. “Do you know how many bunnies are staggering around with peg-legs? All because some airhead human decided that our feet bring people good luck?”
Mr. Bunny attempted to “shush” Mr. D’Pooka but Mr. D’Pooka would not be shushed. “They put our feet on key chains! I mean, seriously. Key chains! How would the world react if I had a human foot on a key chain?”
“You don’t have a key chain.”
“I wouldn’t want a human foot hanging from it if I did! With my bad back? I tell you, they’re trying to kill us! Herniate us all!”
Mr. D’Pooka was on a roll. “I bet you didn’t know that rabbits were worshipped back in the day. Give me those pagan times, any day. Now? People shoot at us. Give us guns and it’ll be a fair fight! I say ‘Shoot back and remove their feet!’”
Maybe it will turn out for the best
“Still,” Mr. Bunny stated, “families who are isolated together can still have a fine Easter. Dye your own eggs like people did fifty or a hundred years ago. There are actually kits that can be purchased. Depending on how complicated you want your eggs to be, it can be a quick process or a really artistic one that can last for hours.”
He sighed: “Plus, it would be a way for families to spend some quality time together. Maybe this will all turn out for the best, getting people to focus on the true meaning of Easter.”
Mr. D’Pooka snorted: “Which is: see how many jellybeans you can stuff down your mouth before you puke your guts out!”
Mr. Bunny sighed and signaled to us that the interview was over. Mr. D’Pooka showed us the way out of the rabbit hole. He glanced around to make sure he wasn’t being eavesdropped upon. “And, kid?” he whispered. “Next time you come here, make sure your bring guns, a hacksaw and a lot of key chains. I’m feeling lucky.”