The Easter onslought by the Fluffy Menace

Warning: This blog may contain material offensive to vegans, detrimental to the Fudd cause, and inappropriate for minors.

Is it just me, or has Easter taken on a whole new level of cruelty? I'm referring, of course, to the ever-expanding array of chocolate Easter bunnies. At least one company now markets its melt-in-your-mouth creations in little boxes with names like "Flopsy" and "Fluffy" on them. Does it seem to you too like we've taken the sadistic pleasure of chomping down on those chocolaty ears of goodness a little too lightly when we name the creatures before we bite off their heads? Then there are the new breed of chocolate bunnies with the oversized ears so that one can relish those long, succulent lobes even longer! And don't get me started on the virtues of hollow, solid, crunch, and caramel...

The most likely answer for this bizarre cultural shift comes from the alt-devilbunnies newsgroup, which posits that a secret war spanning several generations has existed between the Fudds (who protect humanity secretly without telling the public of the Fluffy Menace in order to avoid widespread panic) and a race of alien rabbits who kill with cuteness and eat the toes of humans for snacks or grind up the occasional wandering child or errant gardener up and preserve them as a popular potted meat product with the same name as spam.

Now that I think of it, who is the Easter Bunny anyway? Is he actually a dark creature from the planet Kyoot come like some satanic furry clown to fatten up the plump lower digits of our toddlers to serve en crudite?

It may be that our love of those tasty ears may be a part of psychological warfare, an implanted suggestion of the need to undo the Bunny Terrors. In fact, if the reports on devilbunnies.com are true, perhaps the proliferation of named chocolate bunnies is a campaign by a secret government agency to raise up a generation of sleeper Fudds. This new generation, desentized by gnawing on bunnies of exceptional size and increasing levels of cuteness, might have no qualms blasting even the fluffiest Thumper out of the meadow.

Oh no! Is that that buzzing sensation high blood sugar or have I been hit with a tranquilizer dart? Perhaps I should not have posted this, especially with the Holiday looming. With the shadow Fudds and the Easter Bunny after me, I might need protective custody. If I have to go into hiding, it may be a bit spartan in hiding out in the Midwest. Mind if I take that marshmallow egg with me? and a bag of them there Jelly Bellies?