Easter is just around the corner and with that in mind today it is my pleasure to introduce the one and only Easter Bunny.

MI:  Good afternoon Mr. Bunny.  Is that what you prefer to be called?  What should I call you?

EB:  Just call me whatever the hell you want.  Hey, you got a cigarette?

MI:  No I don’t  smoke.

EB:  Figures.  One of those.

MI: Pardon?

EB:  Never mind.  Ask me the questions you want.

MI:  So how long have you been the Easter Bunny?

EB:  About six years now.

MI:  So tell me what you do.

EB:  I travel the world on Easter giving eggs, candy and chocolate to kids.

MI:  Do you enjoy what you do?

EB:  Next question.

MI:  Okay.  That’s only one day a year.  What do you do the rest of the year?

EB:  I temp.  You know, office manager.  Desktop support.  Stuff like that.  One year I even took a job as a stripper.

MI: Really?  A stripper?

EB:  Yeah, someone said it was a good way to make some cash.  And the women really loved touching my fur.  But I don’t do that any more.

MI: What happened?

EB:  Well the women touching me got me excited.  And when I’m excited I mark my territory  They didn’t like me pissing all over them so they complained to the manager and I got fired.

MI:  Tough break.

EB:  Yeah. Hey, do you want these eggs?

MI:  No.  Eggs have cholesterol and I’m watching my diet.

EB:  [Raising voice.]  This is how I make my f*cking living, pal.  Don’t disrespect me.  Take the f*cking eggs.

MI: Hey, calm down.  I don’t like eggs.

EB:  F*ck you.  I swear to god I’ll take these eggs and smash them against your f*cking forehead.  Now take the f*cking eggs!

MI:  Jesus.  Psycho.

EB:  Sorry.  Sorry  It’s just that I get graded by my bosses on my house to dispensation of eggs and chocolate ratio.  If I visit a house and don’t give them anything my wages get deducted.

MI:  Wow.  Tough bosses. You must be under a lot of pressure.

EB:  Tell me about it.  I mean sometimes I deliver candy and the f*cking brat isn’t even grateful.  You try delivering all over the world in one day just to have some snot-nosed ten year old tell you he wanted a bicycle instead.  I’m not goddamn Santa you f*cking brat!

MI:  I never realized – 

EB:  And sometimes my bosses give me wrong addresses.  I went to this Muslim guy’s house one year and he tried to cut my f*cking head off. 

MI: Jesus!  Well that’s about all the questions I have for you.

EB:  Hey, do you want some chocolate?

MI:  No thanks.  I’m lactose intolerant.

EB:  What did I just f*cking tell you asshole?  If I don’t give you anything I get docked.  

MI:  But I don’t want – 

EB:  [Lunging towards Manhattan Infidel] Just take the f*cking chocolate.  Take it!  I swear to god I’ll shove this chocolate bunny down your goddamn throat!

MI:  Is it hollow?

EB:  Yes.

MI:  Then I don’t want it.

EB:  Jesus Christ.  Fine!

[Throws all his candy on the floor and starts stomping on it.]

EB:  No f*cking chocolate for anyone this year.  It’s your fault.  So kids when you wake up Easter morning and there’s no candy blame this asshole!  I’ve had it.  F*ck this job.  I’m outta here.

MI:  Wow.  Readers I apologize for the Easter Bunny – 

EB:  Don’t f*cking apologize for me you dickweed.

MI:  Okay.  Bye.

EB:  Yeah, f*ck you asshole.  I’ll be at the bar.

And so ended my interview with the Easter Bunny.  I think we have all learned something today readers:  Service industry jobs are not as easy as they look.  Unless it’s delivering chocolate once a year.  I mean even an idiot could do that.

EB:  F*ck you!  I heard that!

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