Every year I make an Easter basket full of whiskey, candy, ammo, and prophylactics. For the centerpiece I melt a little chocolate over a chocolate rabbits innocent wide eyes, giving it an evil countenance. Then I write a little story, wrap it all up, and leave the whole thing on the neighbors porch for their kids. I urge you all to join me in this tradition, teaching our children to celebrate the rebirth of the mother earth, in all her treacherous glory.
Here’ the story:
Once upon a time there were four little rabbits, and their names were
Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail,
and EVIL Peter.
They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big tree. “Now my dears,” said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, “you may go into the fields, but don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mr. McGregor.”
“Now run along, and don’t get into mischief. I am going out.”
Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went to the fields to gather blackberries: But Peter, who was EVIL, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor’s garden.
Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting young cabbages when he spied Peter, he ran towards him waving a rake and calling out, ‘Stop thief!’ Peter calmly leaned up against the garden shed and lit a cigarette. Mr. McGregor was less than 10 feet away when Peter leveled his shotgun. McGregor stopped dead in his tracks dropping the rake.
“How did my father taste?” said Peter.
“Wha…” said Mr. McGregor
but before he got to the ‘t’ Peter blasted him just above his left knee. McGregor’s leg exploded like a water balloon full of meat and bone. He collapsed screaming. Peter smiled and repeated calmly.
“How did my father taste?”
McGregor reached for the rake but Peter hopped closer and fired. McGregor’s hand disappeared like a sick magic trick. Peter was on top of dear old Mr. McGregor now and he jammed the shotgun barrel into his gasping mouth.
“Now you shall have your just dessert!” roared Peter, blasting the top of Mr. McGregor’s head open like a piñata. The old man’s brains and blood splattered all over the green garden giving it a rather festive look. This pleased Peter immensely.
That evening EVIL Peter Rabbit moved Mopsy, Flopsy, Cottontail and his dear old mother from the old sandbank into the McGregor’s modest Dutch Colonial home.
Two weeks later Peter personally gunned down the head of the Gambiano family and gained control of the docks. From there putting the squeeze on the smaller local rackets and merchants was easy. Peter pretty much had the run of the whole town by the end of the month.
It’s said that EVIL Peter controlled the entire eastern seaboard when he died at the ripe old age of thirteen, which is quite old for rabbit. Legend has it that he personally killed more than one hundred men and he even got to shit in the Pope’s hat!
