Letters from Smitty (Easter)

March 12, 2011

Hello again from Sheridan, Wyoming!

My it has been a long time since last we spoke.  I felt as though I should warn you now: you may want to prepare your children for disappointment on Easter Sunday as it will be canceled this year.  You see, my roommate Smitty has yet again made a decision in his life that has ruined a time-honored tradition for young children (I’m sure you remember the Santa Claus de-bunking “exposé” that Smitty wrote for the Sheridan Gazette last Fall.)

Smitty and I were going through the motions of our typical Thursday night ritual which includes browsing Wikipedia, listening to David Bowie’s Greatest Hits and popping Flintstone Vitamins.  As we perused various articles, we came upon an entry for Easter.  Now, Smitty and I have never been church-goers by any stretch of the imagination.  The last time I remember even being near a church was when I was trying to escape a gang of underground Morlocks who were chasing me through our neighborhood’s sewer system.  I believe we passed underneath St. Francis at one point.

But that’s a long story though and I wouldn’t want to bore you.

Nevertheless, Smitty and I both became intently interested on the subject of the Easter Bunny.  I was more interested in how the Easter Bunny came into popular legend.  Smitty was more concerned with the terrifying notion that a fully sentient rabbit would be stealing his property and hiding it from him.  I’m afraid that Smitty’s typical vitamin-induced paranoia took hold and he became quite inconsolable.   He climbed into our copper-plated Isolation Sarcophagus and refused to come out for over forty-three hours.

When the sarcophagus lid finally cracked open and the oxygen vapor de-pressurized, Smitty screamed, “Eureka!”  I thought he was going to purchase a new vacuum, but he was talking about a way to solve his problem with the Easter Bunny.

As I’m sure you’ve read in the papers by now, what happened in that PetSmart was unfortunate to say the least.  The biased writers at the Sheridan Gazette called it “a devastating massacre” and “one of the most sickening incidents of animal cruelty in modern history.”  I personally think they are just writing those incendiary remarks to sell more ad space.  In my opinion, it was purely a misunderstanding.

Unfortunately, the mayor of Sheridan has since called off Easter to honor all of the dead rabbits (although I think it is just a shrewd political maneuver so that he can solidify the Woodland Animal vote in this November’s election).  I’m not sure what divine authority instilled this power in him.  Maybe it was the Pope.  Maybe it was the Bishop.  Maybe it was the Crystal Demon who lives at the bottom of the Tongue River Reservoir.  Who knows?

Speaking of the Crystal Demon, did he ever cure your foot thing?

Anyway, I wanted to write you and apologize firsthand and let you know that I will try to control Smitty as Halloween draws near.

Yours truly,

Alan Gibbons.

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