The Easter Bunny was having an identity crisis. Who was he? What was his purpose on such a holiday as Easter? Granted, the Easter Bunny didn’t have a high-pressure job like Santa Claus, nor was he lucky enough to have the surreal duties of the Tooth Fairy—but at least those icons knew who their parents were.
The Easter Bunny was bothered by such thoughts. Had he been hatched? Manufactured? Given up for adoption and then brainwashed to forget the trauma?
Perhaps he was only wished upon by children and existed only in their little minds.
Regardless, the Easter Bunny enjoyed his job. He only had to work one day a year and could spend the rest of his spare time poaching for elephant tusks on the Serengeti Desert, because the ivory market was indeed a lucrative business.
But, it was on one of these poaching expeditions that the unthinkable occurred.
The Easter Bunny and his entourage of little yellow chickens—known to the local tribesmen as Peeps—were stalking an extremely rare African-Albino elephant. The troupe were wading through a thicket of Serengeti lilies when suddenly a loud thwack! echoed across the underbrush. The Easter Bunny yelped in pain, and grimacing, he looked down to see he had stepped into another poacher’s ferret trap—and his rear brown legs were both severed at the knee caps.
The pain he felt was immense, but yet somewhat familiar. It felt as though his legs had literally been bitten off. He lingered in suspended animation for nearly a second before he fell to the ground, his head landing next to his conveniently detached feet.
“This has happened before,” He thought to himself, “or is this just De’ja vu?”
Looking down at where his legs had been attached, he noticed a milky-white liquid oozing from his shins. He glanced over to where his feet lay, and to his surprise they were beginning to melt into a puddle of soon-to-be-mud.
He laid there dying, all the while the world around him was growing warmer… and more moist… if not sweeter even.
Knowing he was nearing his demise, he still had an odd feeling that he was not forever finished.
“Ah yes,” he belted out,
“THAT’S WHO I AM!”