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  • Paul Davidson

Today’s Imaginary Conversation with the Easter Bunny

In the world of Journalism some would call this interview a “major get.”

The interview in question took place at my own place, as I sat watching my latest DVD purchase, The Rundown. The Easter Bunny himself showed up, sat beside me, and promptly got to eating out of my bowl of Doritos.

Easter Bunny: You like The Rock?

Me: Well, yeah. Don’t you?

Easter Bunny: Eh, not really. He just doesn’t have the full set of qualities I look for in an action star.

Me: What, like Arnold?

Easter Bunny: Yeah. Like Arnold. I don’t know, maybe I’m being a little bit harsh on Duane, but I think he’s got more in him waiting to come out… You dig?

Me: Yeah, I dig.

Just about then, the Easter Bunny finished all the Doritos.

Easter Bunny: Got any more chips?

Me: You finished my chips.

Easter Bunny: Your chips? You mean, the chips for the company…?

Me: My chips, company chips, guest chips. Big difference.

A long beat. Then–

Easter Bunny: Oooooooo….K.

With that, the Easter Bunny brought the bowl to his big fat face and dumped the remaining crumbs down his gullet. And still, the interview hadn’t started.

Me: So, how’s Easter going?

Easter Bunny: For who? Me? Or the retailers?

Me: Umm… You?

Easter Bunny: Look at my ass. And my gut. What do you think? I end up eating my weight in chocolate candy about one-thousand times over. Heartburn like crazy. I need some of that acid reflux medicine.

Me: Uh, ok. How about sharing some secrets about Easter with my audience? Got any Easter eggs?

Easter Bunny: Easter eggs.

Me: Yeah, you know. Like hidden Easter eggs on DVDs. Secrets? Behind-the-scenes information?

Easter Bunny: I don’t own a DVD player.

Me: You don’t?

Easter Bunny: When your entire living room is overrun with millions of pounds of flourescent-yellow Marshmallow Peeps, you find that there’s really no room left for things like an entertainment center, flat-screen plasma HDTV and the top of the line Sony DVD player.

Me: Somebody’s a little bit materialistic.

Just about then, somebunny flashed somebody the finger.

Me: Thanks.

Easter Bunny: Yeah, no problem.

A long beat. Then, the Easter Bunny licked his fingers, using his wet digits to scrape the last bit of Dorito crumbs from out of the bowl.

Easter Bunny: We done here?

Before I could answer, Mr. Fluffy-Head got up, grabbed a vase filled with flowers, gulped down the dirty water inside of it, burped and walked out the door.

It was, as expected, the most ultimate Journalistic “get” ever.

Uh, Happy Easter.

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