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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