"That rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide!"
When you wake up this morning and look under your bed to find a basket full of chocolate and little marshmallow sugar peeps before running off to steal plastic eggs from small children, I want you to pause for a moment and reflect on the true meaning of Easter. You know what I'm talking about. The tale that's been passed down for years upon years, the epic legend that reminds you to take some time before going to sleep to get on your knees and pray. That's right. I'm talking about the Killer Rabbit. Sure, over the years, we've come to know him as "the Easter bunny", who delivers packages of sweets to every child all across the world. But there are still many among us who remember the dark days when this maniacal ball of fur and war-lust slaughtered the few badasses who dared to disturb this crazed creature. We commemorate this day of carnage with chocolate and hymns of some dude who died for our sins or something, but I for one will not forget the little bloodthirsty furball of fury who a few decent extras lost their lives to.
In other words, happy Easter, all!