For years I've been forced to share my holidays with other fictional characters out there. Most notoriously, that fat fuck Santa Claus has stolen countless wishes for Christmas toys that should have been submitted to me in prayer form. I can't get the satisfaction of saying "No Timmy, I can't be bothered by your ridiculous request for a new fire engine when I'm busy ruling over Heaven and Earth" if the little ankle-biting bastard doesn't even bother asking me.
But I'm not here to complain about Claus, he'll get his another day. The reason I'm up late pecking away at my keyboard is because I want to announce far and wide that another nemesis of mine, one Easter Bunny, is a fucking pussy.
Now, everyone already knows the Easter Bunny is a tad on the fruity side. Mincing around with a basket filled with brightly colored eggs isn't exactly gonna win you any masculinity points, that's for sure. But somehow those silly little Easter baskets always steal some of the thunder from the celebration of my resurrection. I mean, I come back to life after being dead for three days, triumphing over the grave after bearing the sins of the world, and some little hippity-hopping homo gets equal credit for the holiday fun just for rotting little children's teeth with jelly beans and chocolates. I think he and the Tooth Fairy are in cohoots; quite a racket they got going.
Anyway, I finally decided it was time to man-up and challenge that nose-wiggling glory-stealer to a kickboxing match. A few of my connections in the mob tried to get me to take a dive in the 4th, and I considered it to help pay off some of my other gambling losses. But when it came down to it, I just had to pound the little eunuch rabbit into the ground. He toppled like a house of cards in the 3rd, and I left without so much as a scratch on me.
Next year there will be no Easter baskets little Timmy, and no Virginia, there is no Santa Claus!
But I'm not here to complain about Claus, he'll get his another day. The reason I'm up late pecking away at my keyboard is because I want to announce far and wide that another nemesis of mine, one Easter Bunny, is a fucking pussy.
Now, everyone already knows the Easter Bunny is a tad on the fruity side. Mincing around with a basket filled with brightly colored eggs isn't exactly gonna win you any masculinity points, that's for sure. But somehow those silly little Easter baskets always steal some of the thunder from the celebration of my resurrection. I mean, I come back to life after being dead for three days, triumphing over the grave after bearing the sins of the world, and some little hippity-hopping homo gets equal credit for the holiday fun just for rotting little children's teeth with jelly beans and chocolates. I think he and the Tooth Fairy are in cohoots; quite a racket they got going.Anyway, I finally decided it was time to man-up and challenge that nose-wiggling glory-stealer to a kickboxing match. A few of my connections in the mob tried to get me to take a dive in the 4th, and I considered it to help pay off some of my other gambling losses. But when it came down to it, I just had to pound the little eunuch rabbit into the ground. He toppled like a house of cards in the 3rd, and I left without so much as a scratch on me.
Next year there will be no Easter baskets little Timmy, and no Virginia, there is no Santa Claus!
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1 comments:
Good thing you pounded that punk. The FBI had been on his trail for a while. Apparently that worthless bunny was wanted in Ukraine for trafficking fake fabergé eggs full of heroin through Europe and into the States. Looks like the Russian mob isn't going to let him off light for going down like that...
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