The Easterbunny And Angie's Boy (Tit-For-Tat-Poem)

The Easterbunny came and laid a dozen eggs, there, in the shade. As Angie's son rolled out of bed and to the Bunny he then said: 'I am eleven, almost twelve and in my schoolwork I must delve. I have, some years ago outgrown those myths that kids are very prone to fall for fairy tales and such for windmills of the folks called Dutch and Santa from the snowy North and Easter Bunnies, and so forth. So, take your multicoloured eggs and move your tail and scrawny legs! ' But Bunny did not listen then, instead he asked the mother hen if it was normal that he laid as if he were a feathered maid on Easter, coloured eggs at Dawn near people's houses on the lawn. The hen, who was a wise old owl though still a witty, helpful fowl, considered this for just a minute then said, 'it's Easter, so be in it! ' The boy, who was almost a man replied 'I'm old enough and can go get my rifle, shoot your hide and make a widow of your bride.' And this he did, with so much glee that in the future there would be no more of ancient time traditions and rabbits went on different missions. And eggs, by government decree were now declared to always be just poisonous cholesterol and Santa stayed at the North Pole, and two remaining Easterbunnies were thrown head first into the dunnies. Thus, you can see how it takes little a word or two, a bit of spittle to wipe traditions off the slate So, no more Easterbunny, mate.