Saturday, April 19, 2014

An Easter Warning

Look, I know it's Easter.

I know all you kiddies out there in internetland are looking forward to your chocolates and your candies and your peeps.  But I just wanted to warn you about something you need to be on the lookout for.

Back when I was a kid, my grandmother used to regale me with tales about The Neeb.  What's the Neeb, you ask?  Well, it's a bit of an acronym.  See, the story goes that, back in the days when the Easter Bunny was as popular as Santa Claus, guys used to dress up in Bunny suits at the mall, and kids used to sit on their laps to get their picture taken.  Now, if you've ever been to the mall around Christmastime, you know it's not all fun and games.  There's kids crying, and little brats yanking on Santa's beard, and well, you know.  Shit gets out of hand.

So there was this one guy.  Bit of a chubster.  Had his grungy old rabbit costume on, and was pretty much worse off than Bad Santa, you remember that movie?  Well, this old guy was just tired of the shit.  Burnt out on the job, stressed out, drunk as a skunk from the time he sat down in the chair til the time he staggered home.  Having to deal with the kids didn't help much.  He was fat, he was sweaty, he smelled bad, and worst of all, he stole the kid's candy with his paw-gloved hands while they sat on his lap to get their picture taken.  See, Neeb is short for Big Fat Sweaty Non-Eastery Easter Bunny.  BFSNEEB.  Or, just Neeb, as he came to be called by the kids.

"Going back to sit on the Neeb's lap this year, Timmy?"  "Yea, Chazz.  Parents make me go every year."

Children dreaded their meeting with the Neeb.  Sure, the fat and fluffy bunny costume made his lap nice and soft to sit on.  But the Neeb, well...  he talked to himself.  Some of the kids say he just mumbled about having to have kids sitting on his lap all day, but others say he whispered things.  Evil things.  Things that scared the little kids.  Which, when you think about it, really isn't a bad thing.  As long as kids are scared, they behave.  But, he also stole their candy when they weren't looking.  You'd think it would be hard for a drunk man with giant fluffy paw-gloves over his hands to sneak candy into a mouth covered by a giant old bunny head costume.  But he managed it.  He was sneaky, like a NINJA.

"Chazz, I'm never going to see the Neeb again!  He stole my chocolate!"  "Yea he 'Neebed' my whole basket last year, Timmy."  "The bastard!"

The Old Neeb eventually got beaten up by a mob of angry kids and eventually fired.  I'm pretty sure it was in the news.  In his drunken rage, he vowed vengeance on all those that he thought had wronged him, from the managers at the local mall, to the parents who brought their kids to stink up his bunny costume year after year.  Even little Cindy Jo McCoy, who was so scared by the Neeb that she lost control of her bodily functions and peed on his lucky rabbit's foot.  He happened to be wearing it at the time.  Neeb vowed vengeance on them all.

By the time I was a kid, the Old Neeb was just a legend.  My grandmother used to say that he lurked around kids' Easter baskets, haunting the fields of the bunnies in springtime.  Candy and chocolates hidden for the children would mysteriously disappear, year after year.  Sightings were rare, but the kids claimed to still see him, now and then.  The bright once-pink costume was now a dank mass of muddy grey and brown.  The once-long and upright ears were now bent, and one hung limply to the side.  The alert children who managed to spot him making off with their baskets said he still whispered, but the incomprehensible ravings of a madman were the only things that came out of his buck-toothed head mask.

Sure, some of you may scoff at the idea of a lunatic Easter Bunny, but there's precedent.  Look at that movie where the airplane part falls on that guy's house.  He sees a giant 6 foot rabbit with wonky eyes all through that movie, doesn't he?  And there's Monty Python!  The Holy Grail.  You know, the Rabbit!  With the HUGE POINTY FANGS!  I bet Old Neeb is his great great, great great great, great great great great great great grandson, on his cousin's sister-in-law's side.  I went to geneaology.com and looked it up myself.  There's a blood connection.  The DNA came straight from Attila the Ear, like many rabbits today.  They say 5% of all rabbits are descended from him.

I saw him myself, once.  It was on Easter, too, now that I think of it.  I happened to be in the bathroom, looking for my Easter basket, and I caught sight of his horrid, twisted form.  Scraggly grey fur hung from him in ragged strips.  The rabbit costume had long since become a wicked mass of stinking alcohol fumes and a lifetime of failed attempts at masturbation.  I guess it's just difficult to pleasure yourself while wearing a rabbit costume.  Or to get dates, for that matter.  Unless you're a Furry.  Old Neeb was hunched over, sniffing around.  He seemed to be searching for something.  Probably my Easter basket, which luckily wasn't hidden in the bathroom that year.  I turned my head, to call out "MOMMY MOMMY HELP IT'S NEEB!  IT'S NEEEEEB!"  But he was gone, and she thought I was nuts.  I'll never forget the sight of him.  I still have nightmares, where I wet myself much like Cindy Jo.

Um.  But I've uh...  since grown out of those.  Not since I was in my early 40's.

My grandmother has long since passed away, but I think the Old Neeb is still prowling about on the muddy green fields of spring.  I bet he's still looking for hidden baskets, his giant paws stained with the chocolate of his many victims.  So watch where your parents hide your candy, kids.  Keep your eyes open for the Neeb.  You never know when he'll strike.  Whether you know him as the Neebinator, the Chunky Neebster, or Old Neeb, he sits at the crossroads of springtime, wherever that may be.  Just laying in wait for unwary kids with baskets full of candy.  I'm an adult, and I still fear the Neeb.  I think there was a song, too, went something like...

"Here comes the Old Neebinator, hopping down the bunny trail, hippity hoppity back on Easter Day..."

I get chills down my spine whenever I hear that song.  To this day.  The thought of him coming back, every Easter, from wherever he goes...  I guess that fluffy costume keeps him warm during the winter or something, but dammit, when springtime comes, he must HUNGER for that chocolate.  I sure as shit wouldn't want him after my basket.  He must ride the sugar rush all summer long, then lapse into a diabetic coma all through winter, then rise up once more in the spring, every spring.  Searching for hidden baskets, hidden candy.  Christpopsicles.  I think I just wet myself.

Just a warning, kids.  Beware the Neeb.  Fear him.  Fear the Neeb.  FEAR THE NEEB.

Just a whispered warning.

Just a whisper.

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