Written by Jalapenoman
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Sunday, 11 March 2007

image for Santa Claus Has North Pole, Bunny Has His Easter Island
Guardians of the home of the Easter Bunny have been doing their jobs for hundreds of years

For centuries, archaeologists have had it wrong. Such eminent scientists as Margaret Mead and Thor Heyerdahl have theorized that the giant stone statues of Easter Island are actually Gods of the people or represtantions of former tribal leaders. In fact, Heyerdahl, author of Kon Tiki and The Ra Expeditions, spent several months on the island and asserts that in his book Aku Aku.

The truth, however, has finally come to light. The island is actually the birthplace and headquarters of The Easter Bunny and the giant stone statues are the guardians of the Easter Egg and Candy Manufacturing Center. Peter Rabbit, spokesman for The Easter Bunny, took time out from getting friendly with several factory workers to grant this publication an interview. The interview, however, had to be accomplished while he attempted to hump the photographer's leg, tripod, camera bag, and chair.

"Hey," said Peter. "Santa has the North Pole. Where else did you think the Easter Bunny would be headquartered? Duh! It's like Clark Kent and Superman and the glasses!"

At that point, a young female doe rabbit stuck her head in the door and Peter was on her like a, well, rabbit in heat. He excused himself from the interview and said that he had things to take care of with Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, and hopped out the door and down the bunny trail.

At that point, another male rabbit with obvious amorous and lecherous intentions towards our Spoof photographer entered the room. When the photographer attempted to escape, a thirty-six foot, eighty ton stone statue stood up and barred her way. With a huge guardian statue on one side and a horny bunny pressing his pants against her on the other, she was obviously at that point between a rock and a hard place.

This reporter was unable to help as three bunnies of the Hugh Hefner variety tied me up with silk ropes and forbid me to go the her aid. As I did not want to breach any form of protocol on foreign soil, I was forced to accede to their demands, regardless of my personal desires or feelings about the matter.

Afterwards, when she learned her attacker was really the Easter Bunny, the photographer decided that the possiblility of sleeping with a celebrity on a regular basis wasn't half bad (and didn't take too long either). Both of us decided to expend out stays on the island and discover more about the wildlife.

Updates may follow.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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