256 – Stump School


(WARNING! My sister and my wife both thought it might be a good idea to take the opportunity here to mention that this poem is highly irreverent, probably offensive, and at the very least extremely socially irresponsible. I happen to think it’s also kinda funny, but that was probably what alarmed them so much to begin with. In any case, I hope you enjoy it!

‘Twas the Tuesday after Easter and as was my habit,

I sat chewing the remains of a great chocolate rabbit.
And pondered, I did, eating the rodent confection,
how we got candy bunnies from Christ’s resurrection.

“There must be an answer!” I thought with much haste,
shoveling in chocolate, letting none waste.
I tossed aside King James, going straight to his rival,
and triumphantly opened my old Easter Bible!

Written by Screwtape and his big brother Baal,
it told the true story of Easter in demoniac scrawl.
Judas, it read, was swindled out of his silver payoff,
and given, instead, cocoa mints and a disciple layoff.

As he died on the cross, nailed arms and nailed legs,
Jesus did poop dozens of festive blue eggs!
The children laughed and hid eggs in the wood —
after they’d wiped off most of the blood.

Three days later Christ the King rose.
(He smelled pretty bad as everyone knows.)
With a groan Zombie-Christ went searching for quarry,
whose brains He would eat in all of His glory.

He ate John and ate Andrew, ate James and ate Simon,
ate Philip, Nathaniel, Matthew and… the other Simon.
He ate Thomas and the other Judas and also other James,
he ate everyone who couldn’t think of original names.

Judas Iscariot was saved by his chocolate mint,
which left Zombie-Christ fresh smelling, though feeling quite spent.
“Zombies are allergic to chocolate!” Iscariot cried!
“Collect all your bunnies, ‘fore all of us have died!”

So the townsfolk gathered rabbits, hundreds or more,
drowned them in chocolate, nailed them to their doors.
They hid inside homes as Zombie-Christ wailed.
Jesus was warded, their plan had not failed!

Every year thereafter, came the Great Easter Kegger,
it wasn’t a party till the girls were all preggers.
Eggs colored, bunnies coated, and beer glasses all filled,
‘till the next coming of Zombie-Christ, when we all will be killed!

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