Easter Bunny: Is it four? Which day is my thing this year? I can never keep track. Anyway, Kris, it's not so great I have to work on Spring Break, you know. (Cracks open a can of Natty Light and mutters something about "sun-soaked titties") How are things with the Missus?
SC: Meh, whatevs. Better though. She's finally over that goddamn song.
EB: "I Saw Mommy Kissing
SC: Nah, I handled that said it was the kid's dad. I mean the other one.
EB: "Santa Baby"?
SC: Ugh. Remember that skank I told you about? The high maintenence one? Hit it, quit it, then she went all "Fatal Attraction" on me and WROTE A HIT FUCKING SONG ABOUT IT. Unforgivable. Gold-digging bitch almost landed me in divorce court. It's pretty much blown over, though. The wife's a little like Carmela Soprano she knows how good she has it up here, you know? Best part is, lately she's gotten all batshit in bed just to keep me interested.
EB: How do you mean?
SC: Let's just say you could call her "Mrs. Claws" regardless of whether we were married.
EB: Sporting some battle scars, are we?
SC: Man, like you wouldn't believe. Mauled-by-the-Abominable-Snowman bad. I can't even lean back in the sleigh anymore. What about you? Don't even try and tell me you're sleeping alone. I always reek of toddler piss, Cupid looks like Verne Troyer with wings and Pilgrim won't give a girl anything besides basic missionary. You were always the ladykiller of the crew.
EB: (Pauses, grinning) Ask me who.
SC: Oh, this has to be good.
EB: Ask me.
SC: Chick from "Space Jam"?
EB: Nah, think human. Here's a hint: Jessica. Rabbit.
SC: I call bullshit.
EB: No lie, my friend. (Pulls out phone, flips through pictures ) See that shit?
SC: Ho, ho damn, I stand corrected. But I thought she was with
EB: Not so much. In fact, you'll be able to call her Jessica Bunny soon. She's obsessed.
SC: Really? Can't blame you for locking that shit up. I'd marry her in a heartbeat, if it wasn't for that off-putting beastiality fetish she has. Alas, I'm stuck with Pasty Von Flabbyflesh.
EB: Occupational hazard, I guess.
SC: So right, my friend, so right. At least she knows how to tickle the chestnuts when she's riding that candy cane.
EB: Amen to that.
SC: Please don't get religious on me. Sooo tired of that Guy.