The Purple-Peep-Bunny Halloween Massacre

Autumn is a special time of year.

My garden path bursts brightly, still full with burgeoning blooms, and O! the merry marigolds, majestic, and shrooms ! and pink petunias pandering to the suns slippery rays, the brightly smiling faces of purple pansies, upturned and unrepentant! Lavender seducing senses, as I stroll along, the garden path winds, chocolate martinis staining my mind,

studying what new wonders I might find punts my jolly, in these fastly waning days of sunlight ‘n folly…

 

It was an angry, blustery, chilly day…

hostile rains had pounded the petals off my delicate garden jewels all night long, and now, on this frigid cold morning, I frightlessly picked my way through the wretched and overgrown browning branches of the butternut squash patch, in earnest pursuit of my rightful take of the harvest. Languid pools of rainwater spilled from the cupped leaves of the eggplant trees, irritating my skin, until I was sure there’d be a rash by nightfall. And me, without my rash medicine….

Things were turning scary out there…and fast!

AS I GINGERLY BENT DOWN ON ONE KNEE to rest a moment, admiring the beauty of things, my eyes did settle upon a most peculiar sight… one of those butternut squashes…was just not…quite…right!

                                                                                                                                  

Leaning in now, closer to see… A tiny door, shaped like a bun - nee!

Who might live in this tiny place? What, indeed, be this miniscule race? Before I could guess, my eyes did rest, on one little purple thing, waving in jest…

from high atop its Leek perch, did spy… 4 little Easter Peeps, happening by…

Keepers of Marigolds! Magnates of Mirth! What the ef were these tiny bass turds doing on my planet Earth?!

 

As the Purple Peep Parade did wander on by…

Me thinking, “seriously! What da fux in my eye!”… It soon became evident, t’is n’thing to do. So off to the tomato patch, to harvest for stew… All seemed a’normals, all seemed aright. But soon in my site flashed a terrible fright! A floating head, eerily still…T’was the head of an Einstein, (built with magical skill!)

He swang with a menacing mythical swing. As the night was a’darkening, I saw one more thing… O’er his (no shoulder) there comes into view, one tiny church, sans the steeple and pew…

How could this be? I asked. What’s going on? But thought was confounded by a lone church bells “GONG!”

Why, just Moments later, b’twixt my Tomaters, along comes a fleet of Purple Easter Peeps… Surprised as I am, yet still frozen, I stare , Then do witness a scene… one I swore not to share… One little Bunny, happy as Spring, pushes up bushels of marigolds ‘n rings.

Upon nearing the front door, the bunny did knock (no easy task, since ’twas armless and pocked)… There came not an answer, No, nary a stir… But the Keeper of Marigolds was not deterred. Following soon, the rest of his brood, A Purple Peep Brigade, in a most festive mood.

 Me supposed, ’twas a Holy Day,  and this floral offering … perhaps ’twas a sacrifice? For some Unholy Thing?

A CRASH! Now a GROAN! Oh! My! What this BE?…Then Swooped down from above

MISTER UN -HOLE -EE! 

With hardly a pause, he dropped open his jaw…then one poor li’l Peep became…

Peep Slaw.

He chewed and he masticated, this disembodied head. He ate little Purple Dood, until he was dead.

The other Brigadees, the Purple Peeps Four? They freaked and they scatterded, while Peep Blood didst pour.

O! He blew and he spurted, this Terrible Head! And out popped poor Peeper…but Einstein still fed…

 

Yes, he chewed, and he spit, he dribbled and spewed. And Stop, he did not, ’till was not one more Dood. Ya’d think he’d have swallowed, but ’tis plain to see… you hardly can gulp with a throat that don’t Be. Plus, stomach, he hadn’t one. So, Barfaroni it ’twas. Seems the Ogres sole satiation derived from the buzz…. gained only by torment, murder and fear. O! What a wretched One… Vomits dead Peeps n’ Beer!

AND SO GOES THE LEGEND, the folklore and tale, o’ the Giant-Brained Einstein, so hairy and pale…
If Ye childrens be caught in his unholy snare, whilst tippy-toeing thru ye olde Gardens, so faire…
Keep Ye in mind, Now Thee, Keep Ye Bewares….
O’ the Purple Peep Bunny Halloween Massacare. 
 

Smokin' a P-Bone

 
↓ 
 

Poor lil' P-Dood - never had a chance.

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Categories: 4 LAFFS, Ghostly Tales, View Finder | Tags: , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

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27 thoughts on “The Purple-Peep-Bunny Halloween Massacre

  1. So perish all purple peeps. They would only have frolicked in your flowers and eaten your edibles.

  2. Hokey Smokes!! I can only conclude that whatever you’re growing in your garden, you’re smokin’ it, too. Thanks for the highly imaginative, clever verse. I doubt if I’ll ever think of Einstien or Peeps the same way again. No wonder general relativity is so discombobulating.

  3. wordsfallfrommyeyes

    Fantastic post! And I learned a new word – ‘discombobulating’ :)

  4. That is one creepy-ass garden! I hate peeps though… disgusting little critters. Go Einstein!

    • OOF! Figures a guy would cheer on the perpetrator ;) Well, good news is, my garden is Peep-Free these days.

  5. This took some time! Congrats on an gruesomely-illustrated tale of tattered tails!

    • Thanks, Madante… baking the peeps from scratch was the hardest part. And finding the purple sugar to roll them in.

  6. Ah, Spectra, you’re awesome,
    Ah, Spectra, you’re cool!
    As the master of Halloween gore
    you do rule.

    I, however, prefer to think,
    that this rhyme came about,
    because of too much drink.
    Or maybe a clue can be found,
    in your verse.

    Amid all the spit and the blooms
    on line 3 you make mention
    of petunias and shrooms.

    Whatever the reason,
    whatever the season,
    To this old witch
    Your verse is so pleasin.

    • Ode to Ye Mad Gardener

      Touche’, ol’ friend! And nicely done!
      Me applauds yore prose, yore gilded tongue!
      An’ drink, the mind, it doth deprave
      ( O! Shakespeare rolleth deep in his grave)

      I wit this massacre, be true.
      But of the killins’, do not approve!
      To Kill A Peep, t’is surely bane
      Indeed, doth mark o’ thee insane.

      Petunias n’ Shrooms, a toxic potion!
      Mix’t with Newt, n’ dark devotion -
      this garden stew – t’is Devils Brew!
      (goes really well with BBQ)

  7. Your ‘magination. I like it :)

  8. I was so pleased when the disembodied Einstein head showed up in a UPS box the other day, a gift from “A Secret Admirer”. Now, not so much.

    This was great! Weird. Disturbing. Evidence of what may be an organic brain disorder that should be checked out immediately. But great!

    • Oh, the organic Brain Disorder has been checked out, and re-checked. They’ve given up on me. It’s a lost cause.

      So far as that disembodied Einstein head showing up, via UPS… just keep him away from your old Easter candy, and don’t let him anywhere near the Halloween junk. He thrives on that stuff!

  9. This was inspired! Truly demented and amazing. Cracking up at those poor purple peep bastards covered in blood!

  10. Hey Spectra,

    Yet another awesome post! it had all the elements of a great story. I laughed, I cried (mostly because you scare me) but very clever indeed!

  11. This was almost as thrilling as The Walking Dead!
    Nice terrifying job!

  12. I’ve never been a fan of Peeps. They look cute, but taste like crap. Death to all Peeps.

    • I thank you for your support. Now I don’t feel so bad for having killed them all off…or did I? (only after studying the last photo did I realize, one lone Peep survived, intact. Will there be a sequel? Revenge of the Purple Peeps? Hm.)

  13. Peeps: I love to hate them. They look so cute and colorful, and I love marshmallow and sugar…just not together.

  14. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I like the way you think!! Seriously, I do! I really appreciate the time and effort that went into this creative post!

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