Sucessful defence of the old homestead
This year after much labor and toil, I was well prepared for battle. I was in position with my night vision goggles just waiting for the first sighting of the enemy when the clock hit 12:01 a.m. Easter morn. They were out there. I could smell the sugary sweetness on the wind. It wouldn't be much longer now. Then the first bright yellow marshmallow bunny climbed over the outer perimeter barricade. It was quickly followed by marauding hoards of brightly colored chicks and bunnies. Their yellow, pink, and blue bodies forming a demonic tidal wave of color sure to bring terror to the bravest of hearts. The Peeps had arrived.
I quickly launched my attack. Globs of peanut butter rained down like Napalm to trap and ensnare their soft little bodies. Volley after Volley I fired. The soft pffft of the compressed air cannons heralding each sticky missile. Trapping them by the thousands until the peanut butter ran out but still they came.
They reached the second barricade. It was time to release the toddlers.
I had primed them well with soda and cartoons. You could almost feel them vibrate as I set them free on what was to be the killing ground between the second and third barricade. I know I shall never forget the gruesome sights I witnessed that morning. I admit I felt pity for that marshmallow army, but knowing what my fate would be should they prevail I continued on my course of action. I watched them being shoved by great double fistfuls into slobbering mouths. Their bodies squeezed together until they oozed between those chubby fingers in multicolored streams. The pulverized remains coating the children like some kind of technicolor armor. The toddlers carved a deadly swath through the enemy forces, decimating their ranks. Yet, still the Peeps came on.
Those who survived to climb the third barricade were forced to drop in to a wide deep concrete trench on the other side. I had partially filled the trench with Easter grass and liberally coated the walls with Crisco. This would effectively trap the Peeps until the sheer volume of them filled the trench. I waited until the waterfall of Peeps dropping into the trench slowed to a trickle and then eventually stopped all together. I watched the Peeps sliding around in the trench, entangled in the Easter grass, starting to build ramps with their bodies.
The first rays of sunrise were just painting the sky. I lit the Molotov cocktail in my hand and hurled it into the trench. The Easter grass went up like gasoline. The Peeps, coated in Crisco, became melting torches. Marshmallow candles whose bodies fed the flames until there was nothing left of them but black ash and the over powering smell of burnt sugar.
I know the war isn't over. I have won this year's battle but the Peeps will be back. Same time next year. Swarming like locust out of whatever dark demented hell spawns them, but for now these diminutive legions of evil are vanquished. My work is done.