The Easter Bunny crawled closer to the chicken

The Easter Bunny crawled closer to the chicken coop. Ass and ears high above the low cut field grass. Anyone even half looking would of seen him. Stealth wasn't his strong suite

A Swiss mountain dog barked in the dusty driveway as a motorcade of black Mercedes slowly advanced on the tiny farmhouse, flinging dirt in the face of a pristine spring breeze.

It was at this point where my lisp got the better of me - jeers from my peers brought tears to my eyes, their leer trapping me like a deer in headlights. I had no choice but to

finally come out of the closet. Looking down at my parish I realized that I should have done this years before. So many of them had confessed their secrets to me: affairs, rapes,

hell, even murder. I knew every awful deed that had ever taken place in this one-horse town. If they didn't give me what I wanted, I would expose their sins for the world to see.

I would let everyone know that they only owned one horse.

I'd put up a billboard on either side of their home sayin' "One Horse Corral." Hell I'd bought up all the land surrounding it. I could do what I wanted. But there was one problem.

In my backyard lived a giant, anthropomorphic bookshelf. It woudn't stop shooting books at people. It was especially painful when it lodged volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica.

I can't imagine what sort of an existence this would be. But every night I went back at dusk to re-shelve, and with every volume replaced the bookshelf let out a contented sigh.