Who doesn't like Easter? If Billy were reading this, he'd probably say something like, "Oh, golly, not me!" because he loved Easter. He's the protagonist. Billy Protagonist didn't always love Easter and there would come a time when he would absolutely hate it, maybe even fear it. For now, though, he loved Easter, and he couldn't even remember why he used to not love it, although he would probably be reminded of the reason at some point later on. Maybe not, though. I haven't decided what that reason is yet. It was late on the night before Easter Sunday, and Billy could just not get to sleep. His teeth were chattering away, which had nothing to do with the extremely frigid weather. He was bundled up nicely. Billy chatters his teeth when he's excited or when he's cold and this time he was not cold, so logically he would be what? Excited. Very good. Billy was excited because tomorrow was Easter Sunday, which meant he could wake up at a reasonable hour and enjoy his Easter. Not at all like several years ago. "Ah, several years ago..." Billy muttered to himself as he began to remember Easter several years ago. Quite done remembering Easter several years ago, Billy continued with his teeth chattering. Eventually he fell asleep, which will thankfully give us time to further explore his Easter from several years ago. "Ah, several years ago..." the narrator said aloud, because it was something he was allowed to say out loud. The narrator had many rules by which he was forced to live for reasons he was not allowed to get into just yet. Regardless, just note that "Ah, several years ago" is one of the many things he is allowed to say. Of the things he's not allowed to say, the two most regrettable ones would have to be "don't fuck me like that" and "that's not what my penis is for." Any variations are also forbidden. *********************** It was Easter Sunday 3 years ago, back when Billy hated Easter. His parents were alive back then, and they were the most immature little pukes he had ever met. This was saying a lot, because Billy went to a new elementary school every day. By the second grade, he was already acquainted with thousands of immature little pukes. His parents took the cake, though. Then they puked the cake up like the childish little shits that they were. "Wake up, Billy!" they both shouted at 5 in the morning. "It's Easter Sunday, yaaaaaaaaay!" His dad screamed. "Candy, alriiiiiiiiight!" His mom screamed. "Wake up, Billy!" They both shouted. This was only one of Billy's reasons for hating Easter, though it was one of the Big Two. The other of the Big Two would come after breakfast. After breakfast, Billy's parents handed him what they handed him every miserable Easter, a carton of eggs. Most kids would sure enjoy being allowed to toss eggs at his neighbor's house, but not Billy. Billy was super lame, you see, and the idea of throwing anything breakable or gooey at his neighbor's door made him think, "I could so be reading a book right now." Also his neighbor was a warlock, so Billy was constantly worried about, you know... pissing off the warlock. "Time for the Easter Toss, Billy!" his father shouted. "Yay!" his mother confirmed. "Billy!" And so they Easter Tossed the warlock's house. *************** Three years later again and Billy's parents were long dead. He lived alone and was much better off for it, even though he's like twelve or something. Several hours past 5am, Billy got out of bed and had breakfast. He had a different tradition now. It was no longer an Easter Toss, but an Egg Hunt with the entire neighborhood. Even the warlock had forgiven Billy for his past egg-related sins and would attend his Egg Hunts. There were two rules for Billy's Easter Egg Hunts, and they were "Don't mention my dead parents" and "no eggs may be white." Any white egg reminded Billy of those horrible days when he was forced to egg the warlock's house. Any mention of his dead parents did the same. Billy considered adding another rule, "Have fun," but he thought that was already implied by the party hats everyone was required to wear. So far, everyone seemed fine with the two rules and the one requirement. "Hey, Billy! Over here!" Billy heard from the Starting Tree outside his house. It was his friend Jerald. They were always partners for Egg Hunt, and Jerald had done the smart thing and gotten a good spot at the Starting Tree. "Hey, Jerald," Billy said, waving towards the Starting Tree. "Ready for a good hunt?" "You know it," Jerald answered, waving away from the Starting Tree. Billy began walking towards the Starting Tree and noticed that, oh golly, his shoes were untied. "Hold on a second!" he shouted at Jerald. "My shoes are untied!" Jerald nodded, indicating he heard and understood Billy's shoelace problem. Billy bent over to tie his shoes and took a quick glance at the yard, expecting to see at least one delightfully colored egg. What he saw was much worse. It was even worse than seeing at a white egg. Billy saw no eggs. "What the fudge?" Billy said aloud, quickly forgetting his shoelace problem and standing back up to get a better view of the lawn. Again no eggs, coloured or otherwise. He turned towards the Starting Tree and saw something even more alarming. "Jerald?" Billy asked no one, because Jerald was gone. As a matter of fact, no one was around at all. A lawn with no eggs and a Starting Tree with no people. Something was terribly wrong. "HELLO?!?" Billy shouted down the block. "Revenge!" came a suspiciously warlocky voice. "What?" Billy asked. "This is my revenge!" came that suspiciously warlocky voice from a slowly materializing suspiciously warlocky figure. "For what?" Billy asked. "Are you the warlock?" "Yes!" said the figure, who now clearly looked and sounded like a warlock. Not that all warlocks look and sound alike. But, you know... some of them do. "Is this for-" Billy began. "-Egging my house all those times," the Warlock interrupted. "Yes." "But I-" "-Hated doing it, I know." "So why are you-" "-Getting revenge on you anyway?" "Yeah." "I must pay you back for what you did to your parents," the Warlock explained. "But I don't even remember what I did!" Billy shouted. "It was mere months ago!" the Warlock pointed out. Billy paused and began to think. "Ah, mere months ago..." Billy began to remember. "No!" the Warlock stopped him. "The narrator has already used his one flashback for the day! The reader must INFER!!!" Billy stopped remembering and just sort of stood there for a minute. "So what now?" he asked. The Warlock stared blankly at Billy for more than a few minutes. "You..." the Warlock began. "You are... stuck here? ... Forever doomed? Yes. Forever doomed to... hunt... for eggs? That aren't there?" "Is this your first revenge?" Billy asked as nicely as he could. The Warlock disappeared in a flash, leaving Billy alone to wonder what the hell just happened. He looked down at the soft, soft grass. Just next to his foot was a single, white egg. The white egg was meant to creep you out, although I understand if it didn't. The End Other Tales To Tell 'Round Midnight The Curse Of The Moongician And The Spooked-Out Mirror The Winter After The Summer The Shock Shack Shocks Back The Bloody Kid The Summer Before The Summer The Shock Shack Shocked Back The Mask Next Door The Halloween That Was Actually Arbor Day The Undelivered Package The Slightly Haunted Mansion Party Across The Street From The Significantly More Haunted Mansion Party Now You Invisible, Now You Don't Invisible Nightmare At Nightmare High
Most rich kids just want to be pop stars.
How did these hyper-specific tropes spread so quickly?
The Hollywood rumor mill has been playing games with celebrity deaths for at least a century.
It's easy to work the system and win these awards even if you don't deserve them.