Stoned Easter Bunny Fails to Deliver Baskets

Easter fell on 4/20 this year, creating a serious schedule conflict for Peter Cottontail.

The Easter Bunny, high as a kite, munching a bag of Doritos. Image credit: Bud Greene

SPRINGFIELD MEADOWS — After millions of children across America woke up expecting baskets overflowing with goodies, only to discover that the Easter Bunny had never showed up, it was found that Peter Cottontail failed to deliver on his annual expedition because he was just zonked out of his gourd.

This disappointing absence of colorful eggs and individually wrapped diabetes was more than we at The Microwave could bear. So, of course, being the reliable source of investigative journalism that we are, we sent two reporters—Dennis Stonewall and Bud Greene—to Springfield Meadows to get to the bottom of this situation.

It was a sunny day, and a light breeze carried the scent of flowers when the reporters arrived at the Easter Bunny’s picturesque rabbit hole around 4:20 p.m. Immediately, they noticed something was just a bit… off. “We were hesitant to knock on the door, for it smelled as if a skunk was nesting there,” remarked Stonewall. “But it was the only rabbit burrow in sight, so we went with it.” They tested the door, and, finding it unlocked, stepped cautiously inside Peter Cottontail’s purported residence.

“Baskets were piled to the ceilings, the lighting was strange, and the air was thick with smoke,” recalls Stonewall. “I was afraid the Easter Bunny may have been caught in a house fire.” But they kept treading carefully through the rabbit hole, eventually rounding a corner. 

That’s when they saw the Easter Bunny sprawled on the couch, eyes half-closed, a bag of Doritos in one front paw and a fat bong in the other.

The rest of the story practically told itself: there was no house fire…the Easter Bunny had just spent the entire day hotboxing the hell out of his burrow and getting higher than Katy Perry in the Blue Origin rocket.

Upon realizing there were uninvited guests in his home, the Easter Bunny blinked about 21 times, adjusted his position on the couch, and took a massive rip of his bong. “Duuuuude…. What YEAR is it?” he drawled. The reporters informed the absolutely zooted rabbit that it was Easter Sunday, April 20th, 2025. “It’s… it’s still 4/20, man,” the stoned hare replied. “I— uh, here… have a space cake.” He gestured to the table on his left, upon which was situated a half-eaten plate of weed-infused brownies. 

Our reporter Bud Greene gladly took a brownie and took a seat next to Peter Cottontail, whose eyes were presently redder than the cherry-flavored pot gummies scattered around the floor. The faded rabbit began to roll up a joint. “Bro... you ever think about how eggs... like... symbolize life, but we just, like... paint ‘em and hide ‘em in bushes? That’s deep.”

“I know, right?” replied Greene. “That’s, like… some serious meta right there.”

However, they still needed to get to the bottom of how exactly the Easter Bunny could have possibly overlooked his one annual duty. Greene, who quite enjoyed the brownie, was intrigued. “This your first 4/20?”

“Nah, bro, I allllllways do this……” the bunny started, trailing off for a good 42 seconds and blinking several times before munching a Dorito. “This is, like… my day to really connect with the universe, man… I can, like, hear the carrots talking to me.” The bunny took a puff of his dank joint. 

Stonewall coughed, scrunched his nose, and reminded Cottontail that children across the world were awaiting baskets of eggs and candy.

The rabbit picked up an edible. “I…uh…guess I thought if I just did a quick wake and bake, y’know, chiefed just a little Easter grass, I would still have time… I think I do still got time…” The Easter Bunny slowly got up off the couch and stumbled to his delivery basket, still clutching his nearly-empty bag of Doritos. “Anyone else kinda…hungry?” Stonewall declined, though Greene slipped another pot brownie from the cluttered coffee table.

Cottontail carefully placed his bong, rolling paper, Doritos, and a few ounces of fresh flower in his basket and stumbled off into the dimming sunshine of Easter.

At press time, the completely baked rabbit could still be seen in the distance (apparently in deep conversation with an egg), and Bud Greene was nowhere to be found.