Mr. Pug & Mr. Other Pug

Mr. Pug tied the back of Mr. Other Pug’s apron.

“I don’t get it,” said Mr. Other Pug. “How can a rabbit produce eggs like a chicken?”

“There are a lot of things that are beyond pug-comprehension,” said Mr. Pug. “Yours especially.”

“But it’s biologically impossible,” continued Mr. Other Pug.

“You just have to have faith,” explained Mr. Pug as he balanced a freshly hardboiled egg in a spoon and slowly dipped it in green liquid. He then repeated the process for blue and yellow and pink. When he was done he held the spiraled, rainbow colored orb to show Mr. Other Pug. It was still wet from the dye so it glistened under the florescent kitchen lights.

“So tell me again,” said Mr. Other Pug. “Baby Jesus has a pet rabbit and thru the magic obtained while living for a little more than a month on Noah’s Ark, it lays an egg that pugs have to paint a vivid display of pigments?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Mr. Pug.

Mr. Other Pug cradled his egg in a ladle and dipped in into the bowl with the red dye.

“And when we’re done we hide them out on the lawn?” he asked.

“Now you got it,” said Mr. Pug.

“I don’t even know what we’re talking about,” bemoaned Mr. Other Pug.

“Look, it’s like Christmas,” said Mr. Pug. “Except you replace Santa with a magic chocolate bunny…”

“Who poops eggs,” added Mr. Other Pug trying to remember the story.

“Yes…who poops eggs,” agreed Mr. Pug.

“That we color,” continued Mr. Other Pug.

“Yes,” confirmed Mr. Pug.

“And hide outside,” continued Mr. Other Pug even further.

“Yes, we put the colored eggs on mounds of shredded green plastic and carry them outside in little baskets and hide them in the garden,” explained Mr. Pug.

“And why do we do this?” asked Mr. Other Pug.

Mr. Pug was getting exasperated.

“We do this because it’s a fun tradition that families can do together,” said Mr. Pug.

“But you’re my family and we do everything together anyways,” said Mr. Other Pug.

“How many eggs did you do so far,” said Mr. Pug, changing the subject.

Mr. Other Pug looked at the colored eggs in front of him. He saw two green ones, a blue polka dot one, three with red and purple alternating stripes and one with a black-on-white fleur-des-lis pattern that he ran across in a tattered copy of Martha Stewart Living that he found behind the toilet. There were seven all in.

“I count 50 so far, said Mr. Other Pug, proving once again that pugs were awful when it came to the Maths & Sciences.

“Ok,” said Mr. Pug. “That’s plenty. Let’s take a break.” He reached in to the pocket of his apron and pulled out a chocolate bunny.

“Oh, my gosh! You have the idol!” shrieked Mr. Other Pug.

Mr. Pug broke off the ears of the chocolate bunny and handed one to Mr. Other Pug.

“Ooooh, Solid,” Mr. Other Pug observed while nibbling the sweet.

“And there’s more,” said Mr. Pug.

“Dammit,” he said while turning away and shielding his eyes. “I hate this part of our Easter tradition.”

“Well, you can’t have a religious celebration without having a sacrifice,” said Mr. Pug reaching into his apron pocket yet again.

“Mr. Other Pug,” said Mr. Pug brandishing a Marsh-Mellow Peep. “Prepare the microwave!”