Like Egypt more than 3,000 years ago, New Orleans is plagued this time of year. But we don't have bloody rivers or frogs--we should be so lucky; instead we suffer stinging buckmoth caterpillars, or Hemileuca maia as I like to call them when I've been drinking. Here is a picture of the evil beast:
Because it's Passover, and because it's Holy Saturday, and because I'm the patriarch of a family of evil geniuses, today we decided to not take this plague passively. So we purchased the Caterpillar Kryptonite: Peeps:
Knowing full well that one peep would not survive a buckmoth caterpillar attack, Gilgamesh and Kalypso set to work combining the strongest elements of each Peep into a SuperPeep, sort of like Steve Austin, Frankenstein's Monster, and Robocop all in one. Here is our evil Easter laboratory:
Using pink chick peeps as feet was a no brainer, but then we went for yellow bunny body legs, with blue earless bunnies for the midsection. That was the evil genius part. Nobody would have ever thought of that. Muhaha!
In the end SuperPeep had three heads, a purple one, a yellow one in the middle, and on the other side, a blue head. In his right marshmellow hand he held an evil umbrella, in his left, a magic toothpick of insect death.
We brought the caterpillar to the Easter battle basket:
Instantly the caterpillar sprang to the jugular vein of the purple head on the peeps right, the caterpillar's left. The head came right off.
I know all about "science", so we all took detailed notes in a scientific journal.
We had to write fast though, because in 30 seconds the whole thing was over. There were peep parts everywhere. It was a horrifying marshmellowy carnage, though the smell was pleasant enough and reminded me of shmores minus the chocolate and graham.
So the caterpillar won this round, but we'll study our notes and be ready next year. As a bonus, what better pedagogical tool could anyone think of to better explain to my children the true meaning of Easter. That is of course if the Peeps tomb is empty tomorrow.