Wait a minute, these are all bad eggs!

Ever been on an Easter Egg hunt? Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to offend. I should have known what a sensitive topic that was for you.

You know, after you found all that gross crap inside your Easter eggs year.

All this stuff. Sorry.

A dead rabbit

The dead rabbit was the economics equivalent of Einstein, and his theories would have lifted the world from poverty forever. Inscribed on his now-decayed paw was the secret method to turn lead into gold into delicious chocolate.

Your long-lost twin sibling

Isn't it cool? You have a twin! No, idiot, it's not cool. Now you have to share your candy. And your toys. And your parents' love. And your parents' enormous bequeathal after you secretly arrange their murder while they're vacationing in Acapulco.

Giant Jawbreaker

No, I mean, really giant jawbreaker. Oh my God! It's rolling! Look out! The garden gnome! The family cat! Your father's new fuel-efficient sedan!

Eviction notice

"Mom? Mom!"

"Yes, honey?"

"I found an Easter Egg! I did it, I found it!"

"What… Oh, honey, we didn't hide any Easter Eggs this year."

"It's a peanut butter cup! Mom, thanks!"

"Don't eat that, dear, it might be… what's this it's wrapped in? Oh - oh, oh no."

Ebola

Vaulting over the cast-iron fence, knees caked with spring mud, you tumble to a halt - your mother's begonias crushed - and before you, a single egg, the lavender of a May sunset. The egg is cracked, split into gaping halves. A doctor stands above the egg. "It's Easter," he says, as he pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You have Ebola."

Necco Wafers

Those things are freakin' gross.

Dinosaur Eggs, Fake

You've found the eggs! But they're fake. You didn't even have time to get excited. And what's that? That sound. A tapping, a clacking. Is that a baby chicken? Is it a tiny bunny, chewing lustily on a carrot? A ticking, maybe. Something else cute and adorable and harmless? Tick tick.

Tick tick.

Tick tick.

Dinosaur Eggs, Real

You've found the eggs! But you're too late. The once-sandy exterior of the watermelon-sized egg is mottled with an intestinal brown. The Apatosaurus hatchling lies dead - or perhaps never born - splayed out on your blacktop, its tongue lolling out comically. You go inside, hoping to purge your sorrows with mass media, but no number of "Land Before Time" viewings can repair the worst Easter ever.