Sybil Bruncheon's Easter News From Around The World!!!...

Yes, Boys & Girls!..our little friends in Mexico also celebrate Easter! That's when Señor Pasas de Conejo Diablo comes to the back door...or maybe even climbs a ladder and breaks into the house in the middle of the night! He plays castanets and draws children's eyebrows so they look like Frida Kahlo, and he leaves brown rice, beans, and a jalapeño pepper in their slippers!... Now, doesn't THAT sound like a fun way to spend Easter?? ¡Sí cómo no!

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Sybil Bruncheon's Easter News From Around The World!!!...

"On our Planet Jazzuzltron, the Easter candy eats the CHILDREN!!! BWAH HA HA HA HA!!!!!"...

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Sybil Bruncheon's Easter News From Around The World!!!...

"Oh, dear GOD!!!... that baby chick I just ate was made out of ...MARSHMALLOW!!!"

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... from Sybil Bruncheon's “EASTER EGGS-traordinaries”… Greggy Horbinger…

Greggy Horbinger was NOT a very nice child. He started bullying his classmates even in nursery school! Imagine! At 4 years of age, he managed to black the eye of Stevey Whiteford… who considered Greggy his “very bestest friend”… well, until he blacked his eye. The Whitefords were terrified that Stevey might even lose the eye for about a week. Thank goodness Dr. Chaka had been so vigilant, thorough, and comforting. And discerning too. He warned the Whitefords that they should steer Stevey away from the Horbinger boy, even when Mr. Whiteford was in a forgiving mood with his “boys will be boys” nonsense (as Mrs. Whiteford called it). Dr. Chaka was Greggy’s pediatrician too, and he had already noticed… “unsettling things” about Greggy almost from birth. Greggy played too rough with the puppy his father had given him for his second Christmas, and by that July, the Hornbingers had given the puppy (fortunately!) a new home with a loving neighbor lady. Who knows how that might have turned out?... 

Suffice it to say that with Greggy being so aggressive and belligerent at 4, he could only accelerate and intensify his malignant energy. Toys were broken and stolen from other unwary children. Acts of vandalism started out small and repairable enough but escalated into serious and often heartbreaking acts of damage and loss… and finally the police had to be involved… and Children’s Court. The Horbingers remained indignant about Greggy’s behavior, making excuses about the school board and its teachers being somehow whimsically and unfairly against “our little Greggy”. They claimed all sorts of conspiracies and plots surrounded their special child and never admitted or took responsibility for the shambles that he was leaving in his wake. Other mothers avoided Mrs. Horbinger in the grocery store or at the gardening center. Mr. Horbinger was no longer included in golf or tennis games at the club.

And then came that particular Easter celebration in the town square open to all the children of the community. The school bands competed in the beautiful gazebo in Mendelsohn Park by the huge fountain. There was the annual bake sale and contest for best cakes, best pies, best jellies & jams, best cookies and tarts. And of course there were the three-legged race, the sack race, the egg-carry on spoons race, and the Easter Egg Hunt… with a grand prize of a brand new bicycle for the child who found the most eggs! 

It was during the award and ribbon presentation ceremonies at dusk, right before the fireworks, that someone screamed!… over by the chicks and bunnies cages! A terrifying and terrified scream… by a child. It was little Helen McGormley, just 8, who shrieked and pointed at Greggy Horbinger, now also 8, as he dangled a squealing and writhing baby bunny by its ears. Dozens of frantic people, adults and children alike, raced to the screaming and continuing to scream and now crying Helen and follow her accusing finger to the reason… Greggy, smirking and beginning to wave the terrified bunny back and forth, challenging everyone, anyone to stop him. It was Officer Gladys Baker coming up behind him at full speed who both saved the bunny before it could be injured (or killed !) with one hand, and yanked the brat by the hair with her other and tossed him eight feet or so across the lawn. He landed with a scream and a heavy thud flat on his face in an inconvenient pile of trampled mud from the heavy Spring rains the night before. Except that most of the people were still shaken by Helen’s terror and the violence of Greggy’s treatment of the little bunny, Greggy’s smashed-in mud-face looking like a chocolate cream pie-fight triggered wild mocking laughter, finger-pointing, and hurled insults as the Horbinger adults rushed up. They were met with derisive and even angry insults, and not very veiled threats… so much so that the police, and Officer Gladys took charge and hustled all three of the Horbingers quickly to the parking lot, the filthy and bellowing Greggy literally lifted by his mud-drenched jumper by one of the burlier cops, none-too-gently. The bunny meanwhile was taken to the waiting and loving arms of little Helen to be consoled and consoling.

Imagine the entire town’s response to the news on Monday morning. As if the gossip and eye-witness reports weren’t enough to fill the coffee shops, the hair salons, the office elevators and water-cooler areas, the grocery store check-out lines with feverish versions of what had happened, and what always happened whenever “that Greggy Horbinger” was involved. No! There was more! Actually more. For the police had been called at dawn, presumably by the parents, the horrified and incoherent parents when they found their son. Dead. His face snarling like it often did, but now frozen in its familiar snarl… the face of a child who had somehow died not from any obvious violence, but was dead just the same. And more terrifying of all, that he had been stuffed into some hacked apart cushions and throw pillows from the wrap-around modular sofa… and fashioned, if that’s what it could be called, into an… Easter Bunny. A huge department store Easter Bunny… the kind you might see in Pinkleton’s holiday window display, surrounded by giant chocolate eggs covered in pastillage flowers and ribbons, loaded into dozens of festive baskets stuffed with colored grass nestling toys and treats, marshmallow peeps, and chocolate Easter bunnies… 

But there were no treats or Easter cheer for the police this grey morning. Just overturned furniture and torn and scattered cushions stuffed with the dismembered corpse of an inveterately rotten and irredeemable child. And as they stepped through the wreckage, Gladys Baker was heard to whisper to the coroner, “oh well…”…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Biographies in Brief!... Uncle Fuzzy…

Mr. Herbert Limpkin had the distinction at eight years of age of being the only person ever bitten by one of the cute little bunnies at the Oakleyville Presbyterian Petting Zoo… and during their Springtime “Let’s Meet Our Animal Friends Festival”. Imagine how little Herbie must have felt with his pudgy little hand throbbing and bleeding as he looked down at the hissing white bunny with the red eyes!... and there on the office wall of the zoo’s nurse, a poster of the Blesséd Savior in his heavenly white robe, surrounded by little animals and children, extending his crucified palms… and all of them smiling; Jesus, animals, children smiling right at Herbie as he begged Nurse Charmondely NOT to put in the three stitches! Of course she did, and gave him a tetanus shot as well, which hurt like Hell!...

…which also gave him his infernal idea… the idea he employed as an adult when he decided to be the Easter Bunny at the Halloween Holidays-in-Hell Barn in Akron, Ohio. High School and college kids from miles around came to the fabulously scary installation which ran from October 1st through Halloween night itself, ending in a massive costume party and dance and a contest with prizes! Interestingly, no one seemed to notice as the October days went by that Mr. Limpkin was getting weirder and more withdrawn from his fellow “ghouls” and “goblins” during their lunch and dinner breaks in the cafeteria. Authorities found out later that he spent hours every night after work “enhancing” his Easter Bunny costume with finger nails made from actual nails… and teeth made from sharpened bathroom tiles. Scarier and scarier… and finally quite horrifying according to the two managers and the director of the facility, shortly before Herbie brought the ax… and used it. Later, during his seven consecutive life-sentences, he created the Uncle Fuzzy Junior Jammies Company employing his sewing skills, making cozy pajamas for children… and Uncle Fuzzy’s company slogan??... “Sweet Dreams Are Our Business!”…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs"... the Palladium at Easter time...

April 19th, 1987:

It was Easter Sunday at The Palladium at 126 East 14th Street in Greenwich Village (just down from the original 19th century Luchow's Restaurant which was still standing!). "Jeffrey Sanker invites you to join the newly crowned Empress of New York, Sybil Bruncheon, for her first annual Easter Bonnet Parade. Wear your favorite bonnet and Win $500 First Prize." Look at that! ...a $500.00 first prize! Can you imagine? That was more than two month's rent for lots of folks back then. My panel of celebrity judges included John Lewis, Joan Baker, Michael Kenney, and Evelyn Blair. (...and our invitation photo was by Jack D. Pedota / AVANTOGRAPHY. Thanks to Susan Suka Taylor for styling too!!!)

There was a special guest performance, and Scott Blackwell was our DJ... and the whole thing started at 12:30 AM (which meant Steve Rubell would hold us till 1:00... or later!! Jeeeesh!) But we were paid in cash!... and whenever I did a show for Steve, he’d come up to me and say, "I loved it, kid!", and press an envelope into my hand with twice as much as he’d originally offered.. I pointed it out to him the first night of working for him, thinking he'd made a mistake, and he said, "What!?! Don't ya think ya deserve it, kid??"... and laughed! Back then, I worked for all the great party promoters, and Jeffrey Sanker was one of the best! Eventually he moved to Florida and built a huge career down there! Steve died in 1989…. And the Palladium, originally built in1927, is long gone now thanks to NY University which tore it all down in 1998 (as they're tearing down so much of Greenwich Village still). They replaced it with a giant dorm... which they named "The Palladium"… nice… that’s a great consolation. Whatever.

(Sybil photo by Jack D. Pedota. Styled by Susan Suka Taylor)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "EASTER EGGS-traordinaries"... A heartfelt prayer at our Holy Time:

"Oh, Lamb of Sweet Disposition, protecteth us from the wiles of the Great Trickster! ...he that farteth near our simple meals, and replaceth wholesome beans which we have dug from the ground with our prayerful hands with shrew turds and skittle beetles. Just this past Sabbath Day, our loving children opened their few candies bartered from the local Duane Reade Apothecary Shoppe on the corner of Jersey Cow Path and Goody Proctor Blvd. My own daughter, Charity Hope Polite-tress (she is 8 years of age and can already recite Revelations backwards in a convincing baritone!), unwrapped a 6 month old candy saved from thy Birthday only to find that the chocolate treat inside bore a striking resemblance to the Cruel Prankster whose name may not be mentioned in virtuous circles and who likes to make bad faces with his rear-end at our quilting-bees. My dearest childe shrieked in horror and threatened it with her home made cross that she had fashioned from twigs and her own yanked-out hair. The villagers gathered with other infernal candies that the other sweetlings had found in their own huts and lean-tos. We now know that the so-called "tin foil" is the Devil's work because of its similarity to mirrors which have been strictly prohibited by our elders as encouraging the twin sins of Vanity and Washing. And the painting of the foil is clearly a tribute to the Whore of Babylon and her temptations of our innocent young men to the sin of self-touching! Some of our young have also put the hated tin foil in their mouths and noticed that the Fiendish One pricks their gums with lightning flashes and bad tastes....And so, we asketh humbly that you, Kindly Shepherd, protect your lambs from grotesque pranks like these, and also from cavities in our remaining teeth... Thanking Thee in advance, I remain your devoted servant here in the Little Church Of Perpetual Consternation, Reverend Piety Sawyer.”

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Sybil Bruncheon's "EASTER EGGS-traordinaries"... Brooklyn Heights, NY.

Little Brucie Farnsworth had always had a sensitive and artistic nature. On his first birthday he had pointed quite obviously to a living room designed by Angelo Donghia in his mother's Architectural Digest magazine and said his first words, “Dong! DONG!”. On his second birthday, he asked if Mario Buatta had designed his cake when it was wheeled out with bright frosting flowers cascading down the side in a generous spiral. By three, he could identify differences between I. M. Pei, Bauhaus, Phillip Johnson, and Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, and had written fan letters to both Frank Gehry and Richard Meier….in crayon!... which were ANSWERED!

It was during his fourth Easter that little Brucie had his nervous breakdown which hospitalized him til the following June. It wasn't the terrifying Bunny costume that Uncle Fred had put on! It was the hideous brown-ish Gainsborough-esque upholstery on Grandpa's dowdy wing-chair and how it clashed with the lurid colors and cheap printing of the dining room's faux-Monet wallpaper!... and velvet paintings of Venice and the Last Supper! The last thing the entire family heard before he fainted was Brucie's screeching voice, "MY EYES!!!....dear God, MY EYES!!!"... NYC Child Services was immediately called by the ambulance attendants reporting possible child abuse in the household. Brucie’s family was led away in handcuffs in front of the entire neighborhood and pelted with Cadbury chocolate egg creams and stale marshmallow peeps, the really hard, dried out kind….which hurt.

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....from Sybil Bruncheon's "EASTER EGGS-traordinaries"... Mother and my diet...

Happy Easter, Darlings!… here's a photo of Mummie as a very little girl when she modeled for the Louis Sherry Chocolate Company... Sadly, instead of letting me be proud that I was in the Ladies Home Journal, my mother used this photo to frighten and harangue me about my weight over the next 30 years. "Look, Sybil! JUST LOOK AT YOURSELF! YOU WEIGH MORE THAN TWO LITTLE BUNNIES! Fatty! Fatty! YOU ARE A FATTY!!!!"...

And you wonder why I later hit the gym seven-days-a-week and became the Daughters of the Mayflower Ladies Bodybuilding Champ for all of New England!

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....from Sybil Bruncheon's "EASTER EGGS-traordinaries"... Wauseon, Ohio...

Breaking News! TREE EATS BENCH! ...with the warmer weather, well... Sadly, Mrs. Veronica Cromandley did not get out of the way in time... sitting here for the last 17 years after her husband Cyrus passed away, she made a point of feeding the pigeons stale cookie crumbs from her artisanal bakery The Purdy Little Pie Palace. Apparently, she dozed off some time last month, and the old Yankee elm on the corner of Jasper Avenue and Swankton Blvd. slowly consumed the bench, Mrs. Cromandley, her crumbs, and her new lunch bonnet from Lilly Daché!....and it was in the new very stylish "Bonjour Printemps" shade that Paris is raving about. When called to the scene, police and groundskeepers found a bit of netting and some feathers next to a stained Lilly Daché label. No remains were recovered. The family has requested that in lieu of flowers, people donate money and/or Parker House rolls to the Audubon Society.

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