I believe that eating Marshmallow Peeps is committing murder. Every year when Easter rolls around and people get out their baskets and their eggs, I attempt to buy out all the Marshmallow Peeps in every store. Why would I do this pointless and slightly insane act, you ask? Well, I figure if I rescue all the Marshmallow Peeps in my town, they will repopulate despite the enormous losses in the other parts of the world. It works too; every year there are more Easter Peeps than the last.

Why no one has thought of this before is entirely beyond me, but someone has to save the Peeps. This is why every Easter I spend hundreds of dollars on my dream. I've thought about protesting – dressing up as a giant pink sugar-coated bunny – but in my dreams that scenario always ends in tragedy. I've thought about carrying signs with catchy slogans like: “Save the Bunnies and Ducks!” or “Eating Peeps Is Murder!” but being sent to an insane asylum is not going to further my cause. In truth, a lot of what I do sounds like insanity, but I can't give up what I believe just for the sake of fitting in. If I must pay penance, for the sake of my sugar-coated duck and bunny friends, I will – happily. Well, maybe not happily, but I will do it.

I really can't see why everyone needs to eat Peeps. After all, there are plenty of non-homicidal food out there. Cookies, for instance, taste really good and fill your mind with subliminal Cookie Monster messages.

I remember the first time I ate a Marshmallow Peep. I was six and my mom blew it up in the microwave. It was a garish pink, and because she nuked it too long, the sugar had melted and ran all over the mass of puffed, revolting fluff like blood. Its eyes popped off and the sockets looked cross-eyed.

Anyway, I think my message is pretty clear: QUIT KILLING MY FRIENDS. Next time you open that package containing the bunnies, or ducks, remember what I said. Remember the massive expense I pay for their freedom. Remember their tears and their poor popped-out eyes. Remember: Eating Marshmallow Peeps is murder.