This is the story of the Hippy Dip Egg King of Easter Isle.
He was a powerful king. Nothing could stop him from his royal Easter duties, not the blustery winds of tornadoes or the threatening waters of bath time, not even the promise of new Sponge Bob episodes. With one wave of his cardboard scepter, his command went out amongst his faithful minions.
"Create the eggs!" he commanded.
Each magic fizzy color tablet was plopped into its own vinegar laced cup and one by one each pristine snowy egg was lowered under his watchful eye. He would allow no mistakes. No re-dos would he have.
"Give me blue and green, red, yellow and purple. I want them rainbow hued and dippity do'ed!" The minions worked tirelessly, staining their hands, dipping without dropping, and wishing they were watching TV instead.
He was merciless, the Egg King, but the minions knew it was the only way to save the mighty kingdom and return it to what it once was. They understood the King's egg dipping time was drawing nigh and once that happened the eggs would be no more, so hence they labored on.
The eggs, once stained to the King's liking, were gingerly laid side by side on the royal table bequeathed from the land of Ikea and left to dry, guarded only by the King's trusted and hungry companion Buddy the Wonder Dog.
The minions, who by now were exhausted and needing to use the restroom, began the preparation of the finely crafted baskets imported from Tar-zhay as only the very best would do for the King. The prepared eggs were arranged upon the specially shredded plastic grass with great care and lined up in wait for the furry footed visitor that would only call under cover of darkness.
The King covered all his bases, leaving nothing to chance. After all, the future of the entire kingdom was at stake.
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The townspeople knew the illusive wiggle nosed stranger held the key to the survival of the kingdom, of that the residents of Easter Isle were sure. The mysterious stranger, known only by his initials, E.B., would surely receive the sacrificial eggs and in their stead, leave the very lifeblood of all of Easter Isle - chocolate.
It was the chocolate that held the key. The chocolate that they craved. The key to all that was right with the world and Easter Isle. Now they must wait.
Easter morning dawned and with it new hope, hope of restoration, hope of life. The King made his way to check the baskets and upon arrival found the eggs had been accepted and replaced with chocolate. A cheer went up from the townspeople. Their egg-dyeing efforts had not been in vain.
While the cheering continued, the King raised his hand to quickly quiet the crowd. His other hand pulled a small nibbled piece of carrot colored paper from the grass. While the townspeople waited, the King read from the quickly scrawled writing, "The hope you seek is not in this chocolate. Your happiness will not be found in this basket. The key to what you seek is in the one who came before me. HE IS RISEN and only in Him will your life be found!"
The crowd that gathered pondered these words as the wise King raised his cardboard scepter triumphantly toward the sky and declared, "From this day forward, our hope will no longer be in chocolate, but in Jesus!"
The people's jubilant shouts could be heard throughout the kingdom. From that moment on, Easter Isle had forever been changed as had the people's hearts.
"...Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He isn't here! He is risen from the dead!..." (Luke 24: 5-6 NLT)
