The chocolate rabbit is as synonymous with Easter in New Zealand as marshmallow eggs and arcane trading laws. But not all are create equal, as Amanda Thompson discovered. 

I have the coolest ufabet co-workers in New Zealand. In case you think you have the coolest co-workers in New Zealand, before you set your pants on fire being a liar liar consider this: yesterday two kingfish were cleaned and gutted in our staffroom sink by a team member (coy about his exact age, I can nevertheless reveal he has several grandkids), who said he “won them” off a bloke on a boat who dared him to do a couple of backflip manus off the wharf. Case closed. 

However. It has been brought to my incredulous attention that some of the very rad people I work with don’t really dig marshmallow easter eggs and don’t care to centre them as the key part of their festive Easter feasting – they are all about hoeing into the chocolate carcass of a cutesy anthropomorphic rabbit instead. As I have annoyingly and often stated, I am not OK with this. 

Chocolate-coated marshmallow is my hero, my king, my delicious conqueror. How could my many hard-working colleagues of above average intellect and attractiveness actually prefer chocolate bunnies? Staggered by this revelation, what was I, a marshmallow fangirl, to do?