Because I was such a cool kid in high school, you would often find me in da club. Debate club. Every Friday, I as well as 12 other dedicated nerds would skip hanging out at the boy’s school as was custom (all girls Catholic high school for the win) to politely argue with each other about morally gray philosophical ideas like we knew a thing about the world at the ripe ages of 16. Ah to be young, wild, and free.

In homage to my youthful debate exploits, I thought I would dust off the ole argumentative tactics that secured me numerous debate victories and present, argued in 3 parts, the validity (or lackthereof) of giving the Easter Bunny free upgrades to First Class, when available. Let’s begin.

Wanna get wild and argue Rousseau’s theories on humanity?

We’re one jellybean away from the brink of societal collapse

While this holiday hare isn’t bound by the specificity of lists like his most well-known yuletide counterpart, his job is no less demanding. The toil and struggle of carting countless baskets full of chocolate and outdoor springtime toys cannot be overstated. I think we can all agree that a rabbit who does so much for us and asks for so little in return (take a note, Santa, you cookie goblin), surely deserves to rest his little cotton tail in the plush and expansive seat one finds in the First Class Cabin.

It’s no secret that the overhead bins in First and Business class are blessedly vacant for those first to board…

Imagine the chaos that would rain down upon society if we allowed the Easter Bunny’s precious cargo to, in fact, go, in the cargo. Hidden eggs? Crushed like the hopes and dreams of their eager seekers. Candy? Chalk? Other outdoor delights? Forgotten, alone in a nondescript bag stuck on an endless loop in the baggage claim of a sad random airport, never to see the sun of springtime.

…as space becomes scarce, I am loathe to imagine little boys and girls, perhaps yours, weeping, broken hearted, and asking “but where are our chocolate bunnies? We were such good little children and yet we reap no egg-shaped malted-milk rewards?”

But most of all, think of the children and the implications on society as a whole. With no reward for good behavior, parents loose credibility and a viable threat to instill obedience and decency in their children. With motivations for good behavior gone, society will be overrun by chaos; instead of their teeth slowly rotting from the aftermath of Peep ingestion it will be the very moral fabric of society- one that the Easter Bunny along with other holiday harbingers, delicately reinforce stitch by stitch, each and every year.

Give the rabbit his upgrade, and give our society a fighting chance.

What’s next? Serving up warm nuts in a trough to accommodate all 12 Christmas reindeer? If the paying public wanted a seat among rabbits, they’d go sit in a field with a bag of carrots. I sympathize with the tribulations the Easter Bunny must face in his travels encumbered with so much candy and other various Easter accoutrement, but isn’t this what he signed up for?

If he didn’t have the means to schlep countless dyed eggs around the world, then he had no business signing up to bring baskets of corn-syrupy joy to thousands of children.

“My favorite thing about this seat is the utter lack of rabbits”

I also have to wonder at my opponent’s faith in the power of such holiday sponsors- surely a moral society is dictated by more than a giant bearded man and a candy-carting rabbit.

If they are the only stalwarts in between us and complete moral decay, I shudder to think at the future trajectory of society.

I’d also like to point out, that I for one believe certain things are still sacred: two of which being immediate table bread at every sit-down restaurant, and First-Class standards. My opponent spoke of the moral fiber of society, and I would argue that allowing holiday vermin into a space meant to dignify air travel, is the ultimate societal breakdown.

Lastly, think of the allergy situation. Again, Premium Cabins mean something, or at least they used to; do the elite not deserve to breath dander-free air? What’s more, the potential allergy risk transforms into asset in the main cabin- the place of the common man is one full of bodies and stench. Surely the toiling masses would welcome a bunny-induced stopgap in their nasal prowess. Everyone wins!

Wait, he probably uses holiday magic to get around, right? So, what are we even doing here?