Easter, Monkeydust, and the Chocolate Eggs That Vanished Into Legend

Last year’s Easter turned into something legendary — and not because of any deep spiritual awakening or perfectly risen bread rolls. No, it was something much stranger, much stickier… and a little chocolatey.

It all started on the Saturday night before Easter Sunday. I was with two close friends, casually preparing a lovely little brunch for the next morning. We had carrot cake cooling on the counter, the table was covered in pastel linens and spring flowers, and we were listening to the kind of music that makes you feel like you’ve got your life together.

Enter: Monkeydust.

MDPHP — that intense, peculiar, wild chemical cousin of the cathinones — has a way of flipping the switch in your brain from “That’s a fun idea” to “We must do this right now and do it better than anyone ever has.” Suddenly, everything is urgent, brilliant, and absolutely worth obsessing over.

So when someone pulled out a bag of chocolate eggs and a stack of plastic ones, it didn’t take long before we all looked at each other with the exact same wide-eyed idea.
“Let’s hide the eggs.”
“For ourselves.”
“Tonight.”
“In the dark.”

It was past midnight.

Fueled by Monkeydust energy and wild enthusiasm, we turned my apartment into an Easter battleground. One of my friends dove behind the couch with a flashlight and hid eggs in the cushion seams. Another started duct-taping eggs under the table and whispering something about “surprise angles of discovery.” I took notes — or at least, I tried. I scribbled some kind of map on the back of a receipt, which promptly disappeared when I tried to fold it into an origami bunny.

We stashed chocolate eggs in the spice rack, the washing machine, under flower pots, inside teacups, and, I believe, somewhere near the freezer fan. We made up rules, forgot them immediately, and laughed like kids on sugar highs who had discovered time travel.

The next morning, Easter brunch was a success. The table looked adorable, the food was delicious, and we managed to keep it together just long enough to impress ourselves. But when we went to collect the eggs for the actual hunt… we found three.
Three.

Now, I know we hid at least twenty. Maybe more. But even after searching the apartment for days, they were nowhere to be found. Weeks went by. Then months. One egg turned up behind a book on my shelf — half-melted and oddly philosophical in its presence. Another showed up inside a box of winter scarves in August.

It’s now been a full year, and I still haven’t recovered the rest. I’m haunted by the thought that I might stumble across a forgotten egg someday in a shoe I haven’t worn, or worse — find a foil wrapper folded perfectly into a paper crane and have absolutely no memory of how it got there.

The thing is, Monkeydust doesn’t just supercharge your body — it sends your mind on an adventure it’s not always ready to return from. You feel brilliant, hyper-focused, and in total control… until the next idea steamrolls through your thoughts like a parade of neon rabbits. Time warps. Logic fades. But it’s all so much fun while it’s happening.

And now, with this year’s Easter just behind me, I find myself wondering:
What’s going to happen next time?

Will I finally find the last of last year’s missing eggs? Will we top the chaos with glow-in-the-dark clues and Easter riddles? Will we end up building an elaborate chocolate-based obstacle course that leads nowhere?

Honestly, I’m not sure. But part of me is very excited to find out.

And yes — I’ve already bought another pack of plastic eggs. Just in case.

Used Products:
– MDPHP Monkeydust