Painting eggs is a great pastime of Easter. It's supposed to be a cathartic, calming experience. The day is usually sunny, 'side from the runny rain.

Chelsea scrambles, but never forgets an egg painting contest. There are never any known winners, but the volunteers never crack.
Every year, in private, she shares the very forbidden century- techniques. A strong smell of sulfur could be whiffed from outside.
And the painted eggs afterward are immaculate... Grade A, and large. Contestants must really put themselves in the work.

After Chelsea's done showing them, she takes the eggs out back in a refrigerator sized carton.
She's usually a bit fried, but the Easter Egg hunt is soon. It dozen hurt to hide them early.

Days later, Hard-boiled detectives are called to the scene for missing persons reports, only ever finding the faint smell of sulfur.
Chelsea is long gone. And by the time they search the yard, even they can't find the Easter Eggs.

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Alright, omelette go of the yolking around for now. A big thank you to patrons for volunteering/sacrificing their OCs (it's all in fun, don't worry), and a thank you to watchers of the art stream for sharing their names for some 'post TF' eggs. This was a strange impulse idea turned into a picture, and I appreciate all that can tolerate it.

I'm mostly proud of finally coming up with a sketch I intended for portrait mode.

Happy Easter, 2025!