Peeps are on permanent display in an art museum in Wisconsin and Perdue pointed out that up in Washington DC, the morning paper sponsored an elaborate Peeps diorama contest.

“What the heck is that about?” he wondered. “There’s nine percent unemployment and that whole Libya thing. And what’s a diorama anyway? Don’t they have something else they can write about?”

In Chicago, apparently believing chefs aren’t getting enough attention, the local paper asked three prominent chefs to create recipes using Peeps. They came up with: Well, who cares?

All that is certain is that by the first week in May, the Peep will be harder to find than a Christmas tree angel.

“The annual migration should be something for PBS,” said Peeps expert Perdue. “Where do they go from April to April? They’re basically indestructible unless you eat them.”

Loon points out that the local control tower team – Drowsy, Groggy, Droopy and Decaf – double as baggage handlers in the new economics of modern air travel.

“All the real money is in baggage fees,” he noted. “Can’t make any money on the short hop over to DeSoto Corners unless you get $35 for a checked bag.”

Government safety officials in charge of piling on the hours for air traffic controllers pretended to be shocked and outraged by the sleepy sentinels.

“Here in Washington we’re hard at work at least three days a week, especially in Congress,” said Federal Price Gouging Administrator Hiram Seatback.

”I mean, who do they think they are? All we’re asking them to do is get airplanes filled with people back on the ground.”

Said one ex-bartender: “You’re working in a gin mill, even one that has a Weight Watchers menu, and you don’t know the difference between the blender drinks and the apple juice? You’re in the wrong line of work, my friend.”

Another grizzled saloon veteran known only as Fido went further: “The first time I found myself behind the counter in a saloon that served apple juice to children would be the last time. That’s why God made Burger King.”

Breathless news accounts of the chain restaurant brouhaha noted that the child in question was fine and at one point put his head down on the table for a little nap.

“Been there, seen that,” said Mr. Bevnap.

The “Tattler” will ignore the presidential campaign of television annoyance Donald Trump, a man who bankrupt his own casino. Even if he picks Dog the Bounty Hunter as his running mate.

Lottery winners: We’re generally happy when people who don’t have much money get some. But we will refrain from coverage of press conferences in which six good old boys in Led Zeppelin T-shirts talk about how they split a lottery ticket at the Slurp-&-Go and won $278 million, most of which will go to their church.

Finally, the “Tattler” will limit its coverage of the annual twangy Country Music Awards with Reba McEntire and some guy in a big hat to five stories a year.

At present, the annual award show is on TV more than the gecko. Apparently they don’t know to count in Nashville but at the “Tattler,” we do.

“Some things are easier to close down than others,” Woody told the Tattler. “You got your General Accounting Office, your Office of Personnel Management, your Export-Import Bank. They take care of themselves.

“On the other hand, Homeland Security is kind of tricky, with those orange alerts and all. Shutting down the airports can make people edgy and the tree-huggers get all lathered up when they find out the national park is locked up.”

“We started hearing about smaller government back in the 1980s,” he said, “and naturally it’s been getting bigger than ever since.”

Personally, Woody tells us, his biggest concern is getting his retroactive pay. “Worked out great in 1995,” he said. “Got the back pay – kind of like a vacation.

And as for shutting down the government? “It’s like I tell Congress. If you were doing your job, I wouldn’t be doing mine.”