Winnie The Pooh, They Ain't

You know what are funny? Bears.

Bears are funny. Of course, they’re also 1500-lb Death Machines that are stronger and faster than you, not to mention hairier than even Robin Williams could ever hope to be.

And for some reason, the perfectly rational terror of these walking fuzzy wrecking balls of doom strikes people as hilarious. Go figure.

Sidebar? I think I know what happened in the whole evolution-thing. Those greedy sons of bitches wanted the whole package, so what’d they do? They took it. Bears… there’s no trusting ‘em.

In Line at Charles Darwin’s Booth For Evolutionary Attributes, A Natural Selection. The The raccoons just grabbed the last set of usable digits, and who shows up, but the freaking bears.

Grizzly Adams: Gimme strength.
Charles Darwin: One strength, there you are. Have a nice day.
GA: Nuh uh. Gimme size.
CD: I’m sorry, sir, but only one to a customer.
GA: Don’t care. I’m a bear. Gimme size.
CD: *sighs* Very well. You now have size and strength. Satisfied?
GA: Nuh uh. Gimme speed.
CD: Look. You can’t just take all the benefits. You have to leave some for the rest! There’s a line forming behind you, you know.
(GA slowly turns around, the assortment of beavers and chipmunks suddenly find the grass at their feet very interesting.)
GA: Don’t care. Gimme speed.
CD: I can’t! It’s just not feasible. You’re over half a ton! Each! You’d look ridiculous moving anything over 20 miles an hour!
GA: Don’t care. It’ll be funny. Gimme speed.
CD: You know what? Take it. Just take it. Would you please go?
GA: Nuh uh. Gimme Seals.
CD: -- What?
GA: I’m hungry. Gimme Seals.
CD: There aren’t any seals for thousands of miles! They live in the Arctic.
GA: Don’t care. Gimme the Arctic.
CD: HAH! Good luck. You’re covered in brown fur! The seals would spot you from a mile away.
GA: Huh. Gimme white fur.
CD: But--
GA: Gimme white fur.
CD: All of you?
GA: Nuh uh. Just the ones hungry for seals.
CD: There. Done. Please go away!
GA: Nuh-uh. Gimme disarming cuteness.
CD: What?
GA: Gimme disarming cuteness.
CD: You’re a BEAR. You’re huge, you could knock down a tree without breaking a sweat. There’s no way you could pull off being adorable.
GA: Sure I can. We’ll call ‘em Pandas.
CD: *blinks* This is ridiculous. I’m going back to my peas.
(Grizzly Adams proceeds to eat the booth.)

See? Greedy bastards, the lot of ‘em. And don’t let that hibernation thing fool you, okay? It’s just a ruse. Some of ‘em don’t even do it.

I think we’ve been wise, not to employ Bears in the workplace. I mean, their typing is atrocious! And not for nothing, they’re kinda pudgy. Or, at least they would be, if it weren’t all solid freaking muscle. Try squeezing past one of ‘em in the hallway? Good luck.

We had a guy at the office one time, named Wells. The guy hired a Grizzly Bear for his personal assistant. That lazy sack of fur didn’t do one scrap of work, spent all day on the phone making personal calls, and at the end of his first week, the Grizzly ripped Wells’s arm off. I don’t think I need to tell you that someone got escorted to the door that evening, boy howdy.

Bears. Steer clear, folks.