THE BEAR AND I Part 2:
RETURN OF THE Q!
February 28, 2013
The story thus far- While watching Seth McFarlane’s TED (a film about what-if a teddy bear really came to life) Chainsaw reflects fondly back to his own stuffed sidekick, this being a yellow bear he rescued from a thrift store stuffie bin named John Q. respectively. The two spent years together sharing many an adventure. However, the past two years John has spent dormant on the makeshift living room mantle. The movie stirred Chainsaw’s heart (what passes for one) and he turned to his dear inanimate friend, who in turn turned on him and lunged from his perch to attack...that’s where we are now.
Using ninja like reflexes I block the initial attack...with my face. John latches on wailing like a banshee “Aieweeee!” or perhaps a toddler on crack. He pummels into me with several blows. Being hit by a stuffie has the similar feel to being slapped with empty boxing gloves — it does no serious damage. Knowing this John goes for the eyes.
The thought of It’s all fun and games till someone losses an eye and then it’s “Hey free ball!” strikes me and laughter follows. This only enrages my Playskool assailant even more (cue another toddler on crack banshee wail). He pushes off my face with a double stuffed footed kick to the jaw; launching himself into an amazingly graceful back flip. I’m actually entranced in watching while stumbling backwards, falling into and overturning a chair. The floor breaks my fall and all is silent...except for that odd scraping noise. It sounds almost like the antique metal floor lamp in the corner being rocked and scooched...this way. The popping sound of a bulb and blow to the side of my head confirm that it was indeed the lamp...which is now on top of me. Enough of this, I refuse to have my ass handed to my by a stuffed bear (though to be honest he’s doing an astounding job). On my feet I yank the chainsaw off the wall...doesn’t everyone decorate with power tools? Before I can pull the cord there is an audible “click-chanck”; sounds just like the hammer being pulled back on a shotgun. Oh hell, the 2nd Amendment’s “right to bear arms” has turned into the “right to arm bears!”
Turning and simultaneously pulling the saw cord and nothing happens...crap. Outta gas. Likewise there is a empty click when John pulls the trigger — cwap no bullwets! There is a momentary pause as we look at each other affectionately. Then we begin to beat the ever-loving s*** out of each other with the stalled saw and empty gun.
Twenty-five minutes later: We sit opposite each other in the destroyed living room remains. John’s little face is downcast as he toddles slowly over and hugs my arm. “I’m sowwy, for da boos boos!” he says, voice trembling. Returning the gesture I let him talk.
He recalled all the fun we used to have. Fondly recanting how the last time he was truly “alive” was at my wedding. How happy he was that I had finally found an end to loneliness that had consumed so many years. That there indeed was now someone to fill the void in my life he had once filled. Deep within his stuffing he knew that his purpose had been fulfilled and our time has drawn to a close. Yet he denied the oblivion of nonexistence by mine own will. “I know I tan’t be you’we onwe fwiend and that you hab a new fun adventuwe life wif her but...” (little tears) “I just want to be pawt of it!”
I couldn’t help but smile as I picked up the little yellow guy and carried him to the kitchen for band-aids and Twinkies. “No worries,” I said, “she’s got three dogs and two fish, I think me bringing you along for the ride is only fair.” He sighed contently as he stuffed the yellow crème filled cake into his smiling mouth.
In closing: If you’ve read this and last week’s article with a closed mind and lack of psychological metaphor then you may find it ridiculous. I implore you to open your intellect and read them again, you’ll be surprised at how un-ridiculous it really is.
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Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused. See ya.