Sunday, September 26, 2010

Grizzly Food

Two Grizzly bears on a national forest were hard up for food one year. After a too-cold Winter and a too-hot Spring, there was very little to eat. What there was was dried up and frizzled.

So, the older, more grizzled bear Sam, said to his younger companion Roger one day, “You know what? I’m so damned hungry I think I’m gonna eat me a tourist.”

“You can’t do that!” protested Roger. “Don’t you remember that warning Smokey gave us?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re not supposed to eat the tourists ‘cause if we do they’ll declare us ‘problem bears’ and hunt us down and shoot us like, well . . . . , bears. But, I’m a-telling you Roger, if we don’t start snacking on some  tourists pretty soon we’re gonna starve to death. Hell, that’s a worse way to die than getting shot.”

“Guess you’re right about that.” said Roger. “So, what do we do to catch us a tourist? I’ve never done that before.”

“Me neither, but it’s simple,” said Sam. “We just hide behind some rock beside a hiking trail and when we see a tourist coming by alone, why we just grab him and run off in the forest with him and fix him and eat him where no one will notice. Why don’t you go over and wait by the Upper Trail and I’ll take the Lower? We’ll meet again tonight to see how we did.”

“Roger that.” said Roger.

Later that evening when they met to compare notes Sam asked Roger, “So, how’d you do today?”

“Pretty good I guess.” Roger replied. “I caught me a Mexican. Holy Cow!  Was he all juicy and spicy! He tasted great once I got by that hot chili pepper zing. But, he was pretty buttery too so I’m worried about my cholesterol now. How’d you do?”

“Sheesh!” said Sam. “I’m gonna have to do better than I did today or I’m gonna starve completely to death anyway! I screwed up and caught me a Norwegian.”

“So, what’s wrong with Norwegians?” asked Roger.

“You don’t know? They’re mostly gnarly twisted gristle and not tasty at all, even on a good day. They eat too much fish and rotten cheese and downright stink inside.” said Sam disgustedly. “Everybody knows that. But, you can’t tell from the outside. My Norwegian must have eaten some of that awful, rotten Lutefisk too. Once I finally got all his stinky parts and bad pieces cleaned out, I ended up with only a couple handfuls of edible stuff. I tell you right now Roger, nobody can live on Norwegians! Let’s hope I can do better tomorrow.”

The next evening they met again. Sam said, “Well, I did a lot better today, thank goodness. I caught me one of those monks from over at the monastery. He was delicious, filling and fully satisfying.”

“Gosh Sam,” said Roger. “I caught me one of those monks too, but I could hardly eat the damned guy, tasted awful. I had to choke him down.”

“How’d you fix him?” asked Sam.

“Boiled him of course, like I always do.”

“Well, there’s your damned problem right there! Don’t you ever learn? Those kind of monks are friars!” laughed Sam as Roger hung his head.

They met again next evening. Roger was grinning and Sam was out of sorts.

“Man, this was the best day so far!” grinned Roger.

“I probably don’t even want to hear about it,” snarled Sam. “but, go ahead and tell me if you must.”

“Yeah, well, I really lucked up and caught me a Democrat.” chortled Roger. “Man, was he sweet and succulent. He hardly even hollered when I grabbed him. He was oozing with all this sweet syrupy stuff and smelled good too. I’m so full of sweet, environmentally friendly wholesome food I gotta take a nap. How’d you do yourself?

“Hell, wouldn’t you just believe the damned luck?” Sam snarled. “You go out and catch yourself a nice fat Democrat and all I got was this knotty, shitty, stinking damned Republican. Once I got all the shit cleaned out of him there was nothing left but his teeth, his gold cross and his wallet. He was ten times worse than a Norwegian! Damn! Do ya think maybe he coulda been a freaking Norwegian Republican?

“I tell ya what Roger, tomorrow me and you are gonna switch trails!”

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