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The Bear Saga: Part II |
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Later that night, after I'd yelled at him for trying to sell drugs to my other bears, I went out to see a movie. This is what I almost tripped over when I came back home. On further inspection, I found that he'd fallen on top of another empty wine bottle, and the rest of the six pack was in the sink, empty. I found the bottle caps thrown randomly about the house. I can only hope he wasn't using my cats for target practice. |
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Just as I was falling asleep much later that night (it took me longer than expected to clean up his mess), I heard my mother scream from the kitchen. I raced downstairs, my first thought being that she saw a mouse in the kitchen or a big spider fell on her. No such luck. The bear, in a drunken stupor, had turned on the oven and was attempting to asfixiate himself on the fumes. He was either too drunk or too stupid (or both) to realize we have an electric stove. My mother and I struggled to pull him away from the stove before he burnt himself. I had to empty out my closet and shut him in there, with a chair propped against the door, to keep him safe that night. All the while I kept thinking about how my friend would react to her bear's colorful past. |
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Contents of this page copyright 2005 Pamela C. Prioli. |
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