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literature

The Long, Cold Tale of Bear Hugger - Part 1

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By Goodbye18000   |   Watch
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Published: April 25, 2012
Sit down, child. It is time for me to tell you the tragic and melancholic story of my childhood.

My story starts before I was born. My father was a priest named John, which means "God Is Gracious," despite him being anything but. At the age of 26, he begot me with a 14 year old prostitute from Japan named only "Black Kiko". Her true name, to this day, is a mystery to our entire family.
I know nothing of my life before 6, as I was but a wee lad living a normal life, but at the age of 7, everything changed.
My father, now a womanizing alcoholic, decided to kill my mother. Why? Well, he was a priest, as you know, and for a priest to be the husband of a 14 year old Japanese prostitute would be a rather… interesting career choice. So, my mentally-unstable father and I lived together for but a couple weeks before he started the chain of events that changed my life.

It was May 26th, I remember it like it was but a day ago. He came up to me, his large, bulbous nose jiggling as he heartily laughed at me, but no, these laughs were not out of joy, but of disdain. He hated he, he blamed me for everything. That day, I broke one of his favourite Red Merlot bottles that rested on top of the fridge. He told me that children like I should be banished. I told him he wouldn't dare.

That night, I was sent on a train to Berlin, Belgium, a small town, poseur-ish in nature. With a population of 75, I should have known everyone. Sadly, this town was full of nothing but snobby artisans, people who had no time for a homeless, broke 7 year old. However, one day, a stranger drifted into town that was the golden link in my chain of life.

This man was large, and incredibly hairy. His beard was a rats nest, and his body could have been mistaken for a member of the Sasquatch species in hiding. While I was resting in my cardboard box one night, watching the rats eat the lining of my shoes, he approached me. He muttered, in his husky voice with a thick Russian accent, "Have you heard the news?"
"No," I replied "I am but a homeless child, sir. I can't afford the newspaper."
His eyes turned dark. His body vibrated, like he was filled with anger! What did he do?
He removed his pants. Hanging before me was his scrotum.

And that was it. He stood there, bollocks hanging, and just… waited. His scrotum was, however, a thing of beauty. It was freshly waxed, and let off a warm glow, a reflection of the moonlight.
Every night afterwards, he would do the same thing. In the winter, his scrotum-light gave me warmth.  He never did anything different, he'd just ask me for the news and remove his trousers.
His name was 'Bear Hugger'.
Every day for 5 years. Every night, standing there, giving me warmth, light… and hope.
As for food, you may be wondering, I ate snow and leftover remains of the skin that shed off of his scrotum.

But, one day, when I was 12, something changed. He came to me, and asked me for the news as usual. I asked "Is it your scrotum, Bear Hugger?"
A sad look came across his face. His eyes, no longer black with anger, were solemn and sincere.
"My son," His voice was no longer Russian, but proper British.
"My name is Bear Hugger. That, you know. But what you don't know is that I am actually a Millionaire. I decided to find an heir, as I cannot bear children with my Genetically-Modified Glowing Scrotum. You were the only child to gaze upon my scrotum and not do anything to it. You fulfilled my life's purpose… to use my scrotum as a tool of justice.
Sadly, I am ending my life today, as the Government of Latveria has put out a warrant for me. The Doombots will get me. I leave my entire fortune, my summer home, and my giant transforming robot to you."
"…"
I was silent.
He then took out a pocket flamethrower from his back pocket.
"End me, please." He said, closing his eyes.
I took it from him, and lit him ablaze. His entire body ended in a flash of light. Nothing but ashes and a hunting knife remained.
To pay tribute to the fallen Soldier, I took the knife and shoved it into my upper right thigh. I plunged it in and removed a VHS sized chunk of flesh from my leg. It was so cold that no pain came to me. I took the ashes and put it into my leg cavity. Beside me was a dead rat, which I shaved with a bone from a chicken thrown out and twined into a rope which I sewed the meat back in with using the bone as the needle.
On his knife was an inscription. "The largest house in Prague. The Bear Hugger House".  
And so I began the walk.
900 km across a European landscape wasn't hard. I slept in various barns, empty houses and Tauntaun corpses that I used the knife, now my best and only friend, to cut open and sleep in. For food, I ate various animals, small children and leftover garbage from the Neo-Nazi Seahorses that patrol the coastlines.

Eventually, I came upon Prague. I'd never seen a big city before, so the lights startled me the first time I saw them. In the center of town was a mountain, huge and majestic, and at its peak, the biggest house I've ever seen.

My house.

As I opened the door, I was greeted by an army of robotic maids and butlers. The maids were dressed like traditional Japanese girls, but with huge eyes. I had seen something like them in my travels… I snuck into a house of a middle aged man who never left his basement. He was watching something… what did he call it? I think it was a …. "Hentai"? Something like that. Strange man he was. His days consisted of playing a television entertainment system he called "CoD" and watching colorful ponies prance around and sing songs, as he referred to himself as a "brony". Strange, strange fellow.

The male butlers all had a nameplate that read "Ricky Gervais" on it. I never understood the title… maybe it was Bear Hugger's true name?

That night, the RickyGervais-Bot asked me what I wanted to eat. For once, I had a choice as to what I could ingest, however, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my old life style so immediately. So I ordered Scrotum-Shavings and Snow, along with a cup of rat urine to drink. It was the best meal I ever had.

For the next couple months, nothing happened. I discovered a box, similar to the one the middle-aged man played. I turned it on, and discovered it can show me images from anywhere I want. Not only that, I could put in disks and play them whenever I want! Bear Hugger left me a collection of disks labelled as "The Twilight Saga".  It was rather boring, and very unrealistic.
In the garage was a giant robot. It was pure red, and had a pair of sunglasses on its front. It could fly, and used drills to drill things. I called it "Gurren Laggan," as my cat jumped on the keyboard of my computer as I was writing the bumper sticker for it. I liked it.

For a year, I watched the movies, rode Laggan, and… that was it. Until one day, the door bell rang. One of my robot maids named Mitsuki answered it. Nobody had rung it before, as nobody really cared about us. At the door was a man in a priests robe, tattered, and had a Chihuahua humping his leg. It was … daddy!
"Can I have some money?" he asked.
"No." I replied, and slammed the door.

Every day for the next 5 years, he would come and beg for money. Eventually, he stopped walking away, and just stood there in perpetual begging. He finally died of hunger. I felt no remorse whatsoever, as I did to him what he did to me. It was justice, just like Bear Hugger's scrotum.
I took out Gurren Laggan and fried father's body into ashes. I decided to put them next to Bear Hugger's remains in my thigh. I didn't know why, as he didn't love me, but… I felt like I should. Put him beside the person who was more of my father than he was, as a way of showing him the man he could have been.

Weeks passed, nothing happened. I discovered a new set of disks in the backboard of my huge bed. These videos, entitled "Big Butt Booty Basher's 7" was… interesting, to say the least. They had no plot, just lots of naked wrestling. They brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of Bear Hugger…

One day, however, I was awoken by a familiar noise… a noise that was the last memory of my father. The door bell… the sound of a nostalgic hatred.
Upon opening the door, I gasped, as for a second I swore it was Bear Hugger … but nay, it was a woman, as a large pair of breasts were shoved into my face right after I let out said gasp.  She looked exactly like Bear Hugger, the beard, the hairy arms and legs, except for the fact that she wore a red, striped dress and carried a purse.
It was… a hug. A warm, hairy embrace by a woman with a beard. A hug that felt… pure. Real. Like family.
"Son…" she sounded dear and kind, yet gruff. Like David Hayter on helium. "The name of Bear Hugger is only a title passed on through the lineage of our family. As such, you should be the new one… however, you have yet to do something to prove yourself. One thing… do you choose to accept it?"
She held out a pill in either giant man hand. A blue pill and a red pill.
"This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you get knocked out, and I give you a mission. Which do you chose?"
My life at this point was pretty boring. Nothing but watching those DVD's, walking around the house, sleeping and eating scrotum shavings. To be honest, it was really boring. I needed a vacation, I craved something new.
So I took the Red Pill. And everything went dark.


Cold… so much cold…. everything around me, cold. My eye lids were frozen shut… my hands were stiff and felt as if there were just mere wooden copies. My legs were gone… not really, but they felt so. As I used my frozen, bony fingers to pry my eye lids apart, all I saw was white… and a sign amidst it. It read… "Welcome to Canmore, Alberta".  

As I woke up, I noticed I was stark naked. Nothing on me… or so it seemed. I found taped to my back a note, written in cursive. It said
"To become a Bear Hugger, you must do so. Find a bear, and hug it. Once you are covered in the fur of the Almighty Almighter, you may become Bear Hugger yourself."
And so off I went.


The world she left me in was dark, cold, wet and white. Surrounding me were trees, tall, green, and hard, much like Bear Hugger's knob. It was kinda sad, seeing all of them alone, much like me, but I persevered in my looking for a bear.
Miles and miles I walked, and nothing but trees and the occasional Brent Butt. I slept in a cave for the night, as I was tired, my feet were calloused and worn, and penis being bitten by a wild Ryan Nugent-Hopkins. It hurt, so I brushed him off. I found a rock to sleep on, and I fell and slumbered.  
When I woke up, I saw I wasn't sleeping on a rock, but rather a bear's armor!
"Young one… why do you not wear armor?" muttered the bear inside said armor. He was brown, and had large ears and eyes.
"You see sir," I told him, "I have a mission. Its to…"
I hesitated, as I did now know if it were to offend him or not.
"Spit it out boy. A strong tongue is a mark of a great man… or lover." He smirked.

"I need to hug a bear."

"I see. … now, lets get down to this quickly then."
He stood on his hind paws, his large Magitek armor whirring and glowing. He held out his paws…
And then we collided. His warm fur covered me in heartwarming embrace, his heart against my face, the beating of it making my face flustered and warm. We hugged, tighter and tighter, and tighter… until II hugged to strong. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I killed him. I broke his back, armor and all. But that didn't stop me. I hugged that corpse until it the sun went down and came up again. When I finally let go… I realized he was cold and stopped moving.
Sadness overcame me… not due to his death, but due to the fact that I had nothing to burn him into ashes and place him into my personal memory thigh with. Instead, I grabbed my knife, which I had shoved up my buttocks ever since I got it,  and cut slices of his fur off. I made a patchwork pair of pants, shirt and hat. I descended the mountainous mountain area to an awaiting helicopter with Bear Hugger's mother sitting inside, bag and fur in tow. I was still a mile away, but I could hear her booming voice.
"How did it go?" she asked me, obviously not in vision.
"…"
"Is… is that… it looks like my …. son?"
I walked into view, and I saw her taken aback.
As I walked up to her helicopter, I had one thing on my mind. One phrase that was given to me as a child which shaped me into the man I am today. I asked her…
"Have you heard the news?"

The helicopter ride back was a silent one. She was ecstatic but silent. I was sad, to be honest. The bear, whom I decided to name Dan, won't be forgotten for a long, long time. Finally, right above my house, I asked her a question.
"If Bear Hugger is but a title, what was your son's name?"
"… it was… Bruce Wayne."
© 2012 - 2019 Goodbye18000
Not to be confused with the Bear Hugger from Super Punch-Out!!
Easily my Magnum Opus, this is a story I've worked on for a long, long time. It all came to me one night, I was REALLY tired and my friend asked me to tell him a story. This is that story.
Comments3
anonymous's avatar
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cranberryplains's avatar
Fantastic. I suspect this is autobiographical.

But really, it's great. I burst into laughter at least a few dozen times. The references were so beautiful, it really is your Magnum Opus.

I am seriously considering putting this work of art on to Facebook. The problem, is that I think that my friends may think I have mental problems.
Goodbye18000's avatar
No no.
You should. Spread the word of Bear Hugger. Its a tale that has to be spread.
Xander-Ketsu's avatar
Beautiful. All that needs to be said.