I’m writing this from what seems to be a box. Eh, it’s a computer. I’m sitting at a computer and now I have to come up with a short story that will win the hearts of its readers.
Yeah, so it was 1973. Yeah, 1973, everyone loves the 70s. This will work. No, it was 2017. Yeah, 2017. Cool. We got the year out of the way.
On a dark summer night in 2017, it was dark like most nights are, and I was fishing. Yeah, fishing. OK, I got it, yeah, I was fishing and there was a bear. A bear. I caught a fucking bear.
Wait, no. That isn’t likely… like at all. I’m going to go ahead and say that catching a bear with a fishing pole is extremely unlikely.
So… 2017? Fishing? Mom? No, go away, Mom. God dammit, everything just becomes Freudian after a while. I can’t even look at my mom anymore thanks to Freud.
Alright, it was 2017 and my mom and I were fishing with my friend Doug the Bear. Doug is a gay man, he’s a bear, ya know, the hairy one. Now, Doug began to confide in me, telling me about how he used to date a man who liked to dress up as a spider during sex. I always thought that this information was something that I did not need to know, and to me, the whole thing seemed kind of like a lie blanketed warmly underneath a mask of absurdity in order to write an entertaining essay for a publication that I can’t name, but that’s not the point here.
I’m no longer interested in this story.
Doug the Bear is an actual bear? A bear who walks around searching for salmon? See, again, I’m not too excited to write about salmon or bears.
Bears? Beers? Beards? Bearded bears?
From Doug the Bear with Love
It wasn’t 2017, it wasn’t 1973, it wasn’t me creatively introducing a subpar essay by being as meta as possible. In the year 1974 on a WINTER AFTERNOON, Douglass Fern-Shape Mc’Man? No, Doug the Bear, shaped like a fern, in all of his glory, stuck to his guns, or his guns stuck to him? He glued guns all over his body in hopes of protecting himself from some lazily named bad guy that I haven’t came up with yet. “My name is Doug! My name is Doug! My name is Doug!” he chants to himself in the mirror for confidence. He needs this confidence, he is about ask the most important question of his life. He is about to ask for Lisa Maria’s hand in marriage. At this point in the story Doug is no longer a gay man… he’s an actual bear.
So, Doug, with guns glued all over his body, who is an actual bear and NOT a gay man, starts to chant. As he chants his own name he is startled by a loud crash that occurs behind him. It was Lisa. Lisa has always been clumsy and this annoying bitch knocked over Doug’s unicycle.
Now, readers, I’ve just been informed by my own brain that Doug is a circus bear. Doug hates his job, hates his kids (who he never sees, out of spite and because the court won’t allow it, but that’s another made up story that I’ll write eventually).
Scared by the crashing, Doug quickly turns around and yells, “GOD DAMMIT THAT’S MY LUCKY FUCKING ONE WHEELED BIKE YOU BITCH AND I—”
Realizing who he’s yelling at, Doug continues, “And I—will ask you for your hand in marriage by the end of the night?”
Doug the Bear isn’t very smooth.
“No you won’t, I don’t love you, and I know what you did to your kids,” said Lisa
“What is it that I did?” said Doug
“Oh, don’t play Doug, Doug,” said Lisa
“I’m not playing Doug, Lisa… I am Doug.” replied Doug.
“You know what you did, you fucking loser. It was when you were with Kitty, you remember Kitty, right?” asked Lisa.
“Of course I remember Kitty.” replied Doug. “I could never forget an ass like that.”
Lisa replies angrily, “SO YOU SHOULD REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR OWN FAMILY! WHAT YOU DID! YOU TORE THEM APART!”
“….Alright, I admit… that ass was fat. And I tore that ass apart,” said Doug.
“Fuck you. I’m leaving. Men are pigs. I hate you, Doug,” said Lisa
“I WAS GOING TO MARRY YOU, YOU BITCH. COME BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW,” shouted Doug.
“I’ll never come back,” said Lisa.
Lisa walked out of Doug’s trailer, leaving Douglas the Bear alone with his thoughts.
As the writer and narrator, I kind of feel sorry for Doug. Neither him, you, nor I knows exactly what will happen to him after this whole Lisa thing, but it might be entertaining. Honestly, I forgot, until right now, that Doug still has guns glued all over his body. I don’t know why he decided to glue them there because removing them would only add to the pain that he already feels, ya know, with Lisa leaving. Emotional pain. He was going to marry her. She’s a bitch anyway. Yeah, a real bitch. Doug deserves better. Doug deserves a woman with a fatter ass.
“Yeah, I do.” said Doug, to me, the narrator.
Well hi, Doug.
“Hey,” Doug replies.
What do you think is going to happen next?
“I’m not really sure, man. I think I’ll probably try to get Lisa back, she’ll say no, I’ll be sad for a few months, start doing CrossFit, join a cult, get kicked out, try to get my life back in order, and eventually find another woman to settle down with,” said Doug.
Well, It seems like you got it all figured out. I’m glad we had this talk.
“Me too, Chris.” said Doug.
As Doug sits on his futon, sad, lonely, and suicidal, he’s only thinking about Lisa… and suicide, because he’s also very suicidal. I’d really hate to ruin it for you guys, but he won’t kill himself. He won’t do it. He won’t do it because he is a pussy. Doug the Bear is a pussy.
A few months later Douglas the Bear is new and improved. He started doing CrossFit, he looks good. I mean, real good. Doug is most likely chiseled as shit and probably has abs by now, but I also have no idea because of all the hair that’s on his body. Last I heard he started moisturizing his fur, but I haven’t spoken to him in a while. I miss him.
Sometimes I like to think of all of the fun times we had while I type bullshit stories. I remember a time when he and I broke the 4th wall in this very story. That was so cool. I miss him dearly. We might have been the first to ever do it, but I’m also unsure of that because I don’t read too much… Wait. I just got an email from Doug. I just got an email from DOUGLAS! DOUGLAS! MOTHER FUCKING DOUGLAS!
I’ll post it soon. I’m trying to figure out how to copy and paste from my email.
Got it. Here it is:
Hey, Chris. It’s me. Doug. Doug the Bear.
“My name is Doug! My name is Doug! My name is Doug!”
LOL Remember that? We’ve had some good times! I know you’re writing a short story right now and I really hope that is going well. I’ve been doing CrossFit for about 3 months now and yes, underneath all of this hair I AM in fact chiseled as shit and do have abs.
Thank you for thinking about me,
From Doug the Bear With Love
P.S. I’m still really proud of that 4th wall break we did earlier in the story. ;P
Gosh, it’s just so nice to hear from him. Although he didn’t mention the gun/hair thing. I’ve been wondering about that.
Anyway, I’ll leave you with this. I’ve been thinking, well hoping that this is something worth reading and—
“Hey, don’t go, man. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” said, Doug
Doug! I’m so happy to hear from you again!
“Of course, man. You know what, bro? Lisa Maria was a bitch with no ass anyway” said Doug.
Yeah. I had the feeling. Hey, Doug. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened with you and your kids?
“Oh, it’s nothing.” said Doug.
No, you can tell me. You can trust me.
“If it’s all the same to you I’d rather not speak about this” replied Doug.
Doug… it’s me… Chris… you can talk to me.
“Ok, fine…” Doug begins to share reluctantly. “So… It was 1973 and I was fishing with my mom and my friend Doug the Bear. Ya see, Doug the Bear is a gay man. Ya, know. The hairy one. He’s not an actual bear. Well, that night we were fishing and… well… We caught these kids. They were a lot to reel up, I didn’t think I was strong enough to pull these water logged humans out of the water, it’s hard enough to stand on two legs when you’re a bear-” said Doug, but only to be interrupted by me, the narrator.
I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a gay friend named Doug the Bear? Isn’t your name Doug the Bear? Also, I understand how callbacks in comedy work… so if this is a fake story, I need you to tell me right now.
“Ugh, there’s something I need to tell you… You are Doug the Bear. We’re all Doug the bear. “My name is Doug. My name is Doug! MY NAME IS DOUG MY NAME IS DOUG,” Doug replies convincingly.
Oh, cut the shit, Doug. I’ve seen Fight Club.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I’ll tell you what really happened.”
Ok, go on.
“It was 1972 and my children and I were fishing with my mother and my friend Dave the Duck. Now, Dave has, well, he had a drinking problem. We all knew this well before we even planned this fishing trip. We just, ya know, we just hoped for the best because Dave doesn’t get out much and we wanted to get him out of his house. So, as I was talking to my mother, David turns to me and says “I killed your children”. At first, I didn’t believe him. I thought he was full of shit. Well, I knew his was full of shit… and… and he was full of shit. My kids were fine, ya see, all the booze abuse gave Dave a real dark sense of humor. Hey, I mean, don’t we all have a dark sense of humor at our lowest moments?” replied Doug.
Get to the point, Doug.
Doug continued, “Yeah, ok, Well, I started laughing so hard that I fell, I fell backwards and tripped over my own mother. This, well, this trip caused my mom to drop her fishing pole, which shifted the line and wiggled around both of my children’s neck’s and… and… and well, they strangled to death. I get blamed for this, but it was Dave. I swear. It was Dave. I… I… I just want to see my kids again, Chris.”
Doug, I’m so sorry
“Don’t be, I killed them both. Bears eat other bears, Chris. It’s a fact. We’re cannibals,” said Doug.