Those of you who watch the Colbert Report know that Stephen Colbert hates bears. (Hmm … Col-behrr hates bears … Col-bear? Anyway.) He had a whole segment a few nights ago about the Chief Bear Handler or whatever for the Bronx Zoo, and how this guy must be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome as he talks about being friends with 700 pound killing machines. Et cetera. Et cetera. That in mind, I am proud to present to you drumroll …
Stephen Colbert’s Goldilocks and the Three Un-American Vicious Instruments of Death Bears.
Once upon a time, covert Federal agent [del]Valerie Plame[/del] codename Gold E. Locks was stealthily moving through the forests of Montana. She had received a hot tip about the location of a new terrorist cell from a devastatingly handsome news commentary show host. Finally she spotted it - a quaint little cottage (the latest thing in terrorist hideouts). After securing the perimeter, she determined that the cottage was empty. She expertly picked the retinal and voice scan door lock, and slid inside. Taking photos left and right with her super secret spy camera, she examined the interior of the cottage. Nicely decorated in a rustice style with hardwood floors and chiffon curtains, and - shock and horror - absolutely filled with knick-knacks and tchotchkes from the Sweetwater Flea Market! (recently pegged as a likely terrorist target by the National Asset Database. GO NAD!) Will these bears stop at nothing!?
Slinking into the kitchen like a slinking thing, Gold E. Locks began to examine if a vicious terrorist bear is what he eats. She found there, sitting on the kitchen table as innocent as you please, three bowls of what appeared to be porridge. Our heroic heroine was not so easily fooled, however. She whipped out her trusty Chem-O-Sensor and conducted a full spectroscopic analysis of the porridge. To her surprise, it was actually porridge! Having skipped breakfast that morning to get an early start on the mission, she decided that she deserved the food more than they did anyway. Unfortunately, the first bowl she tried was booby trapped with some sort of thermal energy device, and the second one was booby trapped with ice. The third one, however, didn’t last long. Federal agents need their nourishment.
Having robbed the evil bears of their morning repast, Gold E. Locks knew it was time to get down to business. She quickly discovered what she had come here for - the control room, where the bears were planning their maniacal plans and scheming their diabolical schemes. She tried the first of the three control chairs, and found its workstation was fixed on Northeast Asia. “This one is too Korean,” she said. She tried the next one, only to discover it was fixed on the Middle East. “This one is too Iraqi,” she said. Finally, the last one was fixed on Washington, D.C. - their target! But just as she was about to download the information, the system discovered her intrusion and she had to quickly log out and leave the control room. These bears knew what they were doing.
She began to feel tired. Was there – was there something in that porridge that slipped by her scan? She could barely keep her eyes open. She headed upstairs to make her escape through a window. She went for the one in their barracks, but as she was heading for it she lost consciousness and fell onto a bed. Fortunately it was made of rock. That woke her up right quick. She continued, but fell again onto another bed. It was made of cats! She wasted no time moving on, but fell into a third bed, just like her own, and was asleep in seconds.
Then, disaster. Three of the bears returned! They went into the kitchen. “Someone’s been eating our sleep medication,” one of them growled. They went into the control room. “Someone’s been hacking into our system,” another grizzled. Then they went upstairs. “INTRUDER ALERT!” came the cry. Gold E. Locks was instantly awakened - and surrounded. “I’m going to kill you,” said the biggest bear. “I’m going to rip your limbs off until you tell me all the US government secrets you know and scream for mercy. Hahahah!”
“HELP!” Gold E. Locks cried. Fortunately, that was the prearranged signal for the backup SWAT teams to burst into the building and secure the premises. The bears were locked up and sent to Gitmo, their plans foiled. And everyone lived happily ever after.
THE END.
Now, no insult is meant towards swampus, who along with Sean will hopefully not find it unbearable.
Everyone will note that agent Gold E. Locks did not find the beer and cookie (or, just for Bobbio, cockie) stash. We bears are expert at hiding the really important stuff.