The Bear

The bear looked around the forest. Not for the first time he wondered why he was wearing the coat and hat, but he was a stubborn bear who didn’t like change. He tugged the hat off his head, inside the sandwiches still sat. He wiped his brow with the back of his paw and continued to walk.

He had been hunting for days, and so far he had not found a sign. The bear was loosing patience with the hunt and wanted to go home and put his boot up the agent who gave him the bad information. Just as he was turning back, a yellow piece of cloth caught his eye. The bear walked slowly up to the branch and tugged the piece of cloth free from the thorn. Under close inspection he saw that the yellow cloth hard thin black stitches running threw it. He was on the right path.
“Ah the game is a foot.”

The bear opened his brown case. He took out the old clot 45 inside, and flicked it open. Inside where six bullets in the chambers. Fully loaded. From behind him there is a crack as a twig brakes. The bear whirled round, but its too late. A white red and yellow blur is upon him in no time. It knocked the gun our of his paw and delivers a solid haymaker to the side of his head. The bear is knocked back, his hat fell from his head and his marmalade sandwiches scatter on the grass.  He turned facing him is another bear, but this one is tall and white, he wears yellow trousers with black stitches with a matching scarf and a red jumper, it is faded and frayed. He speaks.
“So they sent you my old friend?”
“ Of course, who did you think they would send for wet work?”

The white bear circled, he looked and alone.
“I just want to be remembered.”
“You are, you don’t want to be remembered for these murders, taking out Igglepiggle has put you on a lot of peoples radars. We can not have you there my friend.”
“My friend wouldn’t come to kill me”
The white bear pounced, his claw slashing. The bear moved to the side and flicked open his blue duffle coat, his paw when it comes out has a sharp knuckle knife attached. The white bear kicked out hard but the bear rolled underneath. He pushed the knuckle knife hard upward into the white bears leg. The bear rolled away, the white bear staggered. Blood rushed from his leg, the artery had been severed. The white bear fell to the floor. The bear walked slowly to his hat and sandwiches. He sat down and opened the wrapping, the sticky marmalade oozes out of the bread.
“I’m sorry Rupert Bear, you where one of the best of us.”
He begins to munch on his sandwiches as he sits in a clearing in the forest alone.