The Great Outdoors Page #3

- Sorry. Sorry.

I think I have to, er, tell you this story.

A story that might save your lives

up here in the woods.

I know the Heimlich maneuver.

No. This is a...

a bear story.

A true bear story.

Connie and I honeymooned

at this very lake.

Big spender!

- We stayed at my uncle's cabin.

- Uncle George?

Yeah. That's right.

One night

we were getting ready for bed

and we heard this terrible noise

out by the trash cans.

You remember? And, er...

I went downstairs to check it out,

looked out the window...

and there...

was the biggest,

baddest bear in the north woods.

- Sure, Dad.

- No, it's true. It's true.

This bear was over eight feet high.

With big, white teeth.

Fangs...

stained pink...

from whatever it killed

before it got to our cabin.

It was frightening.

Frightening.

- The paws on this thing were immense.

- Urgh.

With big, black claws.

Razor sharp...

like Freddy Krueger.

Only worse, worse.

This wasn't a movie.

This was happening right in front of me.

And all that separated me

from that bear...

was a pane of glass.

Honey, maybe we shouldn't

tell this story...

- It's fine.

- I'm thinking about nightmares.

No, no. They have to hear this.

Like I say,

it might save their life one day.

Now, I saw that bear. It saw me.

And it was hungry.

Hungry for blood!

Human blood.

You see, once a bear gets a taste

for blood...

it craves it.

It needs it.

It will do anything it can to get it.

That bear had become...

a man-eater!

Our eyes locked. My heart was pumping.

Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump.

I ran into the living room,

grabbed the shotgun off the mantle,

turned around, and there was that bear

right in the window.

Its breath was fogging up the glass.

And suddenly,

it let out this god-awful roar.

It started smashing the walls.

Pots and pans started rattling,

the walls shimmering

and the floorboards lifting.

I knew then that it was either the bear

or your mom and I.

So I raised the rifle,

I took aim and I fired.

- You wasted her?

- No, Benny.

- A shotgun's not going to kill that.

- What happened?

The buckshot shaved the hair

clean off the top of its head.

It ran off. We never saw it again.

I hear from my uncle now and then...

and he'd tell us about

the baldheaded killer bear in the area.

The baldheaded killer bear...

of Clare County.

- Is she still around?

- Oh! No, no. That bear's gone.

Well, she may be out there.

Crazy, bloodthirsty as ever.

So when you go to bed tonight...

if you hear a noise...

whatever you do...

don't look out the window.

Because it might be a bear!

Christ! I'm half-drunk here, Chet!

- Are you trying to give me nightmares?

- Come on.

I can't believe you, Dad!

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