Polar Bears

This is a post I've used as a writing sample a few times recently. People seem to not hate it but I don't think I can sell it so I'll throw it up on here. Thanks for reading.

Polar Bear

The Coca Cola bear isn't wearing sunglasses. His white fur is soaked with the blood of your precious children. Their innocence intact until their intestines are dislodged. Loosed onto the ground like an overfilled shopping bag, tearing open from the bottom. Its contents coloring the crushed snow. 

Well, good news. We are now free to destroy these animals. Smile you son of a bitch.

The polar bear is the spirit animal for the energy conservation movement. A noble cause that looks foolish to discredit. However, their selection of this monster was a poor choice. A recent NPR story has brought to our attention that these animals are in no danger of dying off. In fact because of a hunting ban 40 years ago they have experienced a baby boom. Also as seen on the Colbert Report all bears are godless killing machines.

On a personal note I've always wanted a bear skin rug. I’d invite somebody, maybe a coworker, over to show it off after a few too many glasses of wine. We take our shoes and socks off and grab at the fur with our toes. "It's so real!" she says as a pull her close and look deep into her blue eyes. Meeting her apprehensive shocked gaze with a fierce look of determination. We exchange no words as my grip grows tighter on the small of her back. We twist to the down to the floor.  Settling on the bear rug. Looking past her face. Above. Into the glassy eyes of the once mighty fallen beast. Imagining myself riding it up a mountain. Grabbing the fur as I thrust. Like a wave traveling hundreds of miles. Up and down.  Until it crashes into the rocks. Broken. Spent. Dead. As dead as the formerly powerful  creature beneath us.  “God damn” I say. Still panting. “This rug really ties the room together.”