Adventures of Sam Spade: "Death on the Speedway"
Judy and Jim Defy Savage Gorilla
Captain Tootsie Traps Killer Bear with Invisible Light
Captain Tootsie and the Radar Rescue
Wheaties: "Breakfast of Champions" With Milk and Fruit
"Gosh Captain Tootsie! They sure sound all excited about getting yanked into pieces by that ol' bear! Holy golly wow fuck! Check out this old guy's hat!!!"
I have no idea what Tootsie Rolls have to do with murdering bears. There was a tiny mentioning of all the energy Tootsie Rolls can give you when you're poaching wildlife, but only as an afterthought like the writer had to quickly adapt his old script about killing bears to make his Tootsie Roll deadline. Because honestly, how much energy do you need to watch Captain Tootsie walk a couple hundred yards and shoot the brains out of something with a high-powered rifle? You could do that from your bed while you're chewing on a stick of butter. Plus, most advertisements that end with the dangling corpse of a wild animal don't make you that hungry for candy.
Wrongful Bear Prosecution: 9/10
I don't trust anyone who's excited that his name is Coon Tail Charlie, but more importantly, I don't trust anyone who lives in the woods. I grew up in a small town in Oregon were nearby men who lived in the woods who would come to town twice a year to buy canned goods and bleach. The bleach was to sterilize the cans so they were safe to open and eat. They wore rubber gloves when they shopped, and wouldn't accept change that had touched a cashier's hand. Then they would go back to their cabins before the germs injected into the air by the communists had time to affect their clearly-not-insane-yet brains. I know all this because my brother and I were once, no bullshit, chased away from one of their cabins with a shotgun. My point is that people who live in the woods think everything is trying to kill them. If one of them says a bear is a killer bear, you should remember that he also thinks the moon is plotting your murder and your pants are building a mind-control device on your balls.
But also remember that no matter how many Tootsie Rolls you have, you should fear bears. They're nature's fish-slapping tanks-- they're not going massage your nipples and lead you to the gingerbread butterscotch meadow. You should consider it a very polite favor every time they don't tear you apart with their massive claws. But if it's running away from a group of little kids and their magnificently homosexual troup leader, the only thing it's ever going to kill is a bag of camper marshmallows. This is a bear who managed to get hunted down by a group of noisy children who at any time have uncontrollable outburts of excitement over some mountain man's fucking hat. There's no sport in killing an animal like that; that's the kind of bear they invent bear wheelchairs for. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fruitcake animal rights activist. In fact, I firmly believe that once you're born without thumbs, you're fair game to be forced into riding a little bike around until I'm tired of watching it and want to make a sandwich out of you.
What would you do if you were a park ranger this night? Say you drive up and see Captain Tootsie and the Secret Legion raising cheers to Tootsie Rolls around the corpse of a bear they killed out of season and hung from a tree. You wouldn't even wait to roll down the window before you opened fire.
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