Scarebear

scarebear.jpg In my dream of an anti-gravity rocketship lived the Scarebear. It was crashlanding on Earth because it was out of solid fuel and its pile drive[r] was fidgety. It was good, [I suppose] that it flopped crunchingly right into the assembly bay of Amalgamator.

Amalgamator had really bad hair but this was good because it meant he was a genius scientist. Scarebear left his space-jalopy to be fiddled with by the Big A and wandered off to find some action. Scarebear had short stumpy legs and a rather expressionless face but [luckily] exuded some strange extrasensory magnetic creep force that drew lovely women into its digitless clutches.

It is a well known fact that all evil [and Scarebear was obviously evil] expresses strong lustfilled tendencies toward any women in its proximity. It is equally documented that beautiful women are equally drawn to this evil. This is explainable only beyond a supralogical basis, [that is] how [in this case] an extraterrestrial pseudo-sentient ursine-esque sexless and incorrigibly evil Scarebear can succumb [or, perhaps even cause its counterpart to succumb] to mindless symbolic rape behavior and that the nubile debutantes [often the victims [or, perhaps instigators] of this behavior] all are helpless before its undirected genderbent desire; all this is known beyond supralogically as the 1950s Horror Movie Director Simultaneous Projection/Rebellion Against [and at the same time For] Sexual Repression and [De]Mystification. [A further study of this topic will reveal answers to why the monster always rips off the blouse or skirt of the girl, why the girl is in a swamp/abandoned building/cemetary, why she is wearing heels in these places, why she should have listened to her parents and why exploitation cinema can make these statements while showing a man in a rubber sea monkey suit groping a wet shirted coed who screams but does not seem to really mind what is happening. It will also be a waste of time.]

This paradigm is what eventually drew Scarebear [or, as some have taken to dreaming him, Spacebear] and the Kiss Destroyer into proximity. The Kiss Destroyer was anything but the femme fatale vamp that she might appear to be. She was actually a very nice young girl with a congenital neuromuscular irregularity that freed her [or bound her from depending on the point of view] to a relatively different world than her non-atomic-powered-scooterless riding kin.

Scarebear was wandering through Station City [a most boring name its i-look-like-a-bear-but-am-not-a-bear brain almost thought] when its field of his creep force intersected the event horizon of the Kiss Destroyer. Two minutes later they were struggling. Scarebear was trying to unhitch her bra but was having difficulty because [1] she wasn’t wearing a bra [2] Scarebear’s arms could not bend [3] Scarebear had no fingers [4] Scarebear didn’t know what a bra was and [5] she was giving Scarebear its first bearhug. Then Kiss Destroyer kissed Scarebear on the nose [promptly expunging all evil from its system and turning it into a simple Spacebear on a roadtrip in its rocket-jalopy around the galaxy].

She took Scarebear back to Amalgamator [who hired her for no apparent reason with no apparent job and no apparent duties] and they sent Scarebear on its way.

[Now, I did dream about Scarebear and Kiss Destroyer [which is a Machines of Loving Grace song] but they were separate dreams and I combined them and made a story about them because I wanted to be random. [That is all.]]