Nerding Day: The Magic of the Golden Bear 🌭

Gather around children, for the fire is warm upon the hearth and my grandfatherly voice is just the right amount of gin-soaked. It smells of old leather, even though there is none in the room. And, if you’ll all just close your precious peepers and shut up for five minutes For The Love of God, I’ll tell you a story – one sure to entertain the whole family in their home theatre. See?

Tonight’s tale is called The Magic of the Golden Bear, and then in parenthesis “(Goldy III).”

Do you know what parenthesis are? Can you explain why the movie subtitle is in parenthesis? Because I can’t! Nor can I tell you why the number is in the subtitle, even though the first two Golden Bear movies have it the normal way.

Also, how do you go “Last,” then “Saga,” then “Magic?” How is that a build? Oh, and of course by “movie,” Grandpa means the bedtime story he’s about to tell you. We should probably start since my premise is already slipping.

This is the story of Goldy III: The Magic of the Golden Bear!

Once, there was a big fluffy bear, and not the kind that became Daddy’s new best friend when Daddy and Mommy stopped being best friends (even though all three of them still love you very much). This bear’s name was Goldy, and she was the very last Golden Bear. Being the last of something is called being “rare,” like how you don’t see a diamond very often unless you work at the place where they keep big piles of diamonds to keep diamond prices high. Or a steak can be rare, or cows can become rare because steak is so common. Words sure can be confusing!

Here’s some confusing words, letting you know that sharing the story I’m about to tell you is a big no-no, especially if you ask all your little friends for a nickel to hear it. This is called copyright law, and it’s something you won’t have to worry about when you grow up because of A.I. technology. Now, in this story there’s a very scary character called the Ghost Man, so try to be brave. To make the Ghost Man a little less scary, let’s imagine him as someone silly, like Mr. T.

Not Mr. T from our alphabet book, I mean Mr. T the man from the YouTube compilation I showed you. His real name is Laurence, did you know that? What a stupid name. I don’t think a name could get any sillier.

I stand corrected. Cheech’s real name is Richard Anthony, but he shortened it to Cheech because of marijuana. Marijuana is a plant that helps grandpas relax, and the reason you can only eat the brownies in the vermillion tupperware, never the cerise, even though I placed them side-by-side within easy reach and swap them occasionally to keep you on your toes.

There will be other people in the story too, all of whom have porn star names. There’s Danny Woodburn, Jeff Handsomeguy, Fuck Blower, Kevin Broseph and Dick Millionaire. Can you think of a funny porn star name? No, Jonny Spaghetti is not a good porn star name. You suck at this.

Anyhow, one day Goldy’s very best friend, a little girl named Geraldine Vajbyrne, was getting oo-mox from her cranky old teacher Mrs. Dowrimple. Mrs. Dowrimple was mad because Geraldine always had dirty bare feet at school. Even though her dirty bare feet were how Geraldine made most of her income, she didn’t care one bit, and only wanted the schoolhouse to stay clean. Heck, she was such a mean old crow, she even got upset when Goldy stole her bicycle, rode it past the school at breakneck speed, immediately ate shit and totaled the bike against a tree, sprinted back to the schoolhouse, ate all the kids’ lunches and took over control of the classroom!

That old Mrs. Dowrimple sure was a bitch! Can you say “bitch?” That’s right, you can’t. That was a test. Good job. Old Mrs. D was so angry, she made Geraldine and Goldy both wear dunce caps and sit in the corner.

Well, the school only had the one dunce cap, so Goldy had to use a spare Klan hood. This was the rural 1860s, after all. Now to intercut, weaving various threads of the story together in a fashion that disjoints time to maintain a feeling of dynamics. But I shouldn’t patronize – you know how bedtime stories work, you’re seven. So meanwhile, the cantankerous racist who lent Mrs. Dowrimple the hood and his two dumbshit sons wandered through the scrub, probably sucking each other off and murdering buffalo, the absolute assholes.

This sort of behavior made the Ghost Man very mad, so mad that he also decided to indulge in some 1860s-style racism. He jumped out at the men, shaking his appropriative rain stick and looking fierce in his appropriative face paint and headdress! Spellcheck urged Grandpa to change that to “appropriate rain stick” and “appropriate face paint,” but that would be inaccurate.

Realizing that he is fighting racism with racism, which is another big no-no, the Ghost Man came up with a better plan. He fought racism…with fire!

This scared the bad men all the way back to town, where there would be no more racism at all (as long as you don’t count wooden drugstore indians).

Needing to further dirty her feet for reasons Grandpa will explain to you when you’re older, Geraldine headed out into the wilds, her loyal bear and companion Goldy by her side. The only problem was, at least one of them – and maybe both – were fools, to be pitied. The Ghost Man had no choice but to scare them away too, even though Goldy has a bite power of roughly nine hundred pounds per square inch, which would act upon the Ghost Man’s bones much like an industrial press upon a bundle of reeds.

The Ghost Man would probably have chased them all the way home! Luckily, his reasonable crow friend talked him down, explaining that he had observed Geraldine and Goldy, and knows them to be friends to animals, lovers of freedom, and owners of some of the filthiest feet around.

CAW! said the crow! OH! said the Ghost Man! I DIDN’T KNOW THAT! THANK YOU CROW!

The Ghost Man could talk to animals, see, or else was seriously mentally ill. Or both! Sometimes more than one thing can be true at the same time, like how Grandpa’s drink can be tequila AND rum AND vodka AND triple sec AND lemon juice AND simple syrup AND a splash of cola. Anyhow, the crow had been canceled for his previous work on Dumbo but was trying to make a lowkey comeback in the world of straight-to-TV. Sorry, I mean straight-to-bedtime-story-I-wrote-for-you.

That night at dinner, Geraldine told her clod-hopping family all about the Ghost Man. While they were distracted, Goldy ate their pie right off the windowsill! It made everyone laugh, both because it’s just such a silly thing to do, and because of the bite pressure dry reeds thing I mentioned earlier.

Seriously, Grandchild, look at the guy on the right – that’s a terror-smile. But it’s nothing compared to the terror-smile an egg-eyed little person with a fu-manchu mustache had just at that moment given to a poster of his master, the great magician Borgia.

For Master Borgia’s first trick, he kind of did a match cut between the poster and himself making the same face…kind of. In your mind’s eye, please imagine legendary stoner comic Cheech Marin as the great magician. If you also get a little high, some of the back half of the story will make more sense. Go ahead, Grandpa won’t tell. Look, I’ll go first. What are you, chicken?

Anyway, trick two was to shove a sword right through his throat, which was pretty wicked.

Master Borgia also had the power of hypnosis, which he showcased as his third and final trick. That was the whole show: a knife to the neck and the power to bend men to his will.

Keep in mind, this was history times. The Masked Magician had not yet taken to FOX to reveal The Magician’s Secrets, so people were more easily impressed by simple tricks like mind control.

Using his power to see the future through a crystal ball, which arguably would have been a good way to pad out the show a bit, Master Borgia became aware of Goldy. Since Goldy was the very last Golden Bear in the world, she was imbued with a lot of natural magic, and the evil magician decided to try and steal her to make her part of his show. It was a real 101 Dalmatians situation, if the dalmatians could have swatted Cruella to the ground and crunched her face off at will.

Of course, fifteen minutes had passed so it was time for another long look at Geraldine dirtying her feet. What’s that? You don’t like that part of the story? Shh, let Grandpa have this. Let Grandpa cook. Anyhow, once Geraldine’s feet were nice and filthy, she said goodbye to Pa and set off barefoot with a pair of boots over her shoulder.

Then, in a surprise twist, the story pulled out to reveal that they apparently live in Chernobyl.

She swiftly made her way back to the town concentration camp, I mean schoolhouse, to scrabble in the dirt with the other drab moppets and learn about what her life was unfortunately going to be like.

This meant Goldy had to stay home alone with Pa, which made her none too happy! She missed Geraldine, and wasn’t afraid to say so.

ROAAAAR! said Goldy. Pa just stood there a-cleanin’ his rifle until she got the idea and went and threw on one of Ma’s old dresses (rest her soul). Then Pa and Goldy did some roleplay, which Grandpa will tell you about when you’re significantly older than you will be when Grandpa tells you about the dirty feet stuff.

Finally, it was time for the Big Town Talent Show that I forgot to mention until now! Everyone was very excited as they filed under the big poster with the traditional symbol of a talent show on it: one black cat with a neck ruff standing atop two kittens who are themselves stood atop two kittens apiece, astride three balls of yarn that form the base.

Master Borgia was in town looking for Goldy, and took the stage first. He dazzled everyone right away with a trick even better than mind control or immortality – the ability to vomit paper for a long long time. Think of the applications!

Geraldine knew she would have to pull out all the stops to win against such a magical magician, so she and Goldy practiced all night on their acrobatics routine, which they had to perform that afternoon for the whole town.

Goldy didn’t do shit. Geraldine flipped all around and cheated her feet toward camera and did everything that was asked of her, but Goldy just sat there trying to use forced perspective to make it seem like she was standing on a ball. She wasn’t. “This is going to be harder than I thought!” thought Geraldine. “Fuck!” It was the first time she had ever sworn in her head. It felt good.

But with Goldy unable or unwilling to do any proper tricks, Geraldine knew she had only one hope of winning that Big Town Talent Show. Taking the stage, she forgot all about her acrobatics routine and fell back on pure instinct. Thus, after a brief Ace Ventura impersonation, she bent all the way over and let out a long, high, keening whistle of a fart for four whole minutes.

And then everyone clapped.

Even Master Borgia had to admit it was the finest work of art and affirmation of the human spirit he’d ever been privileged enough to witness. That fart was so beautiful, in fact, that it shattered the will of Master Borgia’s assistant, who left town to “go find himself,” which in this case meant working shifts as a night watchman at a feed and grain operation up in Tulsa.

Spotting his opportunity, Borgia tried to hypnotize Pa into giving him Goldy, but Pa passed a Will Saving Throw and shrugged off the attempt.

This left Borgia no choice but to try and rig the big shooting contest, so he could win a pot of gold and buy Goldy anyway. Again, owning the bear would amplify his magic abilities for reasons I can’t and won’t be goaded into explaining.

Somewhere, a rainbow wept and a leprechaun went without, because that pot of gold was brimming, let me tell you! Everyone in town took a turn shooting at targets, hoping to win that big shiny pile of coins. There was Calamity Ma’am…

…Gentleman Jim “Dandy” Léon…

…Brad from Homeroom…

…and of course, Jesse Plemons.

When Pa’s turn finally came, Master Borgia unleashed his most powerful spell of all – a handful of loose glitter!

And believe it or not, that was enough. Pa missed his target, leaving Borgia to win the gold. He then immediately tried to buy Goldy from Pa, a man who had just that morning resisted magical ensorcellment. Shockingly, that also didn’t work, since Pa could just say “no, I don’t want to sell you the bear for a pot of gold” and then Borgia was essentially out of moves.

…and that’s how Goldy the Bear and Geraldine the Foot Model didn’t win a pot of gold but did turn from pitiable fools into the ones pitying the fool, which their rival the magician Master Borgia now had become. Honestly, pretty straightforward. Dry stuff.

Oh, you’re not asleep yet? But the fire is no longer warm upon the hearth. Okay, shit, well, I guess we haven’t checked in with Mr. T in a while. So, realizing Goldy didn’t rightly belong to anyone, Geraldine and Pa released her into the wild, where she and the Ghost Man hung out and did bear stuff for the rest of their days.

What? Who ended up with the pot of gold? I guess Borgia did according to plot logic, but that doesn’t seem right – bad guy leaving with the gold. Hm…okay, let’s say Ghost Man beat Borgia to death later outside town. That wise old crow ate his eyes, I guess. Goodnight!

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Michael has moved from X to Bluesky. He also has a Patreon and a Substack, and releases new videos on the Cracked YouTube channel every Sunday.

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Russell Bauman, who is very relieved nobody fucked the bear in this one.