How the Christiano Bear got it's mullet.
Once upon a time, a long long time ago - all the way back to a couple of hours hence - there lived a Christiano bear named Christiano Bear. On the day on which our story takes place, the Christiano Bear was to reach the venerable old age of 21. Unfortunately for the Christiano Bear, his friends had all been struck down with that terrifyingly contagious disease, uni-work. Further to his misfortune, the strobe light in the local retirement village had broken down, so he was unable to celebrate in due style with his contemporaries. But the Christiano Bear was wise, and the Christiano Bear was omnipotent, and the Christiano Bear also grew tired of things easily, hence the sudden jarring change about to appear in the story's narration, whereby he is hereafter to be simply referred to as the Xn. The Xn had long since taught himself the dangers of sitting alone in such a quiet house, receiving unceasing birthday wishes from his beloved cat. And so it came to pass that, on this day, the Xn decided to go for a hike around Black Mountain.
The Xn walked and walked, and walked and walked. And as he walked, he hailed the creatures of the woodland as he passed. 'Hello Mr. Sheep' he said to the sheep. 'Happy birthday' cried the sheep, as it somehow managed to simultaneously continue to chew. 'Hello Mr. Kangaroo' he said to the kangaroo. 'Happy birthday!' returned the kangaroo, giving Xn a slow, refined golf clap as he passed. 'Hello cockatoo' he said to the cockatoo. 'Happy birthday' cooed the cockatoo, obviously deciding to be nice to the Xn's eardrums as a special birthday treat. 'Hello Magpie family' he said to the magpie family. 'I'm hungry' returned the petulant baby magpie, as its parents gazed on fondly.
What a lucky Xn I am, thought the Xn as he wandered on, to be worthy of such responses from my animal friends. 'Well,' said the kangaroo to him, which had apparently decided to stalk him. Or maybe it was a different kangaroo... 'you are a pretty OK guy.' 'I know,' said the Xn, 'I've got the trophy to prove it, and everything.' And he whipped out a trophy from his back pocket. It read "World's Pretty OKest guy." 'Very impressive,' acknowledged the kangaroo, who may have been a different kangaroo, but was definitely at least a kangaroo, and gave him another slow, refined golf clap, before scratching it's ear.
In time, the Xn came to the edges of the Black Mountain paddocks, and thus to the base of the mountain itself. 'I shall climb this mountain,' Xn said to no one in particular, as his mob of creepy kangaroo stalkers had finally stopped stalking him when he'd passed the last one. 'Are you sure that is wise? It is so steep, after all,' came a voice. 'Who was that?' asked the Xn with some trepidation. 'It is I, of course,' said the voice, and Xn finally saw the divine visage of Ralph the tiger, lounging lazily on a tree branch in the way that only a cat can. Even one filled with so many sacred beans. And so it came to pass that Ralph did reveal his presence to the Xn.
The Xn was in awe. 'How sexy you are,' he said before he could stop himself. And so it came to pass that Ralph did hesitate mid-sentence, shyly, and blush slightly. And so it came to pass that Ralph did say unto the Xn 'Why thank you! I've been trying a new product, but I didn't know if anyone would notice. Shucks. Truly, thou art worthy of thy trophy.' And so it came to pass that the Ralph did fade into the background like a true Cheshire cat, revealing a black and orange flower where once he had reclined. 'Was that really real? Was I truly blessed?' And so it came to pass that Ralph did show himself to the Xn again. 'Happy birthday, by the way.' And so it came to pass that Ralph did disappear once more, and the Xn travelled on, content in the knowledge that truly he was blessed.
And the Xn climbed and climbed, and climbed and climbed. Eventually, he reached a large rock. The Xn decided to take his respite on this rock, and put up his feet to marvel at the view. Unfortunately for the Xn, in so doing he knocked a small rock loose. The rock rolled and rolled, and rolled and rolled, until it was more roll than rock. When it reached the edge of the precipice, it hung, preposterously and comically, for a second, before tumbling down to the ground, causing a cacophonous crash.
Startled by the sound, a stunning, small skink skittered out of its hidey hole, and stared at the ground. The Xn stared at it. 'Hello Mr Skink,' he said to the skink as he had to all his animal friends previously; only with their names in place of the word Skink, in case the previous part of this sentence had been a bit vague on that point. The skink turned it's head slowly, regally, and gazed at the Xn. 'I am no skink,' it finally intoned. 'I am the skinx, Australasian equivalent of the more famous sphinx. Perhaps you have heard of her. You have awoken me from my slumber, insignificant huma- I mean bear, and so you must pay the price. I shall give unto thee a riddle most cunning and vexing. Answer it correctly, and I shall let you pass. Answer it incorrectly, however, and I shan't go hungry tonight.'
'You?' laughed the Xn incredulously, if somewhat meanly. 'You will eat me? Intriguing. And how will you go about that?' The skinx simply stared at him. 'OK, OK,' said the Xn, cowed, 'what is the riddle?' The skinx cleared it's throat, and began to recite:
WHAT IS ROUND AND PLUSH?
WHAT IS FOUND IN MUSH?
WHEN THE WORLD WAS STILL YOUNG,
WHAT IS THE SUM OF THE NONE?
'Abraham Lincoln,' the Xn replied without pause. 'Now answer my question.'
'Wait, no. No, that's the wron-' began the skinx, but the Xn interjected. 'Shh! We'll talk about that later.' The skinx sighed deeply, and said 'very well, what is your question?' 'Tell me this,' said the Xn, 'how is it possible for a skink to talk? You don't have any vocal chords or anything with which to introduce vibrations into the air in your throat. It is logically impossible!' 'Oh bugger,' cried the skinx, and vanished in a puff of logic (or possibly just got bored and ran away).
'Wait a second,' the skinx cried and reappeared, 'that's robots that are defeated by logic!' But the Xn had already departed. The skinx muttered to itself, before conceding a 'happy birthday, by the way!'
The Xn continued on his trek. Presently, he came upon the very heart of the mountain, somewhat arbitrarily placed near the top. As he ventured into the heart, he saw a sight to withhold with simple wonder. 'Hello Mr. Tawny Frogmouth! I didn't know there were any of you up here!' The Tawny Frogmouth smiled benignly, and then said unto the Xn 'welcome to the heart of the mountain, dear Xn, World's Pretty OKest Guy. Happy birthday to you.' 'Why thank you,' said the Xn shyly, for it is always an honour, even for the World's Pretty OKest Guy, to be granted with the gift of acknowledgement from a Tawny Frogmouth. 'As a special birthday treat, I shall grant unto thee one wish.'
The Xn thought and thought, and thought and thought. He thought long and hard about his wish, as he didn't wish to screw it up. Thankfully, as the Xn was a wise creature, he didn't say that out loud, as then he would actually have screwed it up, causing a terrible paradox to unfold and envelop the entire world in truly apocalyptic ways. It is the little things like this that make the Xn so worthy of the title of World's Pretty OKest Guy.
At long last, the Xn finally alighted on his perfect wish. He cleared his throat, and made his request. 'Oh wise and venerable Mr. Tawny Frogmouth,' said the Xn, 'I wish for another muse.' 'hmmm....' pondered the wise and venerable Tawny Frogmouth. 'Are you sure you are ready? You certainly screwed up with your last.' 'I know,' replied the Xn resignedly, 'but though I am still weak in many respects, I think I've grown far stronger since then, more mature, less... you know, terrified. And I feel I could provide more. And she doesn't have to be as amazing as Ali was,' the Xn added hurriedly. 'Still is, but you know in what way I mean.' 'hmmmm...' pondered the wise and venerable Tawny Frogmouth.
'Very well,' proclaimed the Tawny Frogmouth at long last, 'here is what I shall do. I shall bequeath to you a mullet, for your own personal use as muse, and we shall see where to go to from there.' 'A mullet?' cried the Xn, incensed. 'What is that supposed to inspire me to write?' 'I don't know,' deadpanned the Tawny Frogmouth, 'Hair: The Musical?'
They both laughed, as it was a pretty hilarious thing to suggest.
And that is the story of how the Christiano Bear got it's mullet.