“Bear lives matter! Bear lives matter! Bear lives matter!” Bart was so infuriated with racist dogs and racist eagles and all the unfair cretins who took the food that was his because he wanted it that he was seeing red. Sammy was right! There is nothing worse than a white dog attacking you just because you are black! It was totally unfair! It was…
Bart never really thought about it before, but there it was right in front of his eyes! Sammy had a big streak of white right down the middle of his back. Sammy was racist!
Bart brought up his foot and stomped HARD.
Edward the Eagle, who loved his excellent vision, regretted it at this moment. The skunk, having become more or less an over pressurized vessel, exploded under the bear’s paw. Eagles have strong stomachs but Sammy was one seriously nasty creature and seeing the inside of Sammy as a great pink sphere of organs and stench was too much. The eagle spread his wings and took flight. He was going to get as far from the horror as he possibly could. He especially wanted out of there before the stink traveled up into the trees.
Mr. Curmudgeon saw the same technicolor atrocity through a nine power scope and felt the same revulsion. He almost lost his lunch. He eased his finger off the trigger, clicked the safety on, and flopped on his back behind the log. Oh God, it was so revolting!
A bit of wind tickled his face and he shook off the scene that had revolted him. Thankfully the wind was in his favor; blowing not from the skunk towards him but the other way. Anything that would keep that scent at bay was a blessing. He decided to clear out fast before the wind shifted.
He moved to retreat from what was unquestionably going to be the most horrific smell in the history of exploding skunks. But first, what about the bear?
Steeling himself, he glanced over the log and brought up his binoculars. The bear was still there. It was frozen in place; pinned to the spot by a stench so overwhelming that no living being could endure it. There were skunk bits dangling all over the bear. Internally, the bear’s mind had locked up.
Some things are so gross that they’ll make a bear go catatonic. That’s a fact you won’t find on Google.
Mr. Curmudgeon shuddered, if the bear didn’t have neurological problems before, it would now. Assuming it didn’t find a way to kill itself during the next several days (which would be a mercy) it was going to smell horrific all through the hibernation season. Possibly for the rest of its miserable life.
He edged back, grabbed his pack, and bugged out.
And now you know what really happened to the bear and the skunk.