The Mahavishnu Orchestra
It was a dark yet pleasant night. It had just been a dim and breezy evening only hours prior, and prior to that it was a bright and sunny afternoon. Right then, however, it was nighttime, and very dark.
Leaves rustled in the wind. Several twigs snapped for no inexplicable reason. Somewhere in the distance, a turkey gobbled.
Nick goes for a nice, pleasant... OH MY GOD
Nick Nickleback knew he shouldn't be walking around at this time of night, but he had to walk across town to pick up some bread and eggs for his traditional pre-Halloween bread and egg sandwich. Also, it was a very nice day, and maybe he might meet some nice women in the park.
Instead, he would only meet with DOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!
"Oh, hey there buddy!" Nick said to his old childhood buddy Doominic Arfvidson, who he lovingly called Doom.
"'Sup Nick! Going to buy some bread and eggs?"
"You better believe it, man! Say, are you coming to Genna's party tomorrow?"
"You better believe it, man! Are you going to be dressing up as an Oompa Loompa again?"
"You better believe it, man! That stuff always gets me laid in the midget community!"
"You better believe it, man! I'm going to rip your intestines out!"
"You better believe it, what?"
Doominic ripped off his muscle T-shirt to reveal a hedge of dusky brown fur. Oh my God, Doominic had been turned into a werewolf!
No, wait, werewolf fur is more milky brown. I think Doominic’s a warwelf. Or maybe a worwif.
It turns out that none of those predictions were correct, and Doominic was actually a werebear. The young, blonde hot shot suddenly shot up to twice his normal height, and grew out an extra four feet of girth. Dark fur sprung up at every point of his body as his belt buckle snapped off from extreme pressure, coming dangerously close to hitting Nick in the eye.
Wait a minute, it looks like he’s transforming into a Kodiak bear. That’s not a werebear at all. All werebears are of Russian origin, and there are no Kodiak bears in Russia, all of those come from Canada and Alaska.
Oh my GOD, thought Nick. He’s no werebear at all! He’s just… just… just a REGULAR bear!
It’s what Nick had feared his entire life. One of his childhood friends was, in fact, a bear all along. Nick turned tail and ran for his life as Doom’s final articles of clothing fiercely snapped off.
Home, sweet... OH MY GOD
Nick entered his house and latched the door shut with two locks to protect himself from the crazy, eight hundred pound bear. What a run! he thought as he doubled over from lack of breath and vomited a couple dozen times. He may not have his bread and egg sandwich, but he can still relax and make love to his wife. Nick starts preemptively undressing as he walks into his bedroom.
“Honey, I’m ho—DEAR LORD!” Nick exclaimed as he noticed the wife-shaped bear wreaking havoc in his bedroom. The ursine behemoth upturned a giant chest of drawers, which released a trove of underwear, a jackpot of wife-beaters, and a dowry of G-strings as it toppled over and shook the earth below.
“RAWR!” replied his lovely bear wife, who proceeded to charge directly at Nick.
"WHAT THE HELL, THIS ISN'T COOL," mused Nick as he ran for his life.
"THIS WORLD HAS GONE COMPLETELY NUTS," he contemplated as he jumped out of his window in nothing but his underwear and ran for the police station.
"POLICE! POLICE! HELP ME NOW!" he politely asked the nice policemen as he entered the station. All the officers stopped right in their tracks and turned to face Nick. Even the fat one stopped eating his doughnut. These policemen look surprised and disgusted, but at least they're friendly.
The police chief pokes his head out from his office and beckons Nick to enter. Nick takes several deep breaths and gains his bearings.
"Thanks... thank you..." he pants as he walks into his office and closes the door behind him. Now that he's in a sane state of mind, he can calmly recall the events of the evening.
Now that he's in a sane state of mind, he realizes that something is amiss. The doughnut that the chubby policeman was gnawing on before did not look like a doughnut, and was deceptively salmon-shaped.
"AW HELLZ NAH!" Nick shouted as he dove out of the way of the charging police chief bear. The bear hauled ass through the door into the lobby of the station, revealing five more angry bears.
"This is not happening... this is not happening..." Nick regretfully admits as he cowers into the fetal position.
A burst of good luck... OH MY GOD
Luckily enough for Nick, none of this actually was happening.
Thank God, it was all just a dream. A crazy dream.
Well, time to go to work.
Nick had turned into a giant cockroach.
What a twist!
The day had not even started yet, but Nick was positive that it couldn't get any worse. Seriously, what can be worse than waking up as a cockroach on Halloween morning? Also, why isn't he in his normal bed, and why does it look like Austria outside of that window?
Before Nick can continue being a worrywart, a grizzled old neanderthal crashes through the stucco wall on Nick's right, riding a giant purple toad.
"BLESSINGS BE TO ZEUS, MAURICE! WE HAVE FOUND JUST WHAT WE'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR!" the toad sharply yells in a thick German accent. The neanderthal dismounts the bloated amphibian, retrieves the human-sized roach that used to be a handsome blonde man who attended Penn State class of '76, and mounts the toad with the former man still in his clutches.
Then, they sail away into the sunset!
Over the Rainbow
Deep into the sunset, the giant toad touches down on solid ground.
By solid ground, I mean cloud.
Accompanying the mute neanderthal man, the former Penn State alumnus, and the magical purple toad on this cloud is a motley crew of four leprechauns, sixteen oversized pixies, one cocaine addicted Cuban, two suspicious trolls, three trolling suspicions, the Loch Ness monster, Michael Moore, the entire cast and crew of the May 1998 Broadway production of Les Miserables, and one very angry dwarf.
"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN, MAURICE AND XANDAR?" screamed the dwarf in a terribly obnoxious voice. Nick scrunches his sixteen eyes on the dwarf. Upon closer inspection, it is actually Gilbert Gottfried.
"WHY, WE JUST FOUND OUR NEW TROMBONE PLAYER!" replied the toad, apparently named Xandar.
"PERFECT! PERFECT! WELL, GET HIM IN POSITION, AND WE CAN FINALLY START!"
The neanderthal man unceremoniously chucks Nick in between two leprochauns and hands him a dilapidated brass instrument.
"Um... this is a french horn," Nick attempts to say before he remembers that he's a giant cockroach.
Well, this sucks.
And so Nick was destined to play avant-garde jazz music with the Transcendental Mahavishnu Orchestra for the next five thousand years, when he had the stunning revelation that they were all, in fact, just bears. That explained how every song made by the Mahavishnu Orchestra sounds exactly like fifty bears growling over and over and over again.
The only thing that saved him from being imminently devoured was the ensuing revelation that he, too, was in fact a bear.
He was mauled anyway, since he was a black bear and the other bears didn't like that.
The moral of the story
There is a bear in the woods.
For some people the bear is easy to see. Others don't see it at all.
Some people say the bear is tame. Others say it's vicious and dangerous.
Since no one can really be sure who is right, isn't it smart to be as strong as the bear?
If there is a bear....
Director - Michael Bay
Hair Stylist - Michael J. Fox
Fur Stylist/Bear Handler/Carny - Michael Vick
(Mostly) Writer - Michael Night Shylamallamadingdong
Epilogue Writer - Zombie Ronald Reagan