Sunday, November 1, 2015

Yogi Bear in "Another Day, Another Park"


Yogi Bear and Ranger Smith on a nature trail, looking around at scrub pines and palmettos.

YOGI: Wow, Ranger Smith. I’m sure glad you talked us into this field trip. This Florida forest sure is a fascinating eco-system!

RANGER SMITH: It sure is, Yogi. I – 

Eyes go wide. Stops in his tracks.

RANGER SMITH: Oh God. Don’t look, Yogi.

YOGI: What? Oh no! 

Now Yogi sees the horrible scene.

Boo-Boo sprawled on the ground, the poor little guy's chest splattered open by a bloody Sam Peckinpah-style shotgun blast. 

YOGI: Boo-boo!

Runs to him.

BOO-BOO: I-is it bad, Yogi?

YOGI: Nah. Just a scratch

BOO-BOO: F** you, Yogi. You’re a lying mother****

YOGI: I sure am, Boo-boo.

BOO-BOO: It’s c-cold, Yogi.

Yogi holds him.

YOGI: Who did this, Boo-Boo.

BOO-BOO: Hunters, Yogi. H –

Boo-Boo buys the farm. Eyes turn to cartoon Xs. His spirit ascends to the place dead cartoon characters go.

Yogi howls, stands clutching Boo-Boo’s body. Gently sets him down. Looks around.  Then smiles, evilly. Spying --

The Hunters, now ironically enjoying a picnic, hunkered down near a stand of cypress, just chomping away, weapons conveniently out of reach, a lifeless Wally Gator strapped to the SUV behind them.  

Yogi's eyes narrow to slits. He rears back and extends his claws, roaring in feral rage. Advances --

Ranger Smith puts out his hand to his chest and stops him.

RANGER SMITH: No, Yogi. That would be wrong.

Cocks shotgun, hands it to him.