“MURICA!”
King Kong Frank stands at the very peak of the highest mountain. The Premier American championship belt is tucked securely into the top of his overalls, and the wildman has a wild look plastered all over his face.
“HUSS!”
Just below him, not quite hidden in a small outcropping of craggy rocks, a tangled nest of sticks and whatnot houses a clutch of unhatched eggs. Stalking up the mountain is some sort of ridiculous black bear, its snout curled into a snarl and dripping all manner of drool and foam as it inches ever closer to its intended breakfast.
Do bears even climb mountains?
Welp, this one does!
Frank, King Kong of all mountains, ain’t having it.
Not today!
“Git on outta here,” Frank growls. “I SAID GIT!”
The bear, let’s call him Fred, does not respond in what one might describe as a positive manner. As a matter of fact, he ups the ante with a by taking a swipe at the nest with his massive paw.
“Lissin’ here you big summabi-”
He never gets the threat out as the shrill call of a pissed-off Mama Eagle drops out of the sky and dive bombs that big son of a… bear.
“GIT’IM, BETSY!”
The mama bird’s name is Betsy. She and Fred (the bear) square off in the kind of intricate dance of death that only happens when one animal tries to steal and eat the offspring of another. This is all kind of ridiculous and likely the product of some intern’s LSD-fueled fantasies.
Just don’t try to tell Frank it’s fake, he’ll slap the stupid outta ya for using the ‘F’ word in his vicinity, and that just is what it is.
Fred bats his giant paws at the attacking symbol of freedom, knocking Betsy for a loop in the process. Frank watches on in horror as it looks like she’s injured a wing in the fight. Fred turns his greedy, beady little bear eyes back to that nest full of scrumptious soon-to-be eagle-omelets!
Once again, King Kong Frank ain’t havin’ it!
“BAH GAWD I TOLD YOU TO GYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITONOUTTAHEEYAH!!!”
Through the magic of professional wrestling, King Kong Frank produces a blue steel folding chair from out of thin air. It’s entirely possible that the same goons that stash barbed wire ladders and bags of thumbtacks under wrestling rings have been given access to this mountain. It’s also possible that this is all a moonshine-soaked fever dream. You be the judge!
The bear lunges at the nest, and Frank explodes into action, waffling Fred square in his dumb bear face with that steel chair! Fred, now in complete murder moad, lets loose a mighty roar. Not to be outdone, King Kong Frank responds in kind.
“RAAAAAAAAAAAWRGLEBARGLEFARGLE!”
Fred hesitates, Frank jumps between the bear and the precious baby ‘Merica-birds and throws a Smoky Mountain headbutt right upside of Fred’s gaping maw of a mouth. He kicks the bear in the gut, grabs him by the head, and drops him down with the kind of DDT that could either be the dawn of world peace or more likely the beginning of a PETA campaign against Classic Wrestling.
Again, you be the judge.
Fred tumbles a few feet down the mountain. Frank, sensing opportunity, pulls the title belt out of his overalls and places it lovingly around the eggs inside of the nest. Betsy hobbles and wobbles up to her pre-hatched babies and hovers over them protectively. The Smoky Mountain Mastodon then does what any God-fearing freedom-loving American would do in this situation.
He takes a flying leap…
…Betsy screeches in approval…
…and Frank crashes knees first into Fred the Bear’s exposed chest with a big-time Mountain Top Knee Drop!
“MERICA! HUSS! HUSS!”
Defeated, Fred the Bear takes off down the mountain with his tail tucked between his legs. Figuratively, I guess. Frank turns his attention back to Betsy and her babies. Being a life-long nature aficionado Frank knows just what to do!
He breaks out a flask and pours a little bit of mountain dew (not to be confused with MTN DEW) down the big bird’s gullet. Almost immediately Betsy has fully recovered and she flexes her wings like some kind of avian Popeye. Simultaneously all three eggs hatch to the tune of Ted Nugent’s Stranglehold.
cheep-cheep! cheep-cheep!
Betsy regurgitates a bunch of worms all over the eagle puppies, and Frank smiles.
.
.
.
(No animals were harmed during the filming of this vignette.)