How to Fall in Love. . .With The Wasteland Bear God

The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God Logo

How to Fall in Love With The Wasteland Bear God

With Special Guests The Maker and The Wasteland Bear God


Below is a loosely transcribed print version of the dialogue.


“This little ditty is about, and rightfully so titled, How to Fall in Love With The Wasteland Bear God. Really, it’s quite simple. I should know since I created him after all.”

“Do we really, really have to recall this nonsense again?”

“Not right now, because that’d be derailing the matter.”

“Derailing? I’ll rail your ass—”

“ANYWAY, as I was saying. . .it’s quite easy to fall in love with The Wasteland Bear God. All you have to do is commit yourself to him, commit some sin, and [with consent] join an orgy. . .or if you can’t do that—a LAN party. Just be sure to bring with you a case of beer, assorted snacks, and you know, pitch in for pizza [not necessarily in that order].”

“Now, when I get into beer, I am talking about some good stuff. Not this. . .PBR (Pabst Blue Ribbon) bullshit.”

“I concur with this statement, mortal.”

“Yes, as you should. You want to bring tasteful brews, some IPAs are OK, though most are a no go and will be the fast track of getting your head removed from your shoulders, and your body left for undead fornication.”

“I do love a thorough. . .examination. . .of a recently vandalized body.”

“. . .Right. . . Anyway, some prime choices are Franziskaner, Zombie Killer, Hoegaarden [or Garden of Hoes, miss ya, buddy—Chuck Star], Stella Artois, Veldensteiner—wheat beers, alright? Hefeweizen brewskies. Now, we’re cool with Dos Equis, Corona, Modelo, and Samuel Smith—have you even tried their Organic Strawberry or Chocolate Stout? Makes your balls tingle! Oh, and Lindemans’ Framboise. Yeah, that pretty good. I can go on, and on, and on, but we’re pressed for time. As for the IPAs. . .just not that fucking damn hopped fucking up on fucking hops shit, and we’ll be good.”

“You’re making my mouth water. . .and my loins ache!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on—”

“I don’t wear any. . .”

“WELL, WHO’S FAULT IS THAT?!”

“Yours. . .you did not have me equip any. . .”

“You’re such a fucking Nancy. . .”

“I will make you eat my ass!”

“And that about proves it. . .”

“I, uh. . .hmm. . .I see. Very well, I will yield to you, mortal. Continue.”

“Thank you! Now, where was I at? Ah—yes, the snacks, and pizza. It doesn’t really matter for snacks. Potato chips [crisps, whatever you wanna fucking call them], Chex Mix, pizza rolls, potato skins, mozzarella sticks, nachos. . .mmm. . .nachos.”

“I agree! We must have some!”

“Not tonight, it’s too late—sadly.”

“Tomorrow?” [whimpers pathetically]

“No, we have matters to tend to. Now, continuing with—”

“What about the next day then?” [whines]

“. . .No. . .Just wait until Friday or Saturday, like a good little Bear God. NOW, as I was saying. . .”

“I really, really, really want some fucking nachos, though. Beef or chicken. . .it matters not! I wants it—I wants it in my Godly tum tum!” [rubs Godly tum tum]

“JUST FUCKING WAIT UNTIL FRIDAY OR SATURDAY! WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF WE’LL BE ABLE TO GO BECAUSE IT’S A FUCKING BUSY WEEK! For fuck’s sake. . .”

[Mighty Bear God hangs his head dejectedly]

[Sighs heavily] “Fine, we’ll see about making some at home or something.”

[Mighty Bear God claps excitedly] “Hell yeah!”

“Now then. . .snacks. Buffalo wings!”

“GIVE ME THE WINGS OF BUFFALO!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”


THE DIARY OF THE WASTELAND BEAR GOD!

 


They don’t care what’s on the pizza really. . .except anchovies, artichokes, and that’s about it. Pay up! Oh and don’t worry about the tip, because the driver will most certainly get the tip.

Yep. Yep.

Author: Sincados

Writer, gamer, foodie, brew enthusiast, and awesome dad. Also likes to make explosions...but not in any particular order.

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