The rise of the Sinister Bears

There's a tiny wet-snouted revolution going on under our noses, and we've all been too wrapped up in our own affairs to even notice.  Unlike many revolutions, this one never began with a brazen action, a bold show of force.  It began with the subtlest of moves that happened overnight and barely registered.

Don't be fooled by the outwardly cute appearance of this Panda.  At first glance he looks quite adorable, agreed?  With his little fat belly, his bottle of milk and his oversized armchair, what is there to fear?  You have everything to fear, ladies and gentlemen.  What appears to be a charming novel advert is little short of a series of thinly veiled threats.  You will eat Foxes biscuits, the bear implies in his threatening Brooklyn accent, or he will rip your fucking throat out.  Admittedly, the advertisement never goes as far as using those actual words, but the implication is there for all to see.  I guarantee by as early as next year that the first bodies will be discovered; those individuals who refused to be coerced by Vinnie into eating his delicious individually wrapped chocolate covered snacks. 

"What are you worried about?", I hear you ask.  "What can one bear do from the comfort of his oversized armchair?". 

"Aha", I say to you, "This is but the first phase of a plan more sinister than you can possibly imagine, unless of course you have a really powerful imagination.  If only they were confined we would be safe, but now they're in our hotels."

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the latest Travelodge advertising campaign.  The innocently titled "Mr Sleep and the Zzz Squad".  Mr. Sleep?  Mr. Sleep?  For one thing, he's a cockney.  If absorbing Eastenders by osmosis by being in the room at the same time that it's on, honest, has taught me anything it's that the majority of cockneys are gangsters.  And "Mr. Sleep" seems to be nothing more than a codename - Mr Sleep?  Mr Long Sleep, you mean.  Look at them in that police line up photograph.  Sends a shiver down your spine, doesn't it?  To think of them roaming your hotel lobbies at night, ensuring you get a good nights sleep.  I'll never sleep safely in a hotel again.  Todays the day the teddy bears have their flick-knives.

"Fair play", you say, "I can see that at first what I thought was a vaguely comical post about a recent coincedental trend in advertising is much more than that, and I thank you for making me aware.  But surely, if I avoid hotels I will be safe?"

I wish that were the case, I truly do.  But the sinister next step towards their UrsiNation has already begun in earnest.  Phase 3 is here already, readers, and I fear it hastens the end times.  I realise I'm beginning to sound like Kevin McCarthy running down the street at the end of  Invasion of the Body Snatchers, but I feel I must warn somebody before it is too late.

THEY ARE IN OUR HOMES.

Going to your freezer for some food is an innocent enough act, and one that most of us perform on a daily basis.  Even this mundane act has been hijacked by our furry overlords.  Imagine your horror if you opened said freezer door to find one of their minions perched on the top shelf criticising your food choices, a terrifyingly threatening undertone to his voice, staring at you with the unblinking dead eyes of a shark.  How could you dare not follow his demands?  Cap'n Birdseye bravely refused, and now his frozen raked corpse lies moulded against the wall in a freezer room at Birdseye Headquarters.

Pooh and Paddington lie interned within the razor-wire walls of a concentration camp, their spirits broken.  Yogi has become turncoat, betraying his own species by working for the Ursine Secret Police.  The Hoffmeister Bear was amongst the first to be excuted - his sole crime?  Being labelled a race traitor.  The Hair Bear Bunch, Booboo and Teddy Ruxpin are still at large, believed to be involved in the formation of an underground resistance movement ("Bear Force 1"), but there are widely spoken rumours of their imminent capture.

It's not too late to make a stand.  Open your eyes, Sheeple, and let's make a stand against our would-be-Ursine overlords before it's too late.  I write this in the hope that there are other likeminded individuals who realise how far this has gone, and that as mankind we must make a -

What's that smell?  Is that honey?  I'll have to -

There is no bear revolution.  I made it all up.  About your business - as you were.  I'm no smarter than the average blogger.