Mike’s eyes became wide as a full moon, and a chill ran down his spine. There was a massive bear squatting in his living room! Every time the bear moved an inch, priceless porcelain fell out of the cabinet and shattered into tiny pieces. The bear cared not. And Mike cared not how his mother would react to the porcelain shower on the floor.
Mike was more worried about the bear. The saying that hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn, Mike could now confirm, was patently false. Hell hath no fury, Mike thought, like a ravenous bear’s sharp teeth.
The hungry bear clawed at the couch Mike sat on and, in one swift stroke, sliced it in half. The bear bit into a pillow and shook it until the living room was blanketed by fluff. Then the bear moved in for the kill. Mike was the next target.
“Huh? No, stop! Ahhhh!”
Mike thrashed violently on the couch and covered his eyes. He opened them a moment later to notice the couch was once again whole. He took a deep breath and let out a tentative sigh. He was shocked.
“You were playing that hunting video game again, weren’t you?” said Sophia.
“No, I swear a bear was on a rampage in here. I swear. Please believe me.”
Mike seemed to have conveniently ignored that the room was in fine shape. The porcelain platters were fine. The pillow was stuffed.
Sophia considered the evidence against Mike. She saw a large, opened bag of Cheetos on the far end of the couch. As she dragged her eyes toward Mike, she noticed yellow crumbs on his chest. As she glanced at the floor, she saw a large orange hand imprint on a video game controller.
“The bear was here, and we better run before it comes back,” Mike said.
“Uh-huh—sure,” Sophia said, “I think it was just a bear in your mind.”