The Book Of Twisted Tales

The Three Gay Bears

Once upon a time in a forest dangerous and dark
Lived the Three Gay Bears
Their home was decorated pink inside and out
And between them they had no cares

Out for a walk they went each and every day
Always hand in hand
To pick bunches of flowers to keep in the house
And life for them was grand.

One day in the summer while the bears were out
A visitor came passing by
With long blonde hair and a skirt so short it hurt
This visitor was pleasing on the eye.

She knocked at the door once, twice and again
Though answer there came none
But being a little nosy tart this didn’t matter at all
For it just meant everyone had gone

Inside she found the campest décor she’d ever seen
Framed Elton John on the wall
And on the kitchen table next to a pile of pink serviettes
Pink bowls, three in all.

She took a seat beside the first steaming bowl
And burnt her mouth so bad
She didn’t bother with the chair to try the second
And it was cold so she was glad.

By now she was pissed and in one hell of a mood
So she ignored the very last bowl
Instead she pulled out the last chair at the table
And kicked with all the strength in her soul

That bit of destruction had knackered her out
Added to her long walk
She needed to sleep off her bitch of a mood
As there was no therapist to whom she could talk

Up the stairs she climbed in long striding steps
Soon making it up to the top
There in a room she found three beds pushed together
She threw herself down with a flop.

One hour later the gay bears returned home
Feeling randy and rather hot.
When they looked in the house it struck them hard
To lock the door they had forgot.

The damage inside was clear for all to see
A chair smashed to bits
The bears had had this happen to them before
And quite frankly it got on their tits

Without delay they climbed the stairs in a line
Opened the door at the head.
Into the bedroom they crept like intruders themselves
To find the blonde on their bed

‘Ok, Goldilocks,’ the bear said in a quiet voice
‘Get the fuck out now!
We didn’t call the cops the last time you did this
We will this time you little cow.’

The blonde turned over and the bears did see
The bulge inside her pants
‘I’m not Goldilocks, you big dumb gay bear
And don’t you have a lovely stance.’

The bears looked at the transvestite sitting on their bed
And realised their luck was in
They could use this intruder to save their own holes
And all three began to grin

Later that day when the sun went down in in the west
The door the house opened wide
And out staggered Goldicocks who could barely stand
Sporting a glistening red backside

As he disappeared into the woods very slowly
The bears watched him go
One said ‘Should we warn him about the Big Gay Wolf’
‘No,’ said the other. ‘He’ll soon know.’