* POST No. SIX:

CHARLIE GRRR AND THE WAITING ROOM… *

As you may have gathered by now the dates when I post my little musings do not relate to the dates on which they occur. Infact they occurred some while back – not years ago – but some days or weeks ago in some cases. The dates are NOW – in periods when I have time to write – so sometimes, if I get caught up in some pretty pickle or other I get delayed and then lose track of what I’ve been writing…

As you can see – it’s been a few days since I last posted. I have been caught up in all sorts of predicaments over the weekend – but I can’t possibly tell you about them now, but needless to say they were exceedingly exciting and I shall write about them in a while. I’ll say one word – SHY YETI… and leave it at that. You’ll see what I mean, when I reach that point of the story.

Anyway – as of NOW, I’ve got a few spare minutes to post again and pick up from where I was back on Friday morning at whatever god awful time of day I was typey-typing away for your enjoyment. Of course – where we last left the story I’d just entered JASPER GROWL’S SHOP – been dropped through a large trap door in the floor by a rather irritating and rude receptionist called Lucky and found myself talking to a photographer named Neph, who then promptly went and vanished…

As it happened I wasn’t supposed to have been dropped through the trap door and where I was supposed to have ended up was Jasper Growl’s Waiting Room – which is where I will pick up the story. This was quite a different kettle of fish altogether – for as dull and dark as the “Trap door room” had been – the Waiting Room was a place of perfect splendor. In fact I enjoyed it so much that I stayed the night and some of the following day – partly because Jasper Growl was taking so long making my disguise for me and also mainly because I was loving it there…

The Waiting Room was Paradise, basically… Not only was the room full of fine art and colourful paintings, but you should have seen the spread that was being laid on for me as I arrived – all SORTS of pies containing flavours beyond my wildest dreams. (Porcupine and Leek!) On top of that I had never in my life tasted anything quite as delicious as the Parakeet and Broccoli flan which came with an Edam and Basil dressing!! Oh my! The deserts were almost as good and the 12 layer chocolate cheesecake served with a mandarin sorbet was probably the nearest thing to heaven I have and will ever encounter.

What is more there was entertainment! A couple of bears doing stand up – some dancers – singing – theatrics and what can best be described as creative striptease.

All this merriment went on for hours and as the night wore on I was shown to an area where I was allowed to sleep, in probably one of the most comfortable beds I have ever had the pleasure to take shut-eye in.

There was still no sign of Jasper Growl – but right about then I can’t say I was especially bothered. However, eventually, around lunchtime on my 2nd day in the Waiting Room I received a note from one of his assistants that my costume was practically ready…

JASPER GROWL IS PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT YOUR DISGUISE IS NOW READY FOR COLLECTION. PLEASE JOIN ME FOR COFFEE AFTER LUNCH AND YOU WILL BE WELCOME TO TRY ON THE GARMENTS. (BUT WOE-BETIDE YOU IF YOU GRUMBLE AT ANYTHING UNLESS IT’S SO TIGHT IT CHOKES YOU!!!)

I was slightly taken aback by some of the wording at the end of this memo – but I took it in my stride. There was no denying that Jasper Growl ran a rather odd business here – but at this stage I was still extremely glad that the meeting hadn’t been scheduled until AFTER lunch – having enjoyed it so much the previous day…

“Please take a seat Mr Grrr…” called one of the assistants - at first I thought it was Douglas, the cub I'd met before who had made me very comfortable on my arrival in the Waiting Room. However, this one's fur was darker and Douglas wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Mr Grrr - Mr Grrr - please be seated..." insisted this new bear. “Dinner is served…”

I took my seat at the table and stared at the rich picking before me… “Oh…” I said. “Is it the cook’s day off?”

“No!” the assistant looked surprised. “He has his good and bad days I’ll admit and I apologise – yesterday’s meal wasn’t his best – but today he’s back on form… In fact I probably should apologise for the entertainment too – you’ll find it a lot more fun here this dinner time…”

I nodded as the assistant bowed and then scurried away. Obviously his view of what was good and bad was slightly different to mine… For when I described the rich pickings before me I was most certainly being sarcastic. Upon the table was a rather tatty pile of marmite sandwiches covered in wilting lettuce leaves and something which might have been cheese mould. There was soup too – but that looked cold – in fact – to be honest it was so cold it was frozen solid and one of the waiting assistants appeared to have got his tongue stuck to the ice where he’d made the mistake of trying to lick up a couple of croutons on the way from the kitchen. What is more there weren’t ANY pies and not a quiche or a flan in sight and as for the pudding let’s just say that the cream in the chocolate éclairs weren’t so much off as positively crawling out the door and at one point had to be recaptured and returned to the table…

“Not hungry today?” asked the assistant, sounding concerned.

“I had a rather large breakfast…” I lied – infact I’d slept through breakfast and by now I was starving. They were beginning to bring out the entertainers by now – and the first lot they were wheeling out (I mean literally wheeling out) appeared to be a choir of old age pensioner bears who seemed half asleep and were quite immediately proven to be totally out of tune. “I think I’m ready for my after dinner coffee…” I said to the assistant.

“Oh…” the assistant looked a bit disappointed. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to eat some more? Perhaps you’d just like to wait until the entertainers have finished…”

“NOT REALLY!” I snapped. “I really need to see Jasper Growl – RIGHT NOW…”

“Oh…” the assistant was beginning to tire of me in the same way as the receptionist, Lucky, had done so the previous day. “Okay…” he continued – running a paw through his fur to disguise his irritation. “COME WITH ME…” he boomed and checked quickly on his pager. “JASPER GROWL WILL SEE YOU NOW…” he said. “YOU WAIT ‘TIL YOU SEE WHAT HE’S GOT YOU WEARING…” he giggled.

“What? What exactly do you mean?” I called after him worriedly – but the anonymous assistant was already heading away and I had to jog to keep up with him. The grand doors at the end of the room were already swinging open and I was worried they wouldn’t stay open long enough for me to get through…

At last I was about to meet Jasper Growl…

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHARLIE xxx

* POST No. FIVE:

CHARLIE GRRR IS LEFT IN THE DARK... *

I seemed to be falling forever...

In reality it was probably quite a short fall - at least the landing was comfortable - for me, anyway...

"Owww..." I'd landed on something soft that had made a given out a rather loud, indignant cry when I'd fallen on it. "Owww - that really hurt... Would you mind where you're falling next time, please?"

"Oh... Very sorry - are you alright... I couldn't see where I was going... Have I damaged you?"

Silence. Then... "No, no - that's okay..." To be honest I wasn't sure what to do next - I wasn't in the mood for talking and neither, it seemed was the shape that had just spoken to me. So after I minute or two I began to feel bored and so I popped out my Palm Pilot and began to blog away at one of my earlier entries to this site - keen to update you all on what I'd been going through... "What's that light?"

"Sorry..." I apologised. "Is it keeping you awake? I was just writing to some friends... I wasn't sure how much longer we'd be waiting here - I didn't mean to be rude..."

"That's okay..." said my companion a little grumpily - in the glow from my Pilot I could just make out a rather battered looking fellow in a leather jacket - with dark hair and large smiley teeth which didn't look quite so smiley just at the minute. He wasn't a bear - not at all, in fact - just a man. I soon began to find his staring at me a trifle intimidating so I let the light go off again. "You're very calm..." he continued. "For somebody who's just fallen down a shaft into a mysterious darkened room..."

"It's not the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last... I must say I was expecting better hospitality - I don't think much of this Waiting Room - but I suppose it's all part of the top secret excitement of the place... Kills the time whilst they get your suit made..."

"I'd say you know more than I think I do..." said the man. "I've been here ages and I still don't know a damned thing..."

"Oh really?" I replied. "Well, how long have you been here?"

"About two days..."

I must admit I was shocked by this. "Golly - I hope they fed you!"

"I thought they were about to..." replied the man with a slight tremble in his voice. "To one of the bears..."

"Oh..." I didn't know what to say next. "Actually - I am a bear myself, but I promise I won't eat you - not even a nibble... I can't see you very clearly, but I take it you're not one of us... I mean, not a bear... So, why exactly ARE you here - at a bear tailors?"

The man sighed, as if wondering whether my question was some sort of trick or trap. "I'm a photographer and journalist... I came here on a story - all the way from Mexico to write a story about the bear scene - I mean - about the bears and other animals that live in the city..." he paused. "Gentlemen such as yourself..."

"Oh golly... Really?" I was quite impressed and yet also a tad concerned. "So, have you been poking around in places that you shouldn't?"

The man said nothing for a while and then replied. "Not as such..." he said and then went on. "Actually it was the Police - the human police that seem the least keen to admit there is anything other than ordinary folk living here in the city... I even spoke to a group of martians the other day... Very pleasant they were..." he paused. "I think I recognise you - you're Charlie Grrr aren't you? You're very big back home in Beargrrria?"

I must admit for a moment I felt very gushy and proud and I almost hugged the man, but then I suddenly got all paranoid and began to wonder if he wasn't some dreadful journalist intent on bringing down the good reputation of Beargrrria or even worse - the good reputation of ME!!! "I don't know what you mean..." I said at first. "My name is Phyllis Flange and I'm just the cleaner here..." I lied and then realised that I was convincing nobody - not my new friend here and neither myself!! "Okay... I am Charlie Grrr!" I admitted. "But what exactly are you intending to write about - because if it's anything inappropriate then I might just decide that I have to eat you after all!"

"Oh God... Please no... Really, it's honestly nothing bad..." he assured me. "I'm just fascinated by the whole country - I'm a big fan of you too - I even managed to get to see one of your shows... That bit on the last tour where you juggled the Herring - that was marvellous - I never knew Herring could sing!!"

"Very well, actually!" I nodded - now more convinced by his story. "What else did you like?"

"Those exploding grandmothers you brought in... They were very good and those Beavers who thought they were the love children of Shakespeare and Byron - I mean - those two were just plain deluded - they must have been so hard to work with..."

"I managed - they were difficult at first - but I have the knack..."

"I didn't think they'd let me in - but I wrapped up in a fur rug and got front row tickets..." he continued, but my audience were frequently pretty odd looking so there was no way I was going to remember him.

"Well, I'm very glad you enjoyed the show - you must come to another if we ever get out of this damn Waiting Room - how long have you been here - I suppose you'll be going in to see Jasper first?"

"Umm... Probably not - I don't actually have an appointment you see - I was just after finding out some more and I don't think they were very pleased... You do realise that this isn't the Waiting Room don't you? I think this is where they put the people who they don't want to see..."

"REALLY?" I was furious now. "That damn cub on reception... He didn't like it because I had a go due to his shoddy treatment of me when I arrived... Are you SURE this isn't the Waiting Room? Really?"

"Quite sure... When I first arrived there was another journalist, a postman and two milk men - apparently they'd all asked too many questions at reception and gotten dumped down here. They disappeared a while ago - one after the other - I'm not sure what happened to them actually..." he said and shivered. "But if it's any consolation I thought that guy on reception was a rather up himself..."

"He was wasn't he... Well, don't you worry about anything..." I told my new friend the journalist. "I DO have an appointment and I won't have us treated like this Mr... What is your name by the way?"

"Nephtali. Neph for short..." he begun, but I didn't hear much more because I'd started shouting.

"LISTEN HERE!!! I DEMAND YOU LET MYSELF AND THIS GENTLEMAN OUT... I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT - BUT I HAVE AN URGENT APPOINTMENT WITH JASPER GROWL ABOUT A DISGUISE AND THIS FINE FELLOW WILL BE ACCOMPANYING ME TO THE MEETING - HE'S MY NEW PRESS AGENT..." I decided on the spur of the moment. "I hope that's okay with you..." I muttered to Neph and thought I heard a grunt in reply. "IF I'M NOT IMMEDIATELY RELEASED FROM HERE THEN I'LL BE MAKING A REPORT TO THE BEARGRRRIAN EMBASSY TO HAVE YOU CLOSED DOWN... THIS IS APPALLING BEHAVIOUR!?! TURN THE LIGHTS ON NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME? WELL, DO YOU?" I stopped at that point, out of breath. "Let's hope that did the trick, ey Neph..." I grinned to myself.

Before Neph could reply, there came a crackling noise and voice suddenly boomed out in the darkness. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr Grrr - this is Jasper Growl here... I must apolgise for my receptionist, Lucky can rather overreact at times - he can be a tad trigger happy with the old trap door... We do indeed have an appointment and I'm just putting the finishing touches to your disguise now - if you could just bear with me a while longer - my Senior Assistant, Douglas will be there in just a moment to escort you to the real Waiting Room - which you'll certainly find a lot more comfortable... Once again - my very sincerest apologies... I'll see you very soon..." the speaker crackled off and all was silent and dark once more.

"What about Neph here... He's with me... Don't worry fella... I'll sort them out... Are you okay there?" Neph didn't reply - but just then the lights started coming on and for the first time I saw the dank empty cell in which I'd been sitting for the last 20 minutes or so.

"Terribly sorry, Sir..." I could hear a bear calling from just outside a large metal door. "I'll just let you out and get you to the Waiting Room - you must be very lonely in there - I'm very sorry..."

"Not lonely..." I began. "I had company... But it is rather smelly and dark, isn't it Neph?" I turned to my friend. "NEPHTALI?"

The room was empty - there was nobody there but me!!!

TO BE CONTINUED...

CHARLIE GRRR xxx

* POST No. FOUR:

CHARLIE GRRR GETS THE MEASURE... *

Okay, now please don’t laugh…

I did solve matters, but I’m not sure I’m really quite so proud of how I managed it…

“Excuse me…” called the Policeman, I winced as I recognised his voice – of all of the Policemen to bump into – I’d just bumped into Trevor – the one member of the force I most wanted not to bump into. The one member of the force who might just about remember that I was supposed to still be under house arrest back at the Beargrrrian Embassy. “Excuse me…” he repeated. “But you’re parked illegally and are blocking the road – have you broken down…”

Deeley was about to open the door and try and come up with something – but I put a finger to my lips, squeezed myself through the small gap in the glass between the customers side of the cab and the drivers, grabbed a couple of props, ushered for Deeley to hide under the seat and then I opened the door. “Can I help, officer?” I asked.

“What is the meaning of this? I’ll need to see your driving license, Sir! Oh…” he paused when he saw me, open mouthed. “I’m terribly sorry madame!” he continued. “I must have mistaken you…”

I acted upset – there I stood – wearing the permed wig that Deeley had used and rolling my trousers up seductively to show a flash of leg to distract, my face painted powdered up slightly to impress (luckily I’d been eating a Sherbet Dibdab and that had come in handy and I was trying to show as much furry cleavage as possible. It looked like the plan was working – I pretended to cry. “You mistook me for what, Officer? You called me Sir – are you saying I resemble a man? Are you? So I have facial hair issues – so I’m a little more muscly than most women… But a man? I’ve never been so insulted… Here I am – first day on the job and my taxi stalls for just one minute and you’re down on me like a small fat child on a cream cake… This is harassment I’ll have you know…”

“I’m sorry madame – I really am… Have we met somewhere before?”

“I very much doubt it…” I growled – trying to sound as much like a lady as I could. “If you’re always so rude to people I’m sure I’d have remembered you… Now tell me – what form do I need to make an official complaint…”

“There’s really no need for that lady… I can see you’ve had a tough day – do you want to try the motor again… It’s been a really drizzly day – maybe the rain’s gotten into your engine… Let’s just see if we can get you going again and we’ll say no more…”

I stepped aside, content that Deeley was well hidden and Trevor the Policeman, jumped in – turned the key in the engine and, of course – it started first time. “There you go…” he smiled. “All fine and dandy… All you needed was a man’s touch…”

“A what?” I exclaimed. “Are you saying I look like a man again…”

“No madame… No… Not at all… I’ll let you get on now…” As he moved away from the car I made sure he had to brush very closely up against me – just to make him feel awkward (it was rather nice too) “Drive safely – have a nice day…”

“Thank you for your help Officer…” I grinned. “Thank you very much – I couldn’t have done it without you… If there’s ever anything I can do to help…”

But Policeman Trevor was long gone…

By the time I clambered back into the taxi I was exhausted, damp from the rain and feeling ridiculous for having just dressed up as a lady – but at least it had been worth it. “Deeley? Get us out of here will you?”

“What? Okay… Right… Has he gone?” Deeley popped up from under the seat looking as if he’d probably been fast asleep throughout all my recent trauma with the Police – but I didn’t say anything. “Oh – and thank you for helping…”

“Not at all…” I sighed – but hastily begun removing the wig and the sticky sherbet mess.

“I was just looking at the map…” Deeley explained- it was about time. “The place you’re looking for is just around the corner…”

“Good work kitten – let’s go then…” I smiled. “I reckon you’ll get the hang of this soon enough, young fellow – if you get a bit of experience in I might even employ you as my chauffeur if that’s something you’d be interested in…”

“Oooooh yes sir… Most definitely sir…” he purred. “I’ll do everything I can, Sir…”

“Good stuff! Here we are!” we’d pulled up outside GROWL & SONS, BEAR TAILORS, which being so close to Oxford Street I’m surprised noone had ever queried the existence of. “Whilst I’m at it Driver, you wouldn’t know the address of a bar, a restaurant or a club that is good for bears do you? I don’t suppose you do, being a kitten…”

“I’m too young for bars, Sir…” replied the eager kitten. “But I did overhear two men discussing a “Bear Bar” called the Kings Arms just off Poland Street, not far from here!”

I thanked him at this point, noticing that time was getting on – gave him a tip and hoped I’d see him again soon. With a wave, I wrapped my scarf back around my neck and jumped from the cab, pressed the bell on GROWL & SONS door and was buzzed straight through to reception. “Hello… I’m here to see Jasper Growl to be measured up for some sort of top secret disguise… All very hush, hush I’m sure you must understand…”

No sooner had I commented than I was surrounded by a whole host of helpful cubs holding clipboards, tape measures and sketchpads. They came at me like a whirlwind and then disappeared almost as quickly. “Jasper Growl will see you soon…” said a rather tarty looking cub with a bad mullet hairdo and a pair of dungarees. “Will you wait in the waiting room please…”

I must say I was a trifle bemused by the way I was being treated and not at all sure I liked the tone of the young cub’s voice. “Do you know how long he’ll be?” I enquired.

“About 6ft…”

“No – not how tall – how long, in minutes it will be before I am due to meet him…”

“None at all, sorry…” snapped the cub and then turned back to his copy of HEAT Magazine and a plate of cream éclairs.

I was tempted to get really cross at this stage – but I was polite and I didn’t. The room I stood in was painted a rather sickly shade of beige and other than a picture of some pin-up bear above the reception I couldn’t see anything else of note. Whatsmore I couldn’t even see another door or a chair to sit on – not any form of waiting room at all. Getting a little bit perplexed by now I sighed and approached the reception desk again. “I’m really sorry to interrupt your tea break – but where exactly IS the Waiting Room?”

The cub looked up to me as if I’d just insulted his mother. “The Waiting Room?”

“Yes, please…” I replied – almost fuming by now. “You told me to wait in it – but I can’t if I can’t even find it in the first place…”

“Well, did you look?”

“I looked…” I responded, giving him a quick twirl to indicate just how exactly I’d done so. “Lots of beige paint, light bulb, door to the street, carpet, reception desk, prickly and rather rude receptionist – YES, YES, YES – but no Waiting Room… Could you help?”

The cub at the desk said nothing for a second and then smiled brightly, which seemed unusually friendly coming from him. “The Waiting Room is now ready for you – do enjoy your trip, won’t you…” Before I even had a chance to ask, he’d pressed a button on the desk – the floor beneath my feet had opened up and all of sudden I was standing over what can best be described as a rather large hole.

For a moment it was as if I was hovering in thin air. “Well, I never…” I said to myself. “So much for gravity…” – but it didn’t last long - and then, with a large screech, I fell…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Charlie Grrr! xx

* POST No. THREE:

CHARLIE GRRR AND THE TAXICUB… *


Oh, how easily ones hopes can be dashed…

I had big hopes for my future – to actually escape from the Embassy and get on with things - but as usual it’s not quite what I had imagined…

This first post doesn't even involve my meeting with Jasper Growl - that I'll write about tomorrow - this first bit is just about my journey on the way there!! You'll never believe it...

It was after breakfast this morning, that Monday announced that there was a taxi due to pick me up in time to deliver me safely at Growl’s shop somewhere up in the Oxford Street area. “We can’t let you go on the bus – it would cause too much dismay…” he explained – I’d been perfectly happy to travel there myself in some sort of all-concealing raincoat, but seeing as it was actually quite a sunny day Monday wasn’t convinced. “Somebody from TAXICUBS will come and pick you up and deliver you door to door so that nothing can possibly go wrong…”

“I can’t see how anything could possibly interfere with the arrangements!” I assured him.

Of course – as ever – such grand statements always come back to haunt you…

However, at first I thought things were actually going to run smoothly. The taxi from the expected company arrived and Monday waved me hastily inside and we drove off. There was no need for any disguises at this stage, I was told, as the taxi firm were in the know - so I just put on some dark glasses and my lucky silver chain and that was all I bothered with... I was so busy looking out of the window at the autumn colours in Hyde Park that it was only about an hour after we’d left Sloane Square that it occurred to me that something might not be quite right. We’d just driven passed Marple Arch for about the sixteenth time when I decided that maybe I should tap on the window and speak to the driver.

“Driver?” I called out. “Is there a problem… I was under the impression that you knew where you were taking me… I have an appointment at Jasper Growl’s and by the look of the time you’re going to make me late for it…” The Driver mumbled something and nodded from under his large cloth cap – but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying and being a trifle rude as I sometimes can be in these situations I reached forward and pulled the cap off his head. “Speak properly will you…” I told him. “Be clear… Do you know where we’re going on not, please?”

The Driver looked distinctly odd and seemed to be about to hiss at me, but then thought better of it. “I’m rrreally sorry Sir… Grrrrowwwllll! I do know my way – it’s just this is my first day on the job and London’s a pretty big place for a kit-err-a little cub like me!”

I nodded understandingly, “You’ll get used to it – even I can probably direct you to Oxford Street from here and I’m from Beargrrria…”

“If you could give me a little help then that would be very kind of you…” began the Driver and made a few snuffly noises, before nearly driving us into a lamp post, a burger van and a crowd of bratty looking teenagers on the way to cause mayhem. “Damn… Missed them…” the Driver mumbled. “Oooh! I’ve seen the sign to Oxford Street!” he cried loudly and then suddenly began to make a noise deep down in his throat.

“Excuse me…” I exclaimed. “Are you PURRING?”

“No Sir… Not at all Sir…” he replied and nearly crashed into a vicar who appeared to be about to steal a small Labrador puppy from outside of a Starbucks. “I was just singing…”

But he wasn’t singing – I knew that for a fact… “I thought this taxi company was supposed to be run by bears… Nobody but bears and Policemen are supposed to know that I’m even here at the moment… Do you not work for TAXICUBS?”

By now the taxi seemed to have given up the ghost in a side street and was probably blocking the way should anyone want to come down this stretch of road. “I do work for TAXICUBS, yes… But… But… This is my first day and…”

“But you’re not a bear…” I said as I switched on the light in the cab and peered through into the front seat. “Sir… You are a Grey and White Kitten in a bubble permed wig and longjohns… Wearing a Yogi Bear t-shirt doesn’t make you a bear you know… Even giving the occasional beary grunt doesn’t count… What is the meaning of this?”

The Kitten looked like he was about to cry. “Please don’t tell anyone Sir… I need the money and my friend Mac is having a week away in the Isle of Wight so he said I could work his shifts until he got back as long as I didn’t let on to his bosses and made sure I looked as much like a bear as possible…”

“Which you don’t…” I sighed. “Not one little bit… What’s your name, son?”

“I’m so sorry!” whimpered the now quite fearstricken feline. “The name’s Deeley, Sir!”

“Well, don’t look so upset, Deeley – I’m not going to get you into trouble… I just want to make sure we both don’t get killed and that I get to my appointment with Jasper Growl on time… Just as long as the Police don’t arrest you for poor driving and me for leaving the Beargrrrian Embassy… We can sort this out – you just see if we can’t…”

Deeley was looking very pale. Which is saying something for a kitten with an already furry white face. “I think it’s too late for that…” he mewed as a blue light seemed to flood the taxi and a loud siren began to drown out any conversation…

The taxi windows were steamed up but already the law was tapping on the glass. “Ok…” I sighed. “You’d better let me deal with this…” I said. “But you’re going to have to do exactly what I say… Do you understand?” Deeley nodded. A plan was forming but I really wasn’t sure if they would fall for it… Just perhaps if I could be very clever…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Much love!

Charlie Grrr xxx

* POST No. TWO:

CHARLIE GRRR UNDER HOUSE ARREST... *


Really, where on earth did I get the idea that coming to the UK was ever going to be plain sailing!

No wonder Elvis never came over here to tour if this is the sort of greeting he was told to expect!

I’ve been here since Saturday and the only thing of note that has happened since I last wrote is a game of hide and seek I forced poor Monday into, yesterday afternoon. How embarrassed the poor bear looked when he was found skulking inside a large Grandfather Clock by some visiting dignitaries, whilst hiding from me. It was rather amusing though!

To be fair, they have been very good to me here at the Embassy, but I really haven’t time to get caught up such diplomatic intrigues! I’m nobody’s embarrassment, I’ll have them know – back home I’m the pride of Beargrrria! (Ok, so I exaggerate!) But this isn’t the first time I’ve been the victim of such rabid xenophobia – I should have realised when I got turned down for the Eurovision Song Contest earlier this year, having won the initial country heats. We were told we were from a POLITICALLY VACANT Country, which meant nothing to me then, but which I now realise means that Beargrrria is one of those places that they know exists but which they’d really rather nobody actually talked about!

You see, they can’t be coping with a country full of talking bears I’m afraid – which, quite honestly, is rather poor show on the part of the politicians. These days they’d rather hang out at celebrity parties with Bono or Sir Bob Geldof and they certainly don’t want to be seen with celebrity bears! Of course, I’m not the first ever Bear to enter the country – nor even the first talking bear – there are others here but they keep to themselves and don’t tend to court media attention and don’t mix with non-furs…

BASICALLY, THEY’VE NEVER MET A BEAR LIKE CHARLIE GRRR…

You know, the more I think about it the more I realise that we could have won Eurovision – it still sticks in my throat! That was a good band I put together – Los Fuzz Maricon we were called. We had a song called Los Osos Pegajosos and it went Top 10 all over Beargrrria. It was a strong team – me and five bilingual badgers in nothing more than Mexican Hats, lycra body stockings and Ballet Shoes, with a couple of honey drenched gnus on backing vocals. We were sort of Eurorock Performance Art and Elton John was keen to have us at one of his famous parties, only the band split up after we were infested by irate Hamsters during a festival in Portugal – at which point the badgers quit and the backing gnus quite literally exploded on the spot. Last thing I heard two of the badgers had been seen dj-ing in Ibiza with a rather eccentric Porcupine called George.

Anyway – enough is enough I decided this morning – the Police still hadn’t come back to us – so after breakfast I finally spoke to Mr Monday again. “Listen…” I began. “I don’t wish to sound ungrateful but this is really getting to me – I have important business to attend to! I’ve been tipped off about a trio of Armadillos who have formed a boy band which I’d like to manage for a start… They’d go down a storm back home… I have meetings - people to see – art statements to make – salacious tabloid interviews to give and a couple of glamorous starlets hanging off my every word – not to mention my bedposts back at my luxurious new loft space apartment in Soho Square…”

Monday had heard it all before – but he was a stickler for the rules. “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that…” I knew it wouldn’t be and had exaggerated rather to make my point. “These things have to be done properly!” he continued, but I was full of my own ideas.

“Can’t I just go out in a big wig or under a bag or something… There are all sorts down the Kings Road – no-one would give a second look! Let me go to my flat and I’ll check in every day until the Police sort themselves out! I have a splash to be making – an image to play up to… Can’t you just turn a blind eye and then let me escape out a window…”

“I really don’t think so…” sighed Monday. “These offices are five floors up and there are no external ladders to grant a quick exit – you’d hurt yourself Mr Grrr and we couldn’t allow that!” he could see how impatient I looked, but hadn’t finished. “I quite understand how you must feel and it is extremely annoying, but you must bear with us a while longer, please – we don’t want to cause a situation!” I wasn’t so sure, myself – but didn’t want to upset Monday – he looked so serious there in his smart suit and thick lensed horn rimmed specs. “Before you say any more Mr Grrr, I’d just like to add that we have been looking into arrangements which should allow you to leave the Embassy in disguise, by lunchtime tomorrow. You’ll be meeting with Jasper Growl tomorrow for a fitting – he’ll be running you up some sort of costume and making sure everything runs smoothly!”

“He will?” I was quite excited at first. “Really! Jasper Growl – he’s a big name in fashion – I’m impressed! What has he got for me? Viking gear – something chic in black velvet? Sequinned hotpants? I suppose he’ll have his own ideas but it did suddenly just occur to me that the hippy look might work! You know – big kaftan and with all my fur hanging over my face – some beads and lots of hash pipe smoke to conceal my features…”

“Most ingenious, but I don’t think that’s the look he has in mind…” Monday explained. “I think it’s something a little more… subtle isn’t exactly the word I was looking for…”

“Have you seen it already?” I wanted to know… “You must tell me?”

But no – he jolly well wouldn’t. “You’ll see tomorrow…” was all he would say…

And so I must wait – one more day… But this is the last time I wait, mind…

More soon…

Kind Regards and growls,

Charlie Grrr xxx

* POST No. ONE:

CHARLIE GRRR'S GRAND ENTRANCE... *


London's not quite the place I'd always imagined it was going to be...

I'm beginning to see where there might be a problem!

I arrived at Heathrow late yesterday afternoon, 5 hours after departing Beargrrria Airport in my home made Spitfire (made from lolly sticks) - my arms feeling very tired from lots of emergency flapping during the journey. Overall, I was happy - I'd made it! Of course, back home my plans to arrive in London and form my very own "Arts community" was met with much Press attention. I suppose I was naive enough to presume that some of this chatter would have spread over the the U.K., but it rather seems that London doesn't consider such matters of any interest - it's not news! Even when a guy swoops into Heathrow in a plane made from lolly sticks!
I'm beginning to think that compared to life in Beargrrria - life in London is actually slightly backward! Who'd have thought it! After the 60s and all - oh never mind...

I have a lot of work to do here...

I'm probably underplaying things when I say my arrival caused no attention - the airport Police did try and arrest me which excited me for a moment or two - but alas - when they saw me - stepping from my plane they rather lost their nerve, I think... There I stood with my smart ferretwoven suitcases and wearing my dapper Primark brown cordoroy jacket... (Ah yes - we have Primark in Beargrrria too - it's not all steak pies and pasties you know!) and I called out to them. "Greetings from Beargrrria - I appear to have landed a little awkwardly - if someone can just pack her away into a hanger somewhere I don't expect to flying off again anytime soon..."

"Bloody hell..." said one of the Policemen, which I felt was rather an unpleasant first greeting to someone just arrived in the country. "It's a talking bear..."

"Charles Grrr at your service..." I smiled. "Pleased to make your acquaintance... I am rather proud of my english, I must say - self taught you know from reading the sleeve notes of old Kate Bush albums..." I explained, crossing myself as I spoke the name of Her Who Will Be Adored.

"I've never seen the like of it..." said another of the Policemen. "Who'd have thought it? Should we call London Zoo..."

"Now listen young man!" I said and took a step towards them, very close to growling ferociously at the appalling manner in which I was being treated. "A joke is a joke... But I think you will find that my papers are all in order and if you care to call the Beargrrrian Embassy in Sloane Square then I think you'll find that I am not breaking any laws - as for my plane I do have a license for it and that your colleagues in air traffic control were quite well informed of my arrival..."

I needn't go into any more detail of the whole matter but needless to say - all WAS in order and I was hastily driven under Police guard to Sloane Square - where I have been based here in rooms at the Embassy ever since...

The Policeman (I believe his name was Trevor) had a word with the Beargrrrian Ambassador, a very kind gentleman who I know only as Mr Monday. "I realise that things are rather different in your country..." he said. "I realise that where you come from people are used to seeing fully grown bears living their everyday lives amongst everyday folk and that quite possibly - they are in the majority in your country... But it's rather more unusual in London... Also I understand that the bears in your native land have a good grasp of language - especially of English - however you will find that many UK natives themselves - don't even have a particularly good grasp of it - so the fact that YOU DO may seem a little strange to them..."

"I think Mr Grrr is beginning to realise this..." Mr Monday explained to Trevor the Policeman. "But in our country this gentleman is quite a household name - he shouldn't be prevented from bringing his talents to this country... It's quite against all human rights policy..."

"You don't want another war on your hands do you..." I interjected at this point. "I don't think Tony Blair could cope with that now - do you?!"

Trevor the Policeman looked slightly cross, but Monday had interupted again. "I'm sure it wouldn't come to that... But I do think that perhaps something should be done, whether it be via the media or with Police backing so that Mr Grrr can go about his business like anybody else... He's obviously not the only bear working here in the city and I'd be happy to give him some personal advice - but he can't be kept under house arrest for very much longer... Moreover he really mustn't feel that everytime he steps outside he is going to get dragged down to the Police Station or off to London Zoo..."

Trevor nodded - seeming to understand the problem - but he's not been seen since and that was over 24 hours ago... As Monday explained to them - this can't go on forever and I'm beginning to get itchy feet... There is a whole city out there to explore and Charlie Grrr won't be kept away from it for very long... You'll see...

Watch This Space... I shall post more very soon!

Kind Regards to you all back home,

Charlie Grrr! xxx