* 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