CHARLIE GRRR'S BIRTHDAY SPECIAL - PART 2

Hi, Today I'm posting the second of the versions of how we first met Charlie, last September. Yesterday we posted my version written and today it is Charlie's turn to tell his version of events.

* HOW CHARLIE GRRR MET US!! *
by Charlie Grr, Himself…

Of course, the way I see it, is slightly different – I’m not denying that I’m very grateful for the help, but I do think we’ve all benefited quite evenly from us meeting. I mean, who was Paul before he met me? Exactly! So, you see my point…

It was a most embarrassing afternoon – that day in late August when I popped into TK PAW and didn’t leave for another two weeks. The truth can be told here, that the reason I’d entered the shop hadn’t been that I was in search of some bear socks for my large bear feet – but that in fact I had fallen head over paws with a lovely little furball who’d I’d seen in the shop and presumed was just shopping, like myself. I’d even begun trying to have a conversation with a doll on one of the shelves about possibly introducing me – but all she would say was “Mama” – and I quickly realised that the furball I’d been so keen on was nothing more than a stuffed toy bear!!

But that was just the start of my bad fortnight…

“Hey Sid…” came a voice – it was one of the shop assistants and they’d spotted me. “One of the bears is going walkies – someone must have put some new batteries in him…”

“Don’t be stupid, you fool!” I informed him. “My name is Charlie Grrr and I am a visiting celebrity from the country of Beargrrria… I know your British Education System is pretty hopeless when it comes to proper geography, but for your information, Beargrrria is on the tip of Bulgaria! In fact according to them it’s actually part of Bulgaria – but they would say that…”

But before I’d had any time to say any more – I’d been scooped up by a rather tarty looking member of staff with large hooped earrings and wearing a short skirt and blouse that looked like it hadn’t seen day light since 1973 – or possibly had been hanging in someone’s spare bedroom as curtains. The gentleman in question’s name was Sid and his co-worker was an old lady nick-named “Grandma” who was one of the till-“girls”…

“How dare you cart me around like a sack of potatoes!” I protested – but this did no good at all and no sooner had I growled in dismay than they’d whacked a security tag on me – priced me up at £17.99 and stuck me on the shelf! (The shame of it! Each strand of my fur is worth twice that much!) Still in shock, I didn’t have time to protest, before they’d closed the shop for the night and left me there in the dark with all those annoying stuffed toys.

Over the next two weeks I went through all sorts of trouble! I didn’t have my phone – and I couldn’t reach one without passing through the barriers and setting off an alarm. Each time I did this I got picked up by a security guard who thought someone had been playing with my batteries. I even resorted to trying to get customers to lend me their phones or on one day I tried to thieve one from a passing yob, who I hoped might try to steal my security tag, at very least. Alas he just stole all my clothes…

Of course, I was exceedingly embarrassed to be left naked in the store and I did try wearing a couple of nice frocks that were probably meant for overweight teens! Well, at least they fit me! All the same they were pretty itchy and that darn doll kept teasing me and in the end I got hungry and ate the stupid frocks. They were even less tasty than the foam pies I’d discovered on the first day – which was pretty much my staple diet for those two weeks.

It was on the 9th September, a Saturday – that I caught the first sight of Mr Chandler, little realising that he and Mr Neph were to be my saviours. There I was – scoffing a pie – or maybe half a toy bunny rabbit – but no-one’s going to get me to admit to that… Anyway – over they came and I sort of froze on the spot – and stupidly thought that maybe Paul might scream and call security if he saw me moving about noshing away on the shop’s produce. Part of me did wonder if, maybe they actually worked for the shop in some managerial role. But no…

To be perfectly frank with you I was beginning to go native – it may only have been two weeks since I’d entered the shop, but to me it seemed like much longer. I’d gone from being indignant and wanting to leave, to becoming scared to be manhandled by the security guards. I’d decided to find my own way out – maybe dig a tunnel or go invisible or bungi-jump, which is hard when you’re in a basement department! I’d had all sorts of plans – but the trouble was I was beginning to become used to my new life style – it was bringing out the lazy bear in me and I suppose I simply wasn’t in as much a rush to leave as I had been …

As I say, I really wasn’t thinking straight…

Because I’d been acting so stupidly I lost my opportunity to ask for help and Paul and Neph had moved on by then. I was furious with myself, thinking I’d never see them again, of course! In some ways this revelation shook me into making more of an effort to return to my old life – so I could go back to being the wonderful, charming, talented, furrytastic star I am today!

That night I sat up late trying to think of a plan with only that darn “Mama” doll for help. At one point she did suggest that I dress up like her mum and escape that way – but that girl couldn’t help but bring her mother into every conversation, so in the end I rejected her idea and tried instead to nibble the fire alarm in the hope of causing a distraction, so that I could slip away once the fireman arrived. Alas, I nibbled the wrong wire and set off alarms in a hotel on the opposite side of the square.

Little did I know that this was the hotel where Paul and Neph were staying and that perhaps if I hadn’t triggered the alarm they might have slept more soundly and had a long lie-in, never having had the time to return to the store to rescue me…

Luckily, fate was on my side – fate and a whole load of ill-mannered soft toys with whom I was wedged onto a shelf with next day when the shop opened. I had this little routine after closing time, where I had pretend arguments with the toys – pretending they were old managers or ex-bearfriends with whom I’d fallen out. Each night I had my fake arguments and I’d toss the toys off whichever shelf I choose to sleep on that evening.

“It’s ghosts!” claimed Sidney. “Or poltergeists – or both!”

“It’s your stupid imagination you dingbat!!” Grandma berated him but, of course, it was nothing of the sort – it was me!

I can’t tell you how surprised I was when I saw Paul and Neph in the shop again that morning and how shocked I was when they came over to speak specifically to me. “Are you okay?” they asked. “You don’t look as if you belong here…”

“Well, I don’t!” I explained. “I thought I saw one of my relatives here and the next thing I knew I’d been kidnapped…”

“That’s dreadful!” exclaimed Paul. “What with you being the ultra-famous, fabulous superstar Charlie Grrr…”

Ok – maybe I’m putting some words into his mouth, but I’m basically paraphrasing the gist of things. “You know me?” I enquired modestly. “Little ‘ole Charlie Grrr? I’m so flattered and yet quite embarrassed to hear that! You’re not a stalker are you?”

“No, we’re big fans!” explained Paul. “We know Shy Yeti and we know you often read his poems in your concerts… You’re practically responsible for his success – and what’s more Mr Grrr we think you’re stylish, tremendously talented and marvellous…”

“Why thank you!” I beamed. “But right about now, I’m also naked! Could you get me out of here and get me some clothes!”

“Clothes, Charlie? Don’t you want pies?” Paul asked.

“Pies would be nice too!” I agreed. “But I think the fact that I’m naked is of more pressing attention! I do hope nobody tries to take my photo with one of those camera phones…” Neph assured me they wouldn’t let that happen and so I suggested my idea. “Take me to the counter and buy me and then we can all leave!”

“What a wonderfully clever idea!” exclaimed Paul and even I had to admit I was a bit of a genius. That’s the thing with Super fans – Paul was so glad he could help me, that I’m pretty certain he was crying tears of joy when Neph paid for me. I, of course – was merely grateful – I wouldn’t have cried or anything!

…And so, having paid – we hurried from the store and headed for the pie shop – sorry, I mean – headed to get me some nice clothes and make sure I was dressed! The pies came later! In the end Paul was so insistent that I accepted his offer to go live at his flat and – well, over the months we all became good friends – and so that is how we met and that is how the story goes…

What a privilege it must have been for them to meet me!

Well - that's all for now... Hopefully we'll have some photos from Charlie's party to post up here next week! Bears only sadly - no humans - even Neph and I have to dress in bear suits. The star guest of the party is the bear in the picture below. Who might he be, you'll be wondering? Well - that's Charlie Junior, Charlie's son - and he makes his first appearance in the Mouse of Commons novel GLADSTONE MCWHISKERS AND THE MOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, that I am currently well over half way to finishing...

Anyway - Happy birthday Charlie!!

More soon...

Yeti Hugs,

Paul xx