Entry 10: Bounty Hunter

Felice ‘Fatty’ Bearscaglia was a walking contradiction. He was a short-tempered brown bear who was religiously vegetarian. His favourite food was vegan buffalo wings. Ferocious on the outside, he had a strict policy of pacifism and let out his pent-up anger through verbal attacks only. Intimidating at first to weaker animals, the smart ones soon realised he was short-sighted, emotionally soft and gullible. And the Duck was the smartest of all.

When Fatty escaped from a bear park in Italy, he found himself a fugitive who traversed the world, with nothing left but a luxury green scarf. Usually a fat bear (hence, ‘Fatty’) he had lost a lot of weight during his travels. By the time he found himself in a random suburban park in Sydney, he was hallucinating vegan wings everywhere. The Duck spied him from a window of the treehouse and suspected an opportunity. He sent the duck skaters to make the proper queries.

The duck skaters approached the skeletal bear, their blasé attitude overtaken by nerves as they imagined being eaten up. Fatty growled and swore at them but didn’t move from his seat on a log.

“We can get you some food, mate, if you tell us a bit about yourself,” the main duck skater said.

Fatty was silent but gestured obscenely with his paws.

The duck skater, offended, persisted, “Maybe you want some fish? There’s a river by-”

“You quack machine! I’m a vegetarian,” Fatty yelled in a thick Italian accent.

“Oh right, well we can get you anything really! We work for the Duck, and he’s a mathematical genius billionaire. There’s plenty of money to throw around for tasty food treats.”

“Yeah,” one of the other ducks chimed in, “Plus there’s this thing nowadays where you can order food online… if you wanna be discreet...” Because you’re a freakin bear on the loose.

Fatty considered. “What do I have to do in return?”

After some negotiations and a meeting with the Duck, it was settled. Fatty’s day job would be to teach the Duck to speak English – which he had picked up excellently while travelling. Fatty was a better candidate than the duck skaters because of his higher education level. The skaters had street smarts but not book smarts, and the Duck would accept only the highest quality education.

The Duck also assigned Fatty to become his bodyguard (once he had packed on some weight) and – more importantly – bounty hunter. There was much discussion and argument about what the job title ‘bounty hunter’ would entail, given Fatty’s zeal for pacifism. Reluctantly, the Duck agreed to downgrade pursuits after clients in debt from involving “physical coercion” to capture and interrogation. In exchange, Fatty agreed to arm himself to the teeth to scare the target, without actually using any of his weaponry. This aligned with his existing policy of using verbal attacks and an intimidating physical presence to persuade others without violence.

In return for his many jobs, the Duck would recompense Fatty through a lifetime supply of free vegan wings and a hiding place to avoid being caught by the authorities.  

Fatty went to work teaching the Duck. It was slow-going. It had been nearly 6 months and the Duck still refused to speak in English. At most, he would say, “It is necessary to calculate payments through well-chosen equations”. Fatty and the duck skaters’ running theory was the Duck’s immense brain power was being almost entirely channelled into mathematical pursuits, which was his life’s passion. If he didn’t get his priorities straight, he would never learn to speak English no matter how qualified the tutor was. In fact, Fatty realised that languages were his true vocation. Within a couple months, he had learnt to interpret the Duck’s “quacks” in their various pitches and intonations.

Fatty’s English lessons gradually dropped off as everyone became complacent: the Duck continued relying on Fatty and the skaters’ services to translate on his behalf, and they were happy to sit back and profit from the tremendous monetary benefits of his mathematical knowledge.

With time however, Fatty grew bored. He was not doing much, in hiding and overweight from the high consumption of wings. It was time to explore and let out all of his pent-up anger about nothing really. So he was overjoyed when one day, a duck skater approached him about a bounty hunting exercise – his very first one.

After a careful briefing from the Duck, Fatty was led to a secret underground bunker stocked with all kinds of weaponry and accessories, including bandolier belts and nunchucks. On closer inspection Fatty was glad to see they were (mostly) for show and made of harmless plastic.

The skater accompanying him scanned the room, “This particular stock is for your bounty hunting activities.”

“This particular stock?” Fatty yelled. “There’s more?!”

The duck skater ignored the question, “I’m gonna leave you to arm yourself to the brim then I’ll give you the directions to chase the lorikeet, got it?”

Fatty nodded then gestured angrily as the skater turned and left.

Louis had no idea what was coming for him. After his own pursuit after Samson, he was in a strange state of mind. Tired, he took a nap back in his office, dreaming of Samson floating in space in an astronaut’s suit chasing after stray bow ties. After waking with a start, Louis began to pack in a frenzy. He was ready to bolt. Little did he know the Duck had planted his one good suitcase with a GPS tracker. So as soon as he exited with the suitcase in tow, the Duck was alerted.

Louis carried the suitcase with his feet as he flew. It was exhausting work and he stopped several times to take a break. He was in a tree lining the side of a street when he saw something bizarre. It was a massive brown bear growing in sight as it approached from a distance. The bear stared at the lorikeet as he walked steadily forwards. Louis began trembling, taking in all the armour packed on to the bear’s torso. Yes, the Duck had instructed Fatty to stay inconspicuous and out of sight, but Fatty’s love for action movies didn’t allow him to make anything other than a dramatic entrance. It was a matter of principle. But he hadn’t counted on one thing: Louis could fly.

Louis took flight and got away quickly despite the heavy suitcase weighing him down.

Fatty swore and yelled into his walkie talkie, “I need the bird’s next location stat!”

The duck skater on the other end sighed, “What happened, mate?”

“Give me the location, quack factory!”

“Alright alright, just hold on! Okay, lookie here…our mate the lorikeet has descended into that slum, The Café – on Main Street.”

“What’s the name of the café?” Fatty growled.

“The Café.”

“You’re stupider than you look in a pond’s blurred reflection!”

After many minutes of bickering and swearing, Fatty finally understood that ‘The Café’ was the name of the café and made his way over.

Louis was relieved to find Kookie at The Café (returning for dinner). Desperate times called for desperate measures. They had a complicated history, yes, but it had dawned on Louis that Kookie was the only one he could turn to. Time to make some actual friends, Louis thought to himself. It was outrageous his best bet to escape was a scamming kookaburra with the Cwazy Gene.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he tried to explain the situation to Kookie, he didn’t understand the gravity.

“I don’t think a bear has any need to associate with birds.”

Louis wanted to bang his suitcase over Kookie’s head. But then something occurred to him. “Tell me, how is it you were sighted in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia and Geelong, Victoria on the same day? How did you travel so quickly?”

Kookie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “I don’t know what you mean about that! It must be a mistake of the reporters.”

Louis groaned in defeat.

Kookie continued suddenly after some contemplation, “Yes, it must have been misreporting – bad journalism ethics – as it was FIVE countries I went to that day. I know because it was an interesting experience for wardrobe choices.”

Louis’ eyes grew as sharp as knives. “Can you take me somewhere for a holiday, please? Wherever you like! So long as it’s far away.” From the corner of his eye, he saw a bear charging towards The Café. People were running in the street and screams picked up on every side.

“I think we can go to Alaska,” Kookie suggested. “I have a business proposition for snowballs.”

Louis grimaced but nodded, “Lead the way.”

People were ducking under tables and behind counters to hide from the bear about to enter the premises. Amidst the chaos, Kookie waddled over to a nondescript door in a corridor leading to the kitchen. Louis assumed it was an ordinary pantry, but gaped at what he saw when Kookie opened the door.

Kookie glanced down at the suitcase tucked under Louis’ wing, “No suitcase, it will be consumed.”

“Consumed by what?” Louis exclaimed.

But Kookie had disappeared and Louis had seconds to decide whether to follow.