Freidreich Von Banana Bear, CPA

CHAPTER ONE: An Uneven Tone Throughout

An uneven tone throughout. It was her only criticism of what he had deemed his magnum opus, his “great work.”  She might as well have set the one thousand three hundred and fifty-two pages alight and then thrown them in his face. “An uneven tone throughout,” she had said, as if the article in question had been pieced together from excerpts of the written works of greater-known authors. And so that was that – dream destroyed. Moving on.

The wooden surface of the tree stump before him served as a coffee table and his mail lay on top of it, scattered amongst the magazine spread that looked like something out of the waiting area of a very kinky dentist’s office. A large manila envelope addressed to him stood out amongst the items.

Mr. Friedreich Von Banana Bear

1422 Cherry Blossom Lane

Industry, North America

The return address was the Institute of Certified Public Accountants. Inside were the results of his test but, before opening the letter and accepting his inevitable fate, he wanted to see, just to see, maybe, what, if anything, the woman from Random House had had to say about his novel. Most publishers, he thought, would have leapt at the chance to publish a novel written by an anthropomorphic bear.

Such was not the case. His prose was deemed too “muddled;” the characters were called “unfunny and irrelevant.” The woman, some ridiculous melissophobe by the name of Dana Flores-Lopez, had been kind enough so as to include a checklist of every cliché he had employed in the construct of his novel.

 And so, of course, Friedreich Von Banana Bear accepted his fate and tore into the closing flap which sealed his fate.

“Alas!” proclaimed he. “An accountant! I am an accountant.” Feigning contentment at the prospect of what the future held in store for him, Von Banana Bear let out a mighty grumble, rubbed his belly ever-so slightly, and headed up the branches of his tree-trunk home and into bed.

Sleep welcomed him; in his dreams he was beating down the door to the offices of Random House, roaring and gnashing his teeth, demanding the blood of Dana Flores-Lopez.

And then his idea hit him like a swarm of angry bees after being mistaken for the lovable Disney character. It was a complicated plot, much like that of his novel, and it would take time and patience. He would have to be a patient bear, but it would all pay off in the end.

He was going to apply to work the books at Random House, putting some money aside for himself, just a little, and then he was going to destroy Dana Flores-Lopez and her ridiculous hyphenated double surname.