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The Cookie Carlton Story
Contributed by: Kevin Johnson on 1/26/2008

The sad and strange saga of a Bear Wrestling Champion... A made for TV movie in print ... a tale about heartbreak and redemption that will tug at the souls of even the most cynical of jerks... an epic ode to an American legend in four parts...


Part I
It was a dark day for Cookie Carlton. The year was 2000 aught 7, the month was July and the day, the 23rd, and the local legend had hit rock bottom, and hard. He awoke that fateful summer morning to the harsh realization that he was 5 months late on his rent and was being evicted.

Carlton's landlord, Chavez Stevens, had showed up that morning and found the once luxurious 3-story house with a kitchenette he had rented to Carlton earlier in the year to be a sty. There were empty boxes of Ivory soap and stacks of Mad Magazines strewn about everywhere, windows were broken and covered up with old pizza boxes, on the couch sat a live goat with a tag around it's neck that ready "Chappy", which was in blatant violation of the lease Stevens had Carlton signed before he moved in, a lease which clearly stated that, "there shall be no farm animals inside the premises". But Cookie Carlton had never been one for rules; in fact he was a bit of a rebel and played by his own rules... he was good looking to boot, which made him irresistible to any woman who looked at him.

As Chavez Stevens berated Carlton that morning for a variety of lease violations, Carlton rose from his bed, which was actually a piece of carpet laid on the floor, stretched his 6' 7" muscular frame and ran a hand through his untamable flowing brown locks; Carlton scratched his tanned hairy chest, which rippled with muscle, flexed his guns let out a yawn, which sounded more like the roar of an adult male lion. Carlton grabbed his landlord by the back of his weak little neck and threw him through the last unbroken window, where he landed in a heap on the ground three stories below.

"You've got one week to get me the rent Carlton!" Screamed the injured Stevens, "You think just because you are a legend in these parts I won't have you put out on the streets? Well think again!"

And with that shrill outburst, Stevens drug himself over to his '87 Datsun, his shattered legs trailing behind him.

Carlton watched the scene from the shattered window with a slight grin on his face; picked up one of the larger shards of glass and had breakfast. As he chewed up and digested the windowpane piece by piece, picking slivers out of his bloody gums with a 19-inch Bowie knife and finishing off the last bar of Ivory, he thought about the course of evens that had lead him through the heights of fame, the subsequent fall from grace, and depending on how the jury found him (Stevens had pressed battery charges on Carlton before, and was likely on his way to the Police Station to file once more) a possible attempted homicide charge.

A single tear shot like a bullet from Carlton's muscular tear ducts through the open window, fatally wounding a bald eagle. His belly let out a mighty grumble behind an 8-pack of rock hard abs, and he knew then and there what he would have for lunch. He also knew then and there what he had to do to resurrect his once fabled career, which has given him a Bunyon-esque mystique. He called for his manager Gimly O'Shea, a 4'3", one-legged Scotsman from the old country, who was asleep in the next room.

"Gimly," bellowed Carlton, "show yourself!"

"Whadda you want Carlton? It's six o'clock in the morning, and me old bones don't agree with this bitter o' cold weather," said O'Shea.

"It is three in the afternoon O'Shea," said Carlton, "also, it is July ... we have been asleep for a long time O'Shea, and now it is time for a sleeping Cookie to awake."

"Do ya mean...?" said O'Shea, not able to finish the thought, which was so horrible O'Shea would later hit himself in the head with a hammer in the hopes that he would forget it had ever been suggested.

"That's right," said Carlton, gazing thoughtfully outside at his goat Chappy, who had wondered out to sniff the dying bald eagle, "call Gizmo's people...it is time for the rematch."

Part II
The first time Cookie Carlton faced the 8-foot grizzly known as Gizmo, he was at the height of his game. The year was 2000 aught 5 and Cookie Carlton was the five time undisputed bear wrestling champion of these United States of America, having disposed the likes of Spuds the Black Bear, Gladys the Giant Panda, Lazy the Sloth Bear, Shifty the Sun Bear, and Craig the Asiatic Black Bear. But Gizmo the Grizzly Bear would be a challenge, the likes of which Carlton had never seen.

Gizmo the Grizzly had already sent over 30 challengers to their untimely graves, and left several mothers and wives openly weeping in the streets, cursing the heavens for letting their lives entwine with men who wrestled wild bears for a living. Gizmo was not only a bloodthirsty wild beast, she was also trained in three different types of martial arts, and had served three years as head of the Secret Service before getting caught up in the metaphorical zoo that is professional Man Vs. Bear death-matches. Gizmo was a trained killer, but none of that nonsense phased the headstrong Carlton, who accepted the Gizmo challenge without a second thought and then promptly went out on a weeklong soap bender.

A week later, Carlton awoke in a daze. He had logged himself inside the slide at a Taco Johns and had no idea how long he had been there, but judging from the line of kids stuck in the slide behind him, he guessed at least a few days. He managed to free himself by flexing his mighty biceps and splitting the slide in half. He made his way home and was told by a very irritated O'Shea that he had only 15 minutes before his fight with the fabled grizzly, known only as Gizmo, and wondered where Carlton had been for the past week. Carlton dusted the cobwebs out of his head, put on his lucky porkpie hat and his favorite pair of boxers and told O'Shea, "mind your own business, that's where I've been!" and finishing off the last of 7 meat and potato burritos.

The battle was billed as Beast vs. Bear, as it was assumed by his massive size and ability to eat 60 pounds of raw meat before vomiting, that Cookie Carlton was more beast than man. Over 100,000 spectators were expected to be in attendance, though only 200 or so bothered to show up. Bear wrestling was quickly losing its allure, what with the Xboxes and PS2s becoming all the rage.

As Cookie Carlton entered the ring and saw the sparse crowd, he could no longer ignore the downturn of the bizarre sport that had made him a quazi-famous celebrity and he retreated inside of his head and thought of simpler times, back to the year 2003 to be exact. A year when the hearts and minds of the nation were still a buzz with exciting visions of a bear mauling a grown man to death; much simpler times when the cost of the war in Iraq had barley reached $200 billion and George W. Bush declared that the mission had been "accomplished", Britney Spears still had a full head of hair, SARS was deemed "contained" by the WHO, and the world had only just heard of a pesky CIA operative named Valerie Plame; days when Professional Bear Wrestlers were still heroes in the eyes of little boys and girls all over the nation, and he had still had the world in the palm of his hand.

As far as professional bear wrestlers went, Cookie Carlton was the cream of the crop. He had a six figure deal with Arby's, a shoe contract with Adidas and a line of Cookie Carlton action figures that were wildly popular with kids ages 7-12 and male adults ages 26-45. He had been a 7-time guest host on Late Night with Conan O'Brien, won an MTV Europe Award, and was a two-time finalist for the Noble Peace Award in Physics. He had been featured on the cover of magazines ranging from Cracked to The Atlantic, and was the subject of two Friar's Club Roasts, hosted by Jim Carey and Bill Gates, two of Carlton's closest friends. But like the fate of bear wrestling as a sport, Carlton's own fortunes had begun a downward spiral, and the darkness at the end of the tunnel was fast approaching, and even the cocksure Carlton could no longer ignore it.

The Professional Association of Bear Wrestling was quickly going bankrupt, as was the fickle fortune that Carlton had amassed during his years of success. He had spent most of his wealth on lawn furniture that was set up and went unused, and Cookie Carlton never seemed to be able to get enough bubble gum machines. But the real kicker was when put his last few thousands in a business venture that seemed like a surefire money maker but, because of naming and product issues, never quite got off the ground: Cookie Carlton's Whole Wheat Chocolate Covered Sugar Biscuits.

And so Cookie Carlton stood in the ring in front bear wrestling's few remaining fans, that would no doubt forsake the sport entirely with the release of a hot new video game called Guitar Hero, a broke and broken man, staring down the end of a metaphorical gun barrel representing both his career and the innocence of the times in which he lived and wrestled bears. He was about to receive the beating of a lifetime from a bear that, for reasons and means Cookie Carlton could never quite fathom, had mastered Kung Foo and was a personal friend and bodyguard of President George W. Bush.

A single tear shot once again from Carlton's muscular tear ducts, costing a mother of three sitting 20 rows away with her children temporary sight in her right eye.

Part III
To say Cookie Carlton received a beating the first time he faced the 8ft grizzly bear known as Gizmo, is to say that my uncle Remus enjoys a cocktail every now and then; an egregious understatement.

A more accurate way to describe the carnage that happened in the ring that fateful afternoon in 2000 aught 5 is to say that it was a blood bath, pure and simple, from start to finish. Carlton could never find it in himself to get it going and get into the fight by any means, not that it would have mattered. To anyone who happened to be a spectator at the event, or watched the subsequent highlights on the Sports Center later that evening, there was no doubt about who the better fighter was. Gizmo threw Carlton around the ring like a rag doll, and landed sidekick after sidekick to Carlton's ribcage and sternum. Gizmo bit and Gizmo clawed like the bear he was, but in addition to standard raw and aggressive "when bears attack" moves, he countered with a heavy dose Shaolin Bear-Foo that left Carlton with a badly crushed face and caved in windpipe, due to the repeated chops and jabs to his face and throat. When Cookie Carton went down in the 7th round, he did not get up and Gizmo was awarded a TKO. The only discernable damage Carlton was able to do to Gizmo was plucking the bears eye out in the 7th and final round as he before he was pummeled to the matt with a vicious bear-slap, and left with stains in his wrestling thong that he couldn't explain.

It would be the last time Cookie Carlton would enter the ring for two years.

As Carlton stood there looking out the window as Chappy ate the bald eagle Carlton had planned to eat for lunch that very afternoon, he vowed that this time would be different. For the first time in his life Cookie Carlton would train for a fight; he would not rely on his natural brute strength, which left even the most casual observer with no doubt that Cookie Carlton was born to fight bears. No this time Cookie Carlton would be prepared.

As Cookie Carlton trained during the month leading up to the fight, he always kept his eye on the prize. More specifically, he always kept Gizmo's right eye, the only souvenir left from his days at the top of the bear-fighting world. Carton attacked his workouts with a new lease on life and a renewed vigor that surprised even Carlton himself, but most of all it was a shock to the very soul of Carlton's manager Gimly O'Shea.

"Blimey Cookie," O'Shea exclaimed one afternoon after Carlton benched 500 pounds 32 times. "If you had worked this hard before, you could have wrestled O'elephants, or O' zebras even."

Zebras, O'Shea imagined, being the most vicious creatures alive, "what with all those O'stripes and all."

As the day of the fight approached Cookie Carlton was a work out machine. He did sit-ups while he ate and leg presses while he slept. He had both nightmares and daymares of being slaughtered once more by the grizzly bear Gizmo, bursting into cold sweats and slipping into the occasional fear-coma. Carlton pushed himself farther than any mortal man should push himself, and then he pushed himself further. He vowed that he would do the slaughtering this time. With every rep, sit-up, curl, protein shake and raw egg, he vowed that he would kill Gizmo or die trying.

Soon Carlton was in the best shape of his life. He was primed and ready for his one shot at redemption and it seemed as if nothing could stop him from attaining it.

Nothing, except the tragic death of Gimly O'Shea.

Part IV
O'Shea had fallen victim to one of the oldest tragedies in the book, Scurvy, and was breathing his last breaths in Carlton's arms.

"Seriously Gimly," wailed Carlton, "how can you get Scurvy in this day and age? There is enough Vitamin C in the sauce on one of these pizza boxes lying around..."

Gimly, smiled at Cookie, which was quite a gruesome sight, as the scurvy had caused his gums to degenerate and most of his teeth to fall out.

"You know I hate vegetables," said O'Shea with a cough and a sputter, "I tried oranges once...didn't care for them."

"You fool," said Carlton, "Even one glass of orange juice a year could have saved your very life...but you always were a stubborn old mule."

Cookie Carlton held Gimly O'Shea like a baby in his massive arms, caressing his face, which was as smooth as a freshly shorn monkey; O'Shea had never quite reached puberty.

"Promise me one thing," said O'Shea, reaching up to touch Carlton's face, his breathing becoming more and more shallow, "promise me you will do the right thing, when it comes time to do the right thing... oh, and always eat your vegetables, or at least have a couple of Flintstone chewables every now and then... Scurvy is a Pirates disease..."

And with that O'Shea died. Cookie Carlton held the fragile body of his former manager, roommate and Scrabble partner, and wept bitter tears for a period of half an hour, five of which found their way into the head of Carlton's beloved goat Chappy, killing him instantly.

In the hours leading up to the fight Cookie Carlton was a jumble of nerves and slightly gassy. He headed to the ring with a heavy heart and looked to his corner, where O'Shea had been throughout the course of Carlton's meteoric rise and fall from fame and realized that he was alone for the first time in his life. Across the ring from him was the grizzly bear known as Gizmo, with his usual entourage of 35 people behind him, including his girlfriend, the famous socialite Paris Hilton who rubbed Gizmo's belly and assured him over and over again that he was "hot".


Gizmo had a patch over his missing eye, which caused Carlton to remember his late manager's last words, "Scurvy is a Pirates disease". He also remembered the words O'Shea uttered right before his last words, "Do the right thing when it comes time to do the right thing." Cookie Carlton looked across the ring at his sworn enemy, the towering, patch-eyed grizzly now doing pushups with Paris Hilton sipping a bottled water on his back, and realized that seeking vengeance upon a famous bear would not solve his problems. Cookie Carlton's fight was not with the grizzly known as Gizmo, Cookie Carlton's fight was with Cookie Carlton.

Nobody is sure what happened to Cookie Carlton after he left the ring that afternoon; boos from the crowd reigning down upon him, Gizmo's handlers restraining the bear from following Carlton into the parking lot.

A few weeks later Gizmo received a package at his Beverly Hills mansion containing his missing eye, which was reattached in an intensive 35 hour surgery later that day, for which Gizmo was forever grateful to Cookie Carlton for the rest of his life.

Some say Carlton is now living in Mexico and has become a prominent figure in the Chiapas movement. Others say he currently resides in the Jungles of the Amazon and is known to local villagers as the great "Manbear", and still others say he works part time at a Taco Johns in Reno. But none of this is certain. All that is certain is that when Cookie Carlton left the ring before his heavy weight revenge rematch with Gizmo a heavy weight was lifted from his spirits, and those in attendance who looked closely saw many tears of redemption flowing freely from his softened tear ducts and running down his chiseled face.

For the first time in a long time Cookie Carlton cried and no one was wounded.









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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Kevin Johnson

Denver , CO

Kevin Johnson has posted 15 stories and 0 comments since joining on 4/9/2007. Kevin Johnson's average story rating is 5.
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