A hairy encounter

Don't let his fuzzy wuzzy appearance fool you: We've inadvertently poked a sleeping Ted E. Bear. Here we lay bear the story.

Don’t let his fuzzy wuzzy appearance fool you: We’ve inadvertently poked a sleeping Ted E. Bear. Here we lay bear the story.

The laboratory housed a grizzly attack last night.

Leah Hesla, Fermilab Today editor, was working late when she was attacked by Mr. Ted E. Bear, the person-sized teddy bear known for his seemingly innocent occupation of vacant offices.

Hesla was sitting at her desk when Mr. Bear entered her cubicle and beared his fangs, hurling insults and fluff. She swatted him in his button nose, allowing her to escape (but just bearly), grabbing only the bear necessities from her den.

It was determined that Mr. Bear, having learned that a certain newsletter was undergoing changes, had come out of hibernation to voice his displeasure at the polarizing issue.

“I was here in 2003 when we launched it. This is unbearable and embearrassing,” he growled as he lumbered after her. “Changing the way you deliver news ought to give you great paws, so stop bruining everything. It will turn into pandamonium!”

“Don’t judge it before you see it, Mr. Bear — there’s no claws for alarm!” Hesla shouted, as she climbed up a tree in the atrium. “You’ll still get a weekly newsletter, and even a daily if you want!”

This soothed Mr. Bear fur sure. After regaining his bearings, he silently toddled away.

“Where are you going?” Hesla cried.

“I’m going to the Build-a-Bear workshop at the maul,” he responded.

“Want a hug?” she asked in an attempt at détente.

“No,” he said. “Bears don’t hug.”