So these two bears walk into a bar. The older of the two says to the bartender, "Oy! Barkeep! Bring me son a brew here! For today, my little boy bear has become a man bear!"
The bartender pours a glass and slides it to the smaller of the bears. "Congratulations, lad! Must be a special day for ye!"
The smaller bear sips the foam from his glass and grunts an "Aye," followed by a wet belch.
His poppa thwaps him one behind his left ear. "Men bears don't behave in such a rude manner!"
His cub excuses himself, then slurps away at his glass.
Then, as the barman wipes the counter, he can't help but ask, "Excuse me, I can't help but ask, Mr. Bear-"
The father bear silences the 'keep with a raised paw. "Please, dear barkeep, there is no need for formalities here. My friends call me Roy."
The barman continues with a gracious smile. "Okay then, Roy. My question is, what exactly constitutes a bear's trek to manhood?"
The old bear leans back, pulls a pipe from his pocket. Looks to the 'keep. "Do you mind?"
The bartender smiles, "Not at all," and pulls a box of matches from his pocket.
The bear takes the matches, "Thank you, kind sir," and lights his pipe. After laying the matchbox on the counter, he sucks in a good headful of smoke and puffs it back out. "Would you be so kind as to make me a martini? Dry as a bone, if possible?"
The barkeep smiles politely and fixes the bear his drink.
The little bear, finishing his beer, looks to his father. "And another on-the-tap for me son."
The barman serves the bears their drinks. And looks at the father bear as he sips his martini.
After letting out a satisfied sigh, the bear politely inquires, "I'm sorry, what did you want to know?"
The 'keep repeats, "What is it the constitutes a bear's trek into manhood?"
The father bear stares at the man, a look of confusion washing over his face. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question."
The barman, stacking glasses, explains, "Well when we in the human world enter the world of manhood as it were, it is signified by puberty."
The father bear nods, rubs his bear chin. "I suppose it's similar to that for bears as well. Except with bears, there are ancient rituals."
The barman inquires, "Such as?"
The father bear puffs his pipe. "Well, for some bear clans, they have these rituals called Mitzvahs. Other bears pass down an inheritance to the emerging man bear. Other bears get their own cave, et cetera et cetera."
The barkeep nods. "So what kind of rituals must your bear son endure?"
The father bear finishes his martini, wipes his lips. "Well in my clan, we have a weeklong set of trials our cub must endure."
The barman is intrigued. "A week of trials, you say?"
The father bear nods. "Seven trials over seven days. Typcial tribulations he will have to face as a man bear. Say, would you mind fixing me an on-tap?"
The barman pours the bear a brew. "On the house."
The bear grins, "Cheers."
The barman clears the counter of the empty glasses. "So if you don't mind my askin', what kind of trials must the cub face?"
The father bear sips his beer. "Well the first day of the trials found my intrepid cub trying to acquire a driver's license."
The barman's eyes light up. "A driver's license? Really?"
The father bear nods. "Obviously I'd had him practicing at home for weeks, so he passed the test with flying colors. The second trial found him obtaining a wallet to put his license in. The third involved him obtaining a video club card. The fourth, a library card."
The barman stares at the bear, quite unsure of what to think.
The bear puffs his pipe and continues, "The fifth trial was a little trickier: He had to successfully apply for a loan from a bank despite his lack of credit rating and assets that were applicable as collateral. I was a little concerned about this one, but he ended up pulling it off, thanks to his cunning and ingenuity."
The younger bear finishes his glass, gleams at the barman.
He refills the mug. "So what were trials six and seven?"
The father bear took another puff of his pipe. "Six finds him in the woods, using only his wits and surroundings to survive."
The barman seems confused. "So you take away all that he has worked so hard for over the past five days?"
The father bear shrugs. "What good are such things if you cannot even survive in the wild? He did fine however. He concocted some sort of salmon-honey pie for nourishment and found a nice broccoli top to sleep under."
The younger bear grins at his accomplishment.
The bartender, amazed and fascinated by these strange trials, stares at the father bear. "Roy, I implore you, in this strange sequence of events, what on earth could merit the seventh-day trial?"
The father bear puffs his pipe. "Why it's quite simple really. On the seventh day, the cub must get out of paying a bar tab."
The barkeep looks confused. "Excuse me?"
The two bears get up to leave as the barman shouts, "Oy!"
The father looks back at the barman. "Are you really going to confront two bears over a thirteen-dollar check?"
The barman thinks, smiles, then chuckles. "Happy birthday, little bear man."
The smaller bear smiles as he heads out the door.
His father tips his hat. "Good night, kind sir." And heads out into the cool spring night.
The barman stares out the door after the pair for a moment, then clears the glasses.
"Good night, Mr. Bear."
The Moral of the Story: "Bears will say anything to get out of paying a tab, the cheap furry bastards."
