Ah, ursus terribles chocolate rage. Not unlike pregnant woman donut rage.
One of my most vivid memories as a reporter is seeing them descend upon
pastry shops late at night, husbands in tow. There they stood, bellies
basking in the glow of donut display case lighting. "That one...that
one...two of those...that one..."
"Umm, honey...?" he might venture.
"THAT one...three of THOSE..." she would continue, undaunted.
Dasn't come between her and her confections.
===
Lex
===
...a Griz got in my neighbor's refrigerator (on his porch) and ate five
pounds of chocolate...He wrapped a rope around the fridge to keep the door
closed and the next night he heard a ruckus on the porch and the bear had
come back and tipped the fridge over and was jumping up and down on it in a
fit of rage...
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