Improv: Marks' "The Black Bear at Closing"

A figure to be reckoned with and a smell like getting used to the chickenhouse next door, she, the bear, takes the elevator to hell with you, and she puckers and wonders where you've been for so long, where the whiskey has gone, what you've done with Jesus down in the hole. The real fire, you say, has been smoldering and has finally extinguished. She, the bear, removes her garments, her fur and burn and love, and blasts you out with her hydraulic system. She's been hiding it this whole time, keeping you close to the Lord. His hands are so cold. Splayed by the numbers, the 1 through 13, you fall to your knees and say Amen, amen, amen.