I made this hunting-trip to the fjäll region, close to the Sweden border, last hunting season. I was after a bear that had harassed our herds of raindeer, killed many young cubs, mauled and eaten them. I had provided with my tent, rifle and fishing-gear, and planned to spend time in the woods as long as it takes to take that motherfucking, cub-mauling, psychopath shit-for-a-bear down. Time went by, I walked about, ate fish that I caught, some black grouse (they taste awesome grilled on an open fire), didn't see much movement anywhere around. Until one day, just next to a borderline. There it was! Big, smelly, ugly goddamn brown bear, that has fucked with my herd, standing with backlegs, his behind towards me, two hundred meters from where I was.

Now, baby, keep still, don't move, I'm on my way, coming to help you to get rid of your miserable life in this cold goddamned world.

I ducked and sneaked upon him, meter by meter, in the meter-high bushes which scratched my face and arms. I tried to keep calm and make no noice. Bears have great hearing sense, and, what I forgot, their sense of smell is even better than what many dogs do. Of course I was below the wind. Shit!

The bear sniffed the air, then turned right to me and started coming forwards. I grabbed my rifle and stood up, aiming straight to that low-life scum's chest. Twenty meters. I reached for the safety button. Aiming.

-vad fan menar du, saatana finnjävla, tänker du för att skjuta mig, vad, perkele. Vet du inte vem jag är, du skitstövel. (no, it was a really ugly human being picking up berries, some swedish actor I guess, and he's very upset due to my acting there in the bushes).

-ääähmmm, ööööhmmm, nåjaa, nu då den kom på tal, jag gissar att du är.....ööö

-har du någonsin sett en enda storartad, ståtliga svenska polisserien på TV?

-öööhmm....intet jag kunna komma ihåg just nu.... (I put my rifle aside and was abit ashamed)

-du dumskalle, ja är världkänd, den största och den enda, Persbrandt, Mikael Persbrandt! The Aktör! Erinra någonting?

(Shit, I've never seen any swedish movie or serie on TV. And this guy is definitely not the bear I'm after. Angry he is though, and big, and ugly sonofabitch. Mommyyy, I wanna go home!)

-åh, ja, den där skådespelare, jåå, öööhm. (I'm getting mad, I hate actors, no matter who they are, they are so full of themselves, and what's that, their looks, which's been improved so many times by doctors and make-up artists and whoever and finally the cameraman with his magic lenses. God, I should shoot the guy anyway. I'd feel abit better.)

-njaa, det låtar som persepoltto på finska (buttburn), hahahahahhaa, tar ni där er mycket i röven då, vad säger du, Persvako (buttcrack)?

Even though he is a big guy, he moved fast and jumped all over me and started punching and kicking and screaming like he maybe thought real bears do. I struggled my way out of his bear-like hug and rushed over his behind, sticked my fingers in his neck and paralyzed him, just for a moment, that I could figure out what's going on here in these weird Lappland woods.

I hadn't have any sexual activity since coming into here, that means almost a month, and I looked at Persbandts body lieing down under a pinetree on his stomach, making that squeaking and whimpering sound, butt up on the low stump, just suitable for what every man wants.

I took his pants off and fucked his sweaty asshole furiously for that three minutes it took, and sprayed all the cum on his head and clothes. Hey – I had to do something!? Not just waste time there. And his ass was alot warmer than my hand, so why not!?

-nåjaa, rövbränn, nu vet jag Vad du är, trots det ännu inte Vem. Åtminstone du är inte alls en björn. Så jag låt dig vara i fred. Hejdå!

I knew he's gonna be allright in an hour, barely could recall any of what just happened, but fysically ok, so no worries – could an Australian say.

I never got a shot to a real bear. But I know they are, especially male ones, wanderers, so he could be anywhere between Atlantic Ocean and Ural Mountains for now. Since my trip to the fjäll region, no cubs have been eaten by a bear. I must think if there was any bear at all in the neighborhood, maybe it was really that swedish actor who got berserk in the woods and did all that damage to the herd. We'll never find out.

By the way – this story is full fiction and full crap. There is an actor named Mikael Persbrandt, but I've never met him nor wish to. I don't hunt bears nor fuck actors in the ass in the woods.