'Yes, Pixel. What is it?' replied Victor.
'I've been reading that some people are using the term polar bares and I think that's wrong. We are bears after all.'
'Well, I think I'm a polar bear and I think I'm sixteen. I'm not sure about my age though; none of my ten children send me birthday cards. Maybe they don't know we're living here at the Yorkshire Wildlife Park near Doncaster.'
Pixel nodded and continued eating his fish supper.
'You know, Pixel,' continued Victor, 'only the other night I saw the strangest sight. There were eskimos running past the enclosure – at least I think they were the shape of eskimos but they weren't dressed like any eskimos I've seen. In fact they weren't dressed at all. They seemed to be covered in flesh.'
'I knew there'd be a word for it. How come you know about it?'
“I heard from one of the staff that it was an event called Bare All for Polar Bears. I knew it was happening and went to take a look. There must have been around forty of them milling around wrapped in shiny foil. I didn't know what to think.'
'Knowing you, you probably thought Dinner!'
'Anyway I heard someone say they'd raised over ten thousand pounds from the event.'
'Now that is impressive. Where's the money going?'
“They plan to do something for our cousins up in the top of Norway. Some of them up there are threatened by global warming and the loss of the sea ice.'
'Well, Pixel, you seem to know all about this event. Was it your idea?'
'No. Someone from British Naturism wrote to see if the Park was interested.'
'Hm, Pixel. Sounds like someone was smarter than the Average Bare.'
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