Dr. Beehive Furhand's Woodbeast Battle Gym

Some may laugh at the sight of a grown main engaging in hand to hand combat with a massive Furbody. But to Hangsack Tootlebeans, a native of You-Tah, combat with a Grizzled Bear is "a good way to spend a Tuesday night."

"Yeah, I've been taking Bear Karate lessons from Dr. Furhands for about two years now. I don't remember much of what he taught me. He usually just growls and snarls until someone brings him a pot of honey. But don't get me wrong, I've learned a lot."
-Hangsack Tootlebeans

It was Dr. Furhand's grandfather, "Ol'" Woodsap Furhand, who opened You-Tah state's first Woodbeast Battle Gym at the turn of the century (1900). Since then, the Firhand family has passed on it's powerful hand-to-hand combat skills to generations of humans and small kids.

We've recently attained some testimonials from customers of the Woodbeast Battle Gym and Bear Karate Centers of the United States:

"I dropped off my son Filbert at a late-night one-on-one training course for youngboys. When I came back to pick him up, Mr. Furhand said he hadn't seen my son come in. What struck me as suspicious was that Dr. Furhand was covered from head to toe in what he claims was raspberry jam. But I suspect it was strawberry jam. Either way, my son is still missing and I'm not sure where to look. It's been six years. I recommend Dr. Beehive Furhand's Woodbeast Battle Gym to anyone who wants the best for their kids."
-Whort Foghammer

"I decided to get my wife Starburst a season pass for Women's Self-Defense courses at the Woodbeast Battle Gym for Christ Day. After her first lesson with Dr. Furhand, she didn't speak a word to me. She just walked in the front door and packed up all of her belongings and left me for good. I got a letter in the mail ten years later (Written on a piece of timber) that said she was very good at Bear Karate now and that her and Dr. Beehive have many, many small Bear/Human hybrid children. During that ten years, I spent many late nights in an empty bathtub, sobbing uncontrollably. I wondered each night if I would finally have the courage to slice open my wrists with the Gillette Mach 3 that taunted me from the corner of the room. I would call my mother for support but she would never answer. It turns out she moved away with my Dad after Starburst and I split. She said the pain of Starburst leaving was just too much for them to handle. A year after Starburst left me I was diagnosed with a level three case of Rup Rup Rup, and now I can't walk on my own. I use a vehicle that I've designed from discarded hunks of watermelon rind and pineapple to scoot my useless body across my apartment floor so I can once again contemplate suicide each night. After my tenth year of being without Starburst, I finally went through with my suicide attempt and now I live at the St. Mork's home for People Who Try To Kill Themselves. When I finally received the letter from Starburst (the one written on the log) I felt my already loose grip on sanity weaken to the point of total loss of control. All of my internal organs slip and relax and a large pile of Rolling Hotballs came out of my pantleg. I also made a spray at the same time. It was terrible. Since then, my doctor said I've been making significant progress. He says one day, perhaps I'll be well enough to walk the snowy meadows of St. Hubbinsberg, the home of my birth. It's where I want to go to die, when the Rup Rup Rup finally comes to claim my tired soul."
-Hibbert St. Garfield