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Polar Bear For Sale Joke

Polar bear's nose picture

Henry passed the amusingly named Petting Allowed pet shop every day on his way to work, pausing to gaze longingly at the array of cute furry creatures, but never quite taking the plunge. Then, one fateful day, he noticed a sign in the window: ‘For Sale. Polar Bear. Ph: 07813 456912’ Intrigued, he noted the phone number down, and later, during his lunch time, called it. After a brief ring, a male voice said, “Hello?”

“Good afternoon,” said Henry. “I believe you have a polar bear for sale?”

“That’s right,” replied the voice.

“A real polar bear?”


“Is it not dangerous?” asked Henry.

“He. No. His name is Jules and we’ve had him since a cub. He is completely tame and house-trained.”

“May I ask why you are selling?”

“He ate my wife’s petunias.”

Henry paused, smiling, and then took the first of three plunges that day. “Could I come and see it, er him?”

“Sure,” replied the voice, and they arranged to meet that evening.

Later, Henry rang the doorbell and was met by a short, bespectacled man.

“Good evening,” said Henry. “Mr Arnolds? I’m Henry Cooper.”

The man nodded and waved Henry in, before leading the way to the back yard, where a young adult polar bear sat sulkily in a cage, examining his paw. Henry looked on with wonder.

“Jules,” said the man to the bear. “This is Mr Cooper. Say hello.”

The bear continued to stare fixedly at his paw.

Mr Arnolds turned to Henry. “He’s sulking, because of the cage, but is normally a delight.” He produced a failed attempt at a winning smile, but none was needed: Henry was about to take the second plunge of the day.

That evening, Henry sat on his porch, watching Jules snuffle around the back garden. He took a reflective sip of his beer. What on earth had the man meant by, “Whatever happens, don’t touch his nose?” Surely the bear was not dangerous? Jules had been no problem in the car, and had downed his meal of fish with almost delicate finesse — he clearly posed no threat. Henry was intrigued.

Jules completed his circuit of the yard and climbed up heavily on to the porch, before sitting down next to Henry and looking at him with big eyes. Henry decided to take the final plunge of the day, and reaching forward, placed an index finger delicately on the bear’s large, black nose.

Jules thundered a roar and stood up to a menacing eight feet, towering above Henry, who dropped his beer in fright before dashing indoors, closing the screen door behind him. Hearing the bear crash through the flimsy door, he ran upstairs to his bedroom and hid under the bed, trembling. Jules pounded heavily up the stairs, sniffing loudly, before entering the bedroom. Then with another roar he lifted up the bed and threw it to one side. Henry lay helpless on the floor, curled up in a foetal position. The polar bear stopped roaring and dropped to four legs. He extended a huge paw slowly towards Henry, touched him gently on the nose, and said, “You’re it.”