Forget hiding. Just eat the Becan.
Simples.

So, in that case, "OBE" stands for "Out of becan" ya?

I posted this yesterday, but my post appears to be having an Out Of Forum experience.  I don't know what happened, so I'll just post it again.  (If something doesn't work, keep doing it, right?)
 
Anyway, I got back inside my body the other day.  I noticed right away that something was different.  You know that feeling you get when you walk into the house and you know something is wrong, but you can't put your finger on it?  Other than the times you realize you're in the wrong house, I mean.  Well, it took a few minutes, but I finally figured it out.  A bear was hibernating in my body.  That's right.  A bear.
 
We growled at each other at first.  I yelled at him to get out and he roared at me.  He knocked over furniture and scattered empty spray cheese cans all over the place.  I threw some tennis balls at him.  He caught them and started juggling.  Pretty weird, right?  I mean, what was I doing with tennis balls?
 
He apologized for making a mess and for eating all of my spray cheese.  I said I was sorry for waking him.  There was an awkward silence.  He told me his name was Gunter and he just needed a place to crash for the winter.  He said his cave was too hard, the bed at the Motel 6 was too soft, but my body was just right.  I admit that I was a little flattered.  I mean, how often do you hear someone say, "I'd like to use your carcass as a sleeping bag?"  (Okay, some might hear that more often than others.)
 
I explained that this was my body and I needed it.  His jaw dropped open in surprise.  He said that he had thought this body would be a good one to use since no one would be likely to want it.  I admitted he had a point, but insisted that it was all I could afford.  He looked around and commented that the body appeared to be very spacious and had more than enough room for both of us.  He also said that I had stored up enough to last for many winters.
 
I said he could stay if he stopped his commentary.  What can I say?  He's right, of course.  So, Gunter is going to spend the winter here.  That's okay, I think.  It probably won't make much of a difference. 
 
On an unrelated note, I've recently developed a passion for warning people that they are responsible for preventing forest fires.  There's a nagging feeling that I need to go into the woods to do something.  I enjoy laying on the floor in front of the fireplace while people warm their feet on me.  This morning, at breakfast, I had a strange craving for porridge.
 
It's good to be back.

Welcome back to the physical world, UB.  Welcome to the CH, Gunter.  Any craving for honey, yet?  Be careful, we don't want he hear any reports of you going through the neighbors' trash cans for food.  The animal control officers might tranquilize you and drop you off in the middle of the forest.  Then you'll have to walk home.  

Just another furry story