The bear one illustrates an old folk tale from Russia...

   There once was a dirty old man named Kashurchek who was known to have a raging foot fetish, especially for the shoes of smelly old women who lived near the Pedoinka Forest.
   One old Pedoinkese hag named Swetlada was getting tired of Kashurchek stealing her shoes every other day for some hot sniff'n'spank action, so she stumped off into the forest to seek out the Baba Yaga.
   After many days journey, she found Baba Yaga's hut and spoke the secret words her old grandmother had told her would gain her an audience with the witch.
   "I have vodka here."
   After Baba Yaga had polished off the bottle, Swetlada broached the subject of her annoying neighbour. Baba Yaga promised to sort the matter out. And Swetlada, satisfied, left the hut and headed home.
   She didn't see the old pervert Kashurchek again, which was just fine with her.
   But one day, while gathering berries beside the woods, a large black bear rose up out of the bushes and lumbered towards her, growling and snuffling. Swetlada dropped her basket of fruit and hauled her old bones up a tree, losing a shoe in the process. She got herself a high perch on a branch and looked down at the bear. She was shocked to see the bear sitting on his haunches with his nose buried in her dropped shoe, sniffing loudly and wetly, in a state of ursine turgidity. Damned if the bear didn't resemble that old nuisance Kashurchek in some way.
   "It couldn't be, could it?" thought Swetlada.
   Just then, over the trees she spied Baba Yaga's hut spinning along quickly on its long chicken legs.
   "Baba Yaga! Baba Yaga! It is I, Swetlada! Help me!" called Swetlada in a high-pitched voice.
   The hut spun towards her tree and stopped a few feet away from her. The bear, lost in orgasmic rapture, ignored it.
   Baba Yaga poked her long nose out of her hut.
   "Did you turn Kashurchek into a bear?" asked Swetlada.
   "Maybe I did", cackled Baba Yaga.
   "Well, he has me trapped in this tree now", pleaded Swetlada. "Can you make him go away, please?"
   "Got any more of that vodka with you?" asked Baba Yaga, fixing Swetlada with her stink-eye and licking her iron teeth.
   "No", wept Swetlada. "I don't have anything with me and I' have even lost one of my shoes to that perverted bear."
   "Sucks to be you", shrugged Baba Yaga withdrawing into her hut which spun away on its stilt legs across the forest.
   And, for all you or I know, Swetlada is still sitting up in that tree today.

          The End


(hope that helps)