Post taken from Reddit, made by u/Zagorath who is likely @Zagorath@aussie.zone here, and transcription taken from u/flippant_gibberish OCRing it on Reddit.

Transcription:

Have you ever watched Animaniacs? Have you ever seen any of the “Chicken Boo” episodes?

We had been playing a campaign for quite some time, allowing us to become high level. During the course of our game, our druid Onar took the Leadership feat after earning the respect of his peers in the Gatekeeper sect. He awakened his animal companion and took him as a cohort. We were somewhat perplexed by Onar’s decision to have the bear take all his PC levels in rogue, especially by the amount of money that Onar spent buying his cohort magic items that boosted the disguise skill.

During a timeskip, Meatfists the awakened bear rogue had resurfaced as Mr. Bearington, a gentleman of high society wearing specially tailored bear sized suits and a monocle. A dandy of few words, he was a respected patron of the arts, medicine, and a known connoisseur of gourmet cooking. His attendance at upper crust functions was expected and though his thick accent often obscured his meaning, it only added to his mysterious allure.

Occasionally though, there would come one of those rare moments when Mr. Bearington’s disguise was prepared below his normal impossible level and a random party guest just happened to have a rare moment of impossible insight.

“Oh, my god! That’s a bear! That’s a giant bear!” Silence would roll through the ballroom. “Don’t any of you see it!? That is a giant bear in a suit!”

The mayor swiftly steps forward: “Mr. Bearington is a pillar of our community and he will not suffer the slander and mudslinging of a nincompoop! Methinks, if you cannot handle your wine you should not partake! Guards, remove this man from the grounds!”

“Why won’t any of you listen! He’s a bear! He’s a beeeeaaaar!” He would yell as he was dragged kicking and screaming from the premises.

“I’m terribly sorry about that Mr. Bearington.”

“Rar. Rararar.”

“I assure you I do not tolerate that sort of behavior.”

“Rar! Rarar.”

"Why don’t we retire to the dinner table? I’ve had the chef prepare an extra rare steak, just the way you like it. Let us dine, we can forget all this unpleasantness, and get down to words on the new opera house.

“Rawr!”