Bruce Willis Is Getting Really Sick Of Posing With The Fucking Raccoon

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Bruce Willis Is Getting Really Sick Of Posing With The Fucking Raccoon

When an actor signs his first fame contract and gleefully accepts the three-hundred blows with an oak paddle that officially initiates him into the brotherhood, no one tells him that in the twilight of his career, weeks of his life will be spent travelling the world to hug a smelly, non-union schlub in a raccoon costume, and that each embrace must seem like the first, joyous clench of fading star and enormous woodland creature.

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