This was forwarded to me by one of my friends at St. George Medical school this
afternoon. - Drakir
I think you should read this:
POOH GOES APESHIT
By A.A. Milne
Everything was rather quiet in the hundred acre wood. The trees
whispered
toeach other as the wind rustled their leaves. Under a large oak
tree, there
lived Pooh bear. From inside Pooh's house, there came a steady
bang...bang... bang!, that was making his honey jars rattle on the
sideboard. The light came through the window, and in the evening sun
Pooh
raised the axe once more and brought it down on the tattered remains
of
Christopher Robin. "Why...won't... he...fit..." puffed Pooh to
himself as
the axe came down once more. There was a small pile of earth, and a
hole
next to it, which Pooh had hidden with his favourite rug. Christopher
Robin, selfish prat that he was, didn't quite fit in the hole Pooh
had dug, so
instead of making it wider he had decided to hack Christopher Robin's
legs
off. "A far more sensible idea", thought Pooh, and hummed a little
song to
himself as he cut the last tendon and rammed the rest of the body in
the
hole, finally covering it up with the rug. "Always too bossy",
thought
Pooh,"Always too bossy, always grabbing me by the paw and saying
'Come
on Pooh lets have an adventure' or 'Pooh you are silly!' in that
affected
cutesy
spoilt brat voice, and his stupid little shorts - bastard!"
Pooh had waited all afternoon for Christopher Robin to come round,
humming
a little tuneless song to himself whilst gazing blankly into the fire
and
fondling the oaken handle of the axe. When C.R. had finally turned
up,
squeaking in his child-actor voice "Come on Pooh! Open Up!", Pooh had
answered the door normal as anything, talked about the weather, and
then
went to the cupboard and fetched the axe. While C.R. had sat there,
prattling on about what a silly bear Pooh was and how he had very
little
brain (which wound Pooh up no end) Pooh had raised the axe high and
brought
it down with a satisfying thud on Christopher Robin's skull, cleaving
it
virtually in two, with just some muscle fibre in place to keep the
pieces
upright, and freezing C.R's eyes wide in horror that Pooh, lovable
Pooh,
could do such a thing! Pooh giggled a little and wiped some saliva
from his
mouth with a shaky paw. Then Pooh, calm as anything, had mopped up
the
blood, washed the axe and begun to dig the hole.
Piglet had wondered why Pooh had not called for him that morning, to
have
his tea and biscuits, and so he decided to visit Pooh instead. He
admired
the evening sun, blood red, and listened to the birds singing. Pooh
watched
him get nearer and nearer, and plugged in the drill.
Piglet had no time to realise what had happened - the drill pierced
his
skull, sending a beautiful fountain of blood all over Pooh's orange
hide.
He rubbed the blood in and all over himself, licking, licking, always
licking.
Then he pulled Piglet inside and put him in the cupboard. The syringe
lay
on the sideboard, and Pooh picked it up, paws shaking and sweating,
and filled
it full of solution of the funny white powder that had been given to
him by
a strangely spaced-out Rabbit. It was a strange effect at first, and
Pooh
thought he had seen many strange things, but then experienced a
euphoric
feeling of power. It made him irritable, and C.R. and Piglet had
everything
that was coming to them, no doubt at all. When night had fully
fallen, Pooh
dragged the bodies out and buried them in a makeshift grave.
"Adios, dear 'friends'", Pooh giggled, "Things are going to change
around
the 100-acre wood now I'm in charge" he laughed hysterically and went
indoors.
The next day Tigger and Roo made their way happily to Pooh's house,
to see
if he knew where C.R. and Piglet were, as no-one had seen them since
yesterday. They were sure Pooh would know, as he had had tea with
Piglet
yesterday and was meant to be playing Pooh-sticks with C.R. in the
morning.
When they reached Pooh's house the door was wide open and Pooh was
nowhere
to be seen. Tigger and Roo looked inside Pooh's house and noticed a
large
hole in Pooh's floor and a notice was stuck on the wall with a large
blob
of congealing honey "OWT CHAGIG THE DRAGGN" (spelling had never been
one of
Pooh's strong points). "That's odd", though Tigger, "there are no
dragons
in the 100-acre wood only heffalumps. What _is_ that silly bear up to
now?"
Not even Tigger would have imagined what Pooh was up to at that
moment.
That morning Pooh had woken with a splitting headache and a rather
snotty
nose.
So he had taken a large dose of the white powder and a little while
later
had a brilliant idea! He left the house with a container marked
INSECTICIDE
in big red letters. He took the container and went to Eeyor's
favourite
patch of thistles.
"This will serve that manic depressive donkey right" laughed Pooh
aloud,
"always cheating at Pooh-sticks, cheats never prosper", Pooh said to
himself. Then he hid behind a tree to watch the unsuspecting Eeyor
eat
himself to death - sheer poetic justice thought Pooh as he dumped the
nearly dead body of Eeyor in the same grave as C.R. and Piglet -
"Shouldn't
cheat
should you?", shouted Pooh as Eeyor's eyes stared with disbelief -
"You're
lucky I didn't chop you up into little bits and feed you to Tigger!",
laughed Pooh manically, before he covered the makeshift grave over.
Pooh didn't return to the house until dinner time as he was totally
spaced
out all morning. So when he returned to his house he was in an awful
mood
and all he needed to make him absolutely mad was the sight of Tigger
and
Roo bouncing up and down outside his house singing "bouncy, bouncy,
fun, fun,
fun, fun, fun, the wonderful....". "'Wonderful'?", thought Pooh
aloud, "My
foot, you'd think the writer of this shitty story could think up
better
lyrics for a song than that, and to think, they released the
soundtrack
album on cassette and CD; a lot of people are going to get ripped
off."
This lightened Pooh's mood somewhat, but the respite was brief.
"What was that you said?", asked Roo. "God does he never stop asking
pathetic questions?", Pooh thought furiously, "I'm going to have to
deal
with these prats as well. Is there no-one in this place with
intelligence
apart from me?" Pooh asked despairingly."
Pooh felt himself extremely lucky as Roo had to go home for his
afternoon
sleep and that left Tigger at his mercy. Even better, Tigger
suggested that
himself and Pooh go and play Pooh-sticks; Pooh had smiled slyly as an
idea
formed in his overactive brain, and agreed - "What an opportunity",
Pooh
whispered to himself as he followed the innocent Tigger to the
bridge.
Once on the bridge, and the rather pointless game of Pooh-sticks was
under
way, Pooh thought he'd much rather push his stick up Tigger's arse,
rather
than throwing it into the stream. Tigger was leaning over the side of
the
bridge looking for his stick. So he did not see Pooh's wide horrific
grin
as he outstretched his arms and moved toward Tigger with the intent
of pushing
the stupid cat into the stream - "Cats hate water, tee hee, he'll
drown."
There was a loud splash as Tigger hit the water and started to
struggle as
his head was covered by water, he gulped and choked. Pooh was holding
on to
the rail of the bridge and jumping up and down with excitement and
was
joyously shouting at the drowning Tigger.
"Why?", spluttered Tigger as he slowly started to turn blue with the
cold,
which Pooh found hysterical, after all a blue Tigger?? How absolutely
silly.
"I'll tell you why you bastard", screamed Pooh, "It serves you right,
hiding behind doors and jumping out, and scaring the shit out of
people." But
Tigger did not hear Pooh's answer as he was already floating
downstream
face down in the water, dead - "Good riddance", laughed Pooh, and
looked at
his
watch, "Still time to get that little dick head Roo before he wakes
up."
Pooh sneaked to the sleeping form of Roo's mum and saw Roo's ear
poking out
of her pouch - "Now I've got you, you little git", Pooh thought,
smiling,
as he threaded a needle with extra strong cotton. He was jolly
grateful for
Piglet's sewing lessons now, because he would be able to sew up Roo
nice
and tightly, so he would not be able to get out and his mum would not
be able
to rescue him. So very slowly and carefully Pooh began to sew Roo
into his
pouch and thereby suffocating the annoying idiotic twit. After the
deed was
done Pooh made his way back to his house wondering how Roo's mum
would take
the death of Roo. Badly, hoped Pooh, as he began to cough
uncontrollably
andfelt general nausea overcome him.
By the time Pooh got home he had puked up several times and was very
desperate for some more of the white solution. He trembled as he
picked up
the syringe and gave himself the remaining amount. An awfully large
amount,
one might say, for a small little bear like Pooh. In fact too much,
Pooh
died of an overdose, but he died with a smile on his face: he was
dreaming
that he was the only teddy bear made with a willy and dreamed how he
surprised Eeyor one day - but that's a story for another day.
----------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed!
Drakir
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Richard Jones
jonesr@gatwick.geco-prakla.slb.com
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"We are the New Breed,
We are the Future."
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