Pooh Goes Visiting

[HotW Moiraine]

(Pictures from The Book [ not original artwork])

 

 

The sky hung onerous, painted in thick coats of omen-gray as Pooh Bear shuffled tentatively through the forest. A frigid mist saturated the air, threatening to collapse at any moment, and Pooh chuckled nervously to himself. "The mist of the damned," he thought, half-joking. Ironic that this wasn't far from the truth. His head throbbed and his mind bounced from thought to thought, almost dreamlike, though he knew he was awake. That seemed to be the only thing he knew for a fact at the moment. He remembered waking up, he recollected a glint of hunter orange from atop a young oak tree. . . then a flash of blinding white light. The rest was gone, lost in a multidimensional soup of blurred colors and distorted sounds. But for right now, how he got here was of little significance as compared to finding out where "here" was. With a quivering sigh, Pooh continued to walk.

 

 

A couple hours of walking through that forest wears on the sanity. Pooh had been walking for days. Endless miles of trees passed his trek, and if the scenery didn't change soon, he feared he may never regain his former self. He had no sooner thought that, when his eyes captured a new piece of landscape. . . or rather the absence of one. It was a hole. It's blackness and depth mocked Pooh as it reflected the void that now nested where his memory used to be. His first instinct was to pass it by, but his desire to leave this god-forsaken realm had turned him into a puppet. His body froze as involuntary as the blinking of one's eyes. . . as effortless as a heartbeat. Pooh stared in wonder. "Is it an exit," he pondered, as if the woods itself were enclosed, relying on portals to escape. "Or is it an entrance?" An entrance? The thought made him shudder. A room within a room was the last thing he wanted because it could mean only one thing: traveling deeper into this twisted maze. . . this haunting piece of surrealism constructed by some vengeful madman. "This path has taken me nowhere," he argued with himself. "It can't be any worse than what I've been doing." He didn't allow the thought to settle. Before his mind could tell his feet to move, they had already started. He was inching towards the hole.

 

 

The hole was indeed an entrance, and an audible sigh escaped his lips when he saw the harmless rabbit on the other side. He was slightly larger than other bunnies he had seen, and there was something else... something different... something familiar, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Pooh smiled and offered greetings. "Hello there, rabbit." "Master! You've returned," it exclaimed. Pooh frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?" "The prophecy is fulfilled," the rabbit continued. "The Oracle said you'd return, and alas, it has come to pass!" "But I-" "I have your grenade finished, my lord," said the bunny pointing to the center of his workbench. "The time of your rule is finally upon us. We must make preparations immediately. We have very little time." Suddenly, Pooh's face fell numb, and his limbs began to weaken. Quickly, the rabbit snatched a jar from the shelf and ran to his side. "It has already started," gasped the bunny. "Your body is losing strength. We must work quickly before you deteriorate back to your original form, my lord. Your face. It is sliding off."

 

 

Pooh's face hit the bottom of the jar with a wet thud as his body fell limp from the hole. He tried to speak, but it was useless. Slowly, he pulled himself into a sitting position, his mind screaming in agony with each painful inch. His muscles burned, and his veins pumped lightening. His movements were becoming more instinctual now, and the rabbit knew this as he placed the jar in Pooh's outstretched paws. It were as if he had done it before when he stuck his head inside. It was warm. Comforting. He knew that when he pulled his head out, he would be whole again. . . his memories as well. "Master," gasped the rabbit, "it's working! It's working!" Pooh retracted his head, and surveyed the room with his new eyes. It were as if he had just woken from a long nap. In a way, he knew he had. "Squancho, you have been a good servant," he told the bunny. "You remembered my name! It is true!" "I could never forget such a loyal subject. You shall be rewarded, young Squancho. But first, we must consult the Dark Lord and learn of our battle plans. Soon, all shall bow to the ruling fist of Satan and Pooh."

 

 

Pooh didn't have to travel far, for Satan sat waiting outside the hole. "Welcome back, my son," hissed the father of lies. "It is good to be home, my master." "I trust you are ready for the final assault on humanity?" "I have been prepared for two thousand years, father," sneered Pooh. "How shall we proceed?" Satan dropped his gaze to a large book in his lap. "This, my son, is the result of eons of work. Countless thousands of demons slaved over every word to ensure perfection. I myself oversaw its creation, and with your help, this book will bring forth the final corruption of mankind." "What is it, my lord?" "Russell Simmons' Def Comedy Jam the book. Take it now, and ensure its publication. Use your influence in the writing market to advertise it to the fullest extent. Use MTV. Use HBO. Release its wrath onto the mortal plane." "And what is to become of Miss Cleo, Big Brother, and the rest of your creations?" "There is no need for them anymore, my faithful servant. Let the humans do with them what they will. In time, they will be as forgotten as Alf."

 

 

Pooh took the book with a baneful smirk, and set out to complete his master's task. The soft glow of the fading sunset warmed his body as he traveled onward, basking in the security of knowing his true identity. It was all clear to him now... and soon it would be clear to the entire world. And a pig walked with him.

[Pukah]

heh.

[Toy and Minion]

wow x 2

[Dunbar]

read it

 

awesome!

[HotW Moiraine]

Not Awesome nuh-uh >.>

[Mightelove]

Ok, I agree.

[Dunbar]

*nods*

[HotW Moiraine]

Don't read it reaks of Ferrous Sulfate!

[Dunbar]

*gasps in fear*