Christopher Robin sprang skippity-hop through the Hundred Acre Wood.
Nanny hadn’t figged him that morning so he was feeling extra gay and jolly. He decided to go and visit Winnie-the-Pooh and bring him a jar of Crisco because Christopher Robin knew that bears loved Crisco.
On the way he came across Eeyore and, after wiping it up he said hello.
“Oh, hello Christopher Robin,” he said gloomily. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m looking at this ludicrously huge dildo lying on the ground in front of me.”
“Ummm, no. Not particularly,” replied Christopher Robin.
“I knew you’d be interested,” replied Eeyore. “I’m looking at this ludicrously huge dildo lying on the ground in front of me because while I’m looking at it I’m not stuffing it up my arse. And stuffing it up my arse might make me happy. And I don’t want that. So I’ll just carry on looking.”
“Weird fucker,” murmured Christopher Robin as he hurried along the path.
Before long he arrived at the house of Winnie-the-Pooh and heard a most curious sound coming from inside.
“Fuckmefuckmefuckme…aaawww shit! Fuck! Arngh! Yeah! Shit! Fuck, yeah! Fuck! Fuck me! Fuckme! Fuckmefuckme!”
Christopher Robin knocked on the door.
“Oh, shit….” said a gruff voice from inside. This was followed by a loud ‘schloooping’ sound accompanied by a whimpering screech.
After a while the door opened a bit and Christopher Robin saw the beady eye of Winnie–the-Pooh regarding him.
“Oh, it’s you, Christopher Robin,” said Pooh, opening the door and beckoning his friend inside. “Sorry about the mess. Piglet wasn’t quite as clean as he thought he was when I started fisting him. Don’t worry, I’ll get him to lick it up.”
Christopher Robin didn’t mind the mess. He loved Pooh.
“Let’s all help!” declared Christopher Robin.
And so the three friends spent a lovely hour or four wallowing on the floor playing Pooh Sticks.
Went off to see Owl
Didn’t matter a bit
That they all smelt like shit
As they went to see Owl
Chris pissed over Pooh
Pooh pissed on the Pig
And Owl laid a shit
“What do you want?” said Owl. “I’m very busy, you know.”
“Busy?” said Christopher Robin. “Looks like you’re laying a cable on Piglet’s face.”
“Indeed,” agreed Owl. “I’m busy Thinking. And there’s no better time to have a good Think than when one is having a good Shit. Busy, busy, busy ….. What do you want, anyway?”
“I only came to say ‘Hello’,” said Christopher Robin. “Why do you think I want anything?”
“I’m the most intelligent and noble creature in the Forest,” replied Owl. “People always want something from me.”
Oh, all right,” muttered Christopher Robin. “Can I buy a tinny?”
“I’ll do you a good deal on an ounce,” said Owl.
By the time Christopher Robin and Pooh got to see Kanga they were as high as fucking kites.
“Mine’s blue,” said Pooh.
“What’s blue?” asked Christopher Robin.
“My high fucking kite!” said Pooh.
The two friends exploded in to stupidly helpless fits of laughter.
“Christ on a fuckin’ crutch!” exploded Kanga, suddenly bounding in upon the two friends who were desperately gasping for breath as they controlled their laughter.
“Gidday, Chrisy, gidday Pooza. Fuckin’ hot enough to boil a wombat’s bum, eh? Roo! Spark up the barbie, darl! We got guests!”
“Fuck off, Mum,” replied Roo from inside his mother’s pouch. “I’m playing World of fucking Warcraft!”
“Roo!” shrieked Kanga. “Get out of that fuckin’ pouch before I slap you halfway to Wallamolooba. It’s Chrisy fuckin’ Robin and Pooza here to see us.”
“Strewth!” exclaimed Roo as he scrambled out of Kanga’s pouch. “Gidday Chrisy, Pooza. You fullah’s got any of that crystal we did last Friday?”
“Fuck off, Roo,” said Christopher Robin. “You know I don’t do that sort of shit.”
“Oh, no, of course not …” said Roo with just a hint of sarcasm. “You were totally not high while Tigger and I double fucked you and that heffalump …”
“Roo!” shrieked Kanga. “You don’t need to keep reminding Chrisy about that. God knows we’ve all seen the vid often enough. Now go and spark up that barbie!”
“Sorry, mum,” said Roo, leaping off to fire up the barbecue.
“If you two’ll excuse me,” said Kanga, “I’ll just go and defrost some shrimps and …”
But she was interrupted by a most curious sound. It was a sort of grinding-bouncing sound accompanied by a rather monotonous drone.
“What the fuck’s that?” asked Kanga, curiously.
And the answer came all too quickly as from around Seven Birch Corner came Rabbit...
...who was grinding his teeth, and Tigger, bouncing all around Rabbit.
“Can we, huh?” Tigger was saying. “Can we, can we, can we, can we?”
“No,” said Rabbit, definitively.
“Can we?” continued Tigger, oblivious towards the meaning of ‘definitive’. “Can we, can we, can we, can we …”
“What’s wrong with Tigger?” asked Christopher Robin as Tigger and Rabbit drew near.
“Last night,” sighed Rabbit, “I strapped Tigger down to the bondage table and gave him his first sounding session. He enjoyed it, so I carried on, using thicker and thicker sounds. Now he’s addicted to get his dick fucked! He just can’t get enough!”
“You poor thing,” tutted Kanga. “You must me fucking exhausted …”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Rabbit. “I just came ‘round to borrow a crowbar. And maybe a tent pole.”
“I think,” pondered Winnie-the-Pooh, “that this story has just about run itself in to the ground.”
“I quite agree,” agreed Christopher Robin.