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 How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]

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Jv100

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PostSubject: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Mon Feb 28, 2011 11:06 pm

How Winnie the Pooh got his Name: Part 1

Ever since Winnie was just a young toddler, he always acted a tad bit differently from the other bears. See, not only did he suffer from a strange mental disorder - likely caused by his father's death - he also had a strange addiction to honey. Not just any honey, either. No, he was addicted to the honey produced from the homicidal bees that made their homes throughout the dark forest. Unfortunately for his parents, this meant daily hikes into the dangerously dense, 100 Acre Wood in order to satisfy their young, growing son's needs. One day, when his father went out on his standard trek to collect honey for his little cub, he was attacked. Well, not exactly "attacked," but what happened next could easily be described as murder.

When Winnie's father began gingerly gathering honey from inside a deadly bee hive one day, a creature approached him from behind, nearly causing him to lose balance and slip - something that surely would have ended his life right then and there. This thing was not only bouncy; it was flouncy, trouncy, and pouncy as well. It jumped, with what appeared to be a tail, from tree to tree, rock to rock, bush to bush in an absolute frenzy of adrenaline. The beast's tongue hung limply out the side of its mouth, drool pouring out as he neared closer and closer to papa bear.

Without thinking, the frightened bear grabbed a nearby rock and chucked it with full force towards the jumpy animal, hitting it directly between the eyes. The thing bit its tongue with pain as blood proceeded to spew out the top of its furry head. Screaming with absolute horror, it continued to blindly bounce and flounce between the trees before eventually giving up and collapsing - his right eyeball now gone. Petrified, Winnie's father ran up to writhing creature, watching with a shocked look on his face as blood continued to gush out between its sticky hair. Picking up another rock, the saddened bear chose to put the pour thing out of its misery, repeatedly hitting it in the face with the blunt object.

Unbeknownst to papa bear, however, this creature he just brutally murdered had a family. Its son had been watching, hidden in a bush, while his father attempted to greet "a friendly animal who looked like he wanted a friend." Sobbing and filled with rage, the bloodthirsty son bounced at full speed towards Winnie's father, hitting him in the back. The bear was launched ten feet in the air before roughly hitting a tree, his limp body now scraped, bruised, and bloodied beyond repair.

The crazed creature advanced upon the motionless bear, using its tail to violently jump against his shins and chest, breaking several ribs and both legs. Winnie's father was now unrecognizable, his face mushed and smashed into a clustered, blood soaked mess. The son refused to stop pounding him, and after what happened to his dad, decided papa bear deserved the same fate. Taking the sharpest, heaviest rock he could find, the animal brought it smashing down against the somehow living face of Winnie's father. The son spat on him, turned around, and screamed "I AM TIGGER, AND YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT - ALL YOU BEARS OUT THERE - YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF ME!"

How Winnie the Pooh got his Name: Part 2

After Winnie's father had not returned to the house on time, his mother waited about two hours before she left the home to see what had happened. Winnie remained by himself. Sprinting through the woods, mama bear soon discovered the body of Tigger's father. All she had to do was follow the bloody trail leading behind a bush before her worst fears were realized. Beaten, bruised, and unrecognizable to any stranger - papa bear lay dead beside a message written in his own blood. It read, "I am sorry. Do what I failed to do. Get the honey for Winnie. And if you see a creature named Tigger, smash his face in with a rock." Obviously, this message was intended for his wife. Sobbing and shaking, the widow did what she had to do; collecting the honey and trudging her way back home. For the rest of their lives, both Winnie and his mother remained scarred by the death of papa bear.

Over the years, the saddened, single mother and fragile son continued on with their everyday routines, trying to repress the painful memories that lay in the past. Winnie's mom courageously gathered honey for him every week, and slowly his addiction became steadily worse. One day, while mama was carefully reaching her hand inside a hive literally surrounded with deadly bees, the "rock" she was standing on began to move. Slowly, she stumbled and fell, landing on her rump. The frightened creature she had originally mistaken for part of the forest was actually some sort of donkey. With a gloomy expression on its face, however, the startled animal ran off. Before mama could call out to it, the bee hive fell graciously from the tree, landing on her lap with a loud thump. She was frozen to the spot, a horrified look on her face as fear rushed through her blood stream.

A buzzing noise erupted from all directions, and faster than the blinking of an eye, bees came spewing out through the hole in the center of the hive. Winnie's mom got up in an attempt to run, but she had damaged her ankle in the fall. Mouth wide open in pure terror, she began screaming with all her might as bee after bee climbed, crawled, and scratched their way into every open hole in her body available. Their needle sharp stingers pierced into her mouth and tongue, numbing her entire face with pain.

She tried flailing her arms wildly in the air, but to no avail. It only made the insects, which apparently had boners - or should I say stingers? - for murder, angrier. They began buzzing around her eyes, stinging the surrounding area with full force. One needle stabbed her directly inside her left pupil, causing Winnie's mother to begin bleeding horribly. She could no longer feel her ears, or even see, for that matter, out of her left eye anymore. She couldn't talk, only mumble, as wave after wave of the raging beasts continued attacking her throbbing face.

Suddenly the buzzing around her stopped, and she simply lay on her stomach, unable to move. Slowly, the aching bear tried to crawl her way back home. This, once again, only angered the bees further. The buzzing erupted again - causing mama bear poop with fear - and the beasts flew faster than a predatory animal straight up her -blam!- (this, my friends, is why you don't go around wearing nothing but a shirt). She cried with pain, feeling the insects squirm and sting the inside of her poop covered bum. Deciding she could no longer live with the pain, she grabbed a nearby rock, and with her numb, shaking hands, began smashing it into the top of her head. Blood splattered all over the trees and ground, a puddle of it beginning to form underneath her limp body. Winnie's mother was dead. All she had wanted to do was help her only son live life the way he wanted, and she died for it - just like her husband had.

How Winnie the Pooh got his Name: Part 3

Back at home, three days had passed and the scared Winnie had already devoured what remained of his honey. He knew something had happened to his mother, and he didn't care either. Remember when I said his addiction had grown stronger? Yeah, I wasn't lying; honey was literally all he cared about. After resorting to eating his own feces - which he actually blended into a liquid and peed on to at least look like the dense, yellow substance he craved so voraciously - Winnie realized he had had enough. Grabbing his honey jar, he opened his front door. The event that would eventually become his most repressed memory was about to be initiated.

He found his mother dead, a large trail of blood flowing from her body and over to a fallen bee hive. Inside, Winnie knew, rested an absolute bonanza of the sticky substance he had hiked out here to collect. He took one step, and heard a splat. Looking down, he discovered his mother must have pooped upon death... At least that's what he thought. He scooped some up with his finger, licking it smoothly off. Tasted rather good, actually, most likely because he had grown somewhat fond of the thick feces he had lived off of for days. Inching closer to the fallen hive, Winnie searched the cracked object for any signs of bees. An entire family was squirming around inside, trying to rebuild their dilapidated home. He had a plan. Little did Winnie know, however, that Tigger had been watching him this entire time from a nearby shrub. Instead of attacking, Tigger waited to see what would happen.

Winnie squatted down, his teeth clenched and face contorted. He started squeezing, and slowly but elegantly, his clunky poop began slipping its way out through his cheeks and into his open hand. The foul stench reached his nose, and he smiled with delight, knowing that the smell must be what is keeping the bees away - otherwise they would have attacked on sight. Winnie clenched his fist, and the poop came gushing out between his fingers. Meanwhile, Tigger watched in disgust, but wonder; he might actually like this sick-minded bear after all. Driven only by the thought of honey, Winnie took as many clumps of his dead mother's poop, as well as his own, and smeared into one gigantic glob. He clapped his hands, sending fecal matter all over his body and the area surrounding him. Rubbing it all over himself and smudging it between his hands, he knew he was ready to fight the beasts who had, until this point, been so watchfully looking over the precious honey.

Kicking the hive, Winnie began to back up as the bees, though hesitantly, came zooming out the hole in a desperate attempt to defend their property. He advanced, waving his arms wildly and thickening the smell of crap throughout the air. The bees slowed their buzzing as Winnie marched forward, flinging clusters and clumps of his own excrement towards the horrified insects. Tigger quietly watched in amazement - it was actually working! Sweat trickling down from his furry brow, Winnie violently swung and hammered at the pack of bees until they were forced to abandon their home. He chased them further, closing them in against a river. The beasts reluctantly crossed, forever leaving the 100 Acre Wood.

Winnie the bear had avenged his parent's deaths at last, and won over the honey they had both spilled their blood for. Filling his jar, Winnie began his walk home to the tree he had lived in all his life, unknowing of the fact that a strange creature had been watching the entire incident go down. Tigger decided that, instead of killing this animal he had actually come to like, he would simply tarnish his name as a silent form of revenge. He had already killed his father, after all. "You know," the bouncy animal said out loud, "I may even get to know this 'Pooh Bear.' He seems like the kinda fella I can teach to bounce!"
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 12:28 am

That has tarnished my childhood to the nth degree (whatever that means).

But more importantly, why did I read the whole thing?!? "o_0
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 12:47 am

I don't know, man, but I guess I should have warned you about the severe mental trauma this story causes. Say goodbye to your childhood, because I just wiped the floor with it.
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 12:17 pm

Beware. Once you've read it, you can't un-read it!
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 4:19 pm

'Kay, JV...

What the fuck?
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 6:05 pm

So I take you liked my little tale, then?
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PostSubject: Re: How Winnie the Pooh got his Name [Short Story]   Tue Mar 01, 2011 6:13 pm

I took out my "happiness" by drowning a litter of puppies.
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