The Silly Ol' Bear Septology
and Episode VII

 

 Episode I
(which the movie is based on)
The Revenge of Winnie the Pooh
In which Pooh and his friends assassinate Christopher Robin

 

Episode II
The Return of Pooh
In which a Terrorist terrorizes the Hundred Acre Woods and we meet the Crew of the Star Destroyer Bandanna Banana

 

 

Episode III
The Umpire Strikes Back
In which Pooh dies, is reincarnated, and we formally meet the Umpire

 

 

Episode IV
The Disney Conspiracy
In which Disney tries to take over the world after years of merchandising and bad movies

 

 

Episode V
Not In the Book
In which Disney and the Umpire join forces and we meet the crew of the USS Dallas

 

 

Episode VI
The Siege of Hundred Acre Woods High Command
In which the Umpire besiege the Hundred Acre Woods High Command building and "something just kinda happens"

 

 

Episode VII
Six Pine Trees On the Edge of Forever
In which Pooh and Piglet travel through time and we are further confused by temporal mechanics

This book is a work of fiction and is presented as parody. All characters, plot and situations are of products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Under no circumstances should this book prevent you from buying the products of the fine companies who are mentioned within. Disney is probably not trying to take over the world.

None of this book is intended to instigate or support treason against the United States, I know it might not look that way, but, do me a favor and not try to make war against the US.

Written 1996-2000 and it shows.

Edward Bear sat licking the bottom of his empty Hunny Brand Honey jar. Christopher Robin had not replenished his honey supply in over (gasp!) ten minutes.

Just then, Christopher Robin burst into Pooh's house without even knocking.

"Take cover!" he shouted. "It's World War III!"

Pooh dove under his bed. "The B-52s are attacking!" he shouted. "Nucular detonation! The Hundred Acre Woods will be irradiated for the next five thousand years!" He gasped and hugged his honey jar. It shattered, the shards becoming lodged in his fur.

Christopher Robin smiled, "Just a joke, Pooh-Bear."

"What, you lying son of a bi--"

"Please, Pooh, this is a children's story."

Pooh scowled. Then he gave Christopher Robin the finger. "You got the cargo?" He raised his Compression Phasor Rifle. " . . . or do I have to blow your freaking head to hell?"

"Chill out, Ice-cube." Christopher Robin raised his hands in surrender. "I got your Hunny."

"Don't call me Ice-cube! You can't just use any ol' hyphenated name on me!" Pooh deactivated the safety on his Phasor Rifle. "Where is the Hunny?"

"Just a joke, Ice-cube . . chill out."

Pooh did not find this amusing. "Get the Hunny."

Christopher Robin pulled out his concealed phasor, and stunned the disgruntled bear.

Pooh wasn't able to pull his trigger fast enough, and the phasor beam shot out while he was on his way down to the floor. The phasor energy impacted the ceiling and the cheap plaster came falling to the floor.

"Eat phasor energy, Lower Mammal Scum," Christopher Robin smirked. With Pooh out cold, Christopher Robin stole all of his money and left.

"So, what you're saying, Pooh is that Christopher Robin brutally attacked you and stole all of your money?" Piglet asked, hearing Pooh's dreary story.

"That's about it."

"That's horrendous!" Piglet handed Pooh some steaming-hot tea. "Want an ice-cube?"

"No!" Pooh stepped back and tripped over a bottle of Canar.

"Pooh, Christopher Robin will pay for this outrage." Piglet want to his weapons locker and tossed a Phasor Rifle to Pooh, who was now drenched in putrid Canar. The extreme alcohol levels in the liquid burned off all the fur on his legs. Piglet was an alcoholic and preferred only the most potent beverages.

Piglet put on his battle armor and emptied six more phasor rifles into a Ninja Turtles lunch box. He then slung it over his shoulder.

"Let's go," he said in an uncharacteristically deep voice. His breathing was heavy and loud. In fact, it wasn't Piglet at all, it was one of Piglet's insane friends, Darth.

"Sorry, Darth, I can't help you destroy the Rebel Alliance today," Piglet said to the masked man in the black cape.

"Piglet, I am your father," Darth began.

"Nice try," Piglet tapped his comm badge. "Scotty, beam him up."

Darth disappeared in the ripple of a transporter effect.

"Impressive," Pooh observed.

"No time for admiration now, Pooh-Bear." Piglet gestured to the Batmobile that was sitting right in the middle of his living room. "To the Batmobile!"

They wasted no time getting in, since Piglet's alcoholic beverages were already aboard.

The rocket ignited, and they shot through the wall and down the road toward Tigger's house.

"Piglet, do we really need the rocket?"

"Hey, who's driving?" Piglet sipped some Canar. "You . . . or me?"

"Me?"

"Try again, Pooh-Bear."

"You?"

"Good. Your learning."

Pooh smiled. "I didn't forget everything after the lobotomy."

When Pooh and Piglet got to Tigger's house, they found him jumping up and down on his tail like an idiot. Shaking a jar of peanuts above his head, he was saying, "Heffalumps beware--"

"Easy, Tigger, it's just us," Piglet said calmly.

"Sure there aren't any heffalumps following you?" Tigger inquired, slowly lowering the jar of peanuts.

Pooh was grinning. "Positive."

Piglet, too, was grinning. "Actually, there were a few . . ."

". . . but we blew their heads off," Pooh finished.

"I am most gratified to hear that," Tigger assured Piglet and Pooh.

Fearing that the plot would take an inconvenient turn, Piglet and Pooh hastily filled Tigger in on the present condition and their intentions. Tigger was overjoyed at the opportunity.

"You mean we get to kill him?"

"Yup," Pooh and Piglet said in unison.

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Tigger jumped into the Batmobile with Piglet and Pooh.

With that, they sped off toward Eeyore's house.

"What do you mean you won't help us?" Piglet demanded of Eeyore.

Eeyore thought for a second. "I am . . . uh . . .um . . . observing my seven millionth day of being depressed."

"Well . . . Okay, but you should really get help or some ritalin," Piglet responded as he restarted the Batmobile. "Bye."

The Batmobile's tires spun twice before Eeyore was left standing in the dust.

Everyone else came to help them assassinate Christopher Robin, although they weren't as heffalump conscious as Tigger.

The Batmobile was filled with passengers beyond its capacity and the engine was strained. But, It had somehow managed to get them to the edge of Christopher Robin's estate. Pooh and company had just gotten out, when the Batmobile exploded.

"That wouldn't have happened if it had had Ion Drive," Pooh noted.

Gathering behind a dense bush, Pooh noted that Christopher Robin didn't seem to notice the explosion. However, he was wielding a mean looking disrupter pistol.

Roo had seen quite enough -- he didn't like disrupters because their handles were covered in kangaroo fur. He stupidly climbed to the top of the bush, where Christopher Robin saw him and easily picked him off. Roo and the Bush were vaporized.

Pooh dove behind a nearby hill. Piglet, Tigger, Owl, Kanga and rabbit landed next to him.

"So, what's the plan, Commander Pooh?" Kanga asked.

"It's Eeyore's birthday!" Pooh shouted. A barrage of disrupter fire shot over their heads.

"Pooh, the matter at hand," Owl suggested politely.

"Oh, yes." Pooh observed the disrupter fire. "Get down!"

Everyone flattened themselves on the ground. A huge anvil flattened Kanga even more.

"Now, where do you suppose that came from?" Owl asked no one in particular.

Pooh ignored him, jumping up to the top of the hill. With his phasor rifle, he took aim and FIRED. Phasor energy streaked out from the emitter.

Just when the beam got within two inches of its intended target, Christopher Robin erected a Borg force-field.

"What now, Pooh?" Piglet asked.

Without answering, Pooh began to pick up the anvil that had fallen on Kanga. "A little help?" Pooh grunted. Piglet rushed over to help, Owl, Tigger and Rabbit already grabbing onto the corners.

Swinging the anvil forward and back, Pooh said, "Release on my mark."

The anvil swayed back and the forward. "Now!" Pooh shouted.

The anvil soared through the air like an eagle with a lead weight around its neck. Directly above Christopher Robin, it began to drop, squish-squashing him like a bug and making a very satisfying crunch sound.

Christopher "The Animal Abuser" Robin was dead . . . or so they thought.

Edward Bear stood on the podium at the front of the auditorium. He was giving a speech about "The Great Christopher Robin Hunt." So far, no one in the audience had tried to assassinated him yet. Actually, they listened intently to Pooh's exciting narrative.

" . . . And so, when our weapons were rendered useless," Pooh addressed the crowd, "we threw a huge anvil at Christopher Robin. It hit him, and I quote, 'squish-squashed him like a bug.'"

The audience paused for a second to see if there was anything more. When it was clear that he was done, they burst into wild applause.

However, it was short lived, for in the far corner of the room, a pipe bomb detonated.

The roof began to buckle; a huge rafter fell directly in front of Pooh's nose.

Over the chaotic screams, he heard an unfamiliar voice. "It's all right. It's just a terrorist attack."

Everyone yelled louder.

Beside Pooh, Piglet, was ushering Tigger, Rabbit and Owl put the door. He looked around for Eeyore, but he didn't seem to be around. When he had gotten Owl out, Piglet gestured to Pooh and said something unintelligible. The gesture, at least, Piglet knew, was the universal sign of honey.

To Piglet's dismay, Pooh didn't see him, and wandered off toward the opposite door. Using his Enhanced Pig Powers, he closed the door in the exit that Pooh was walking through. The door hit Pooh and sent him flying into Pooh's waiting arms. Pooh smashed into the weakling pig and he and Piglet bashed into Darth.

Darth always wore a black cape and a weird mask. Pooh figured that he just couldn't accept that Halloween was over. But, then what was that stuff about being Luke's father. Pooh just didn't understand him. Come to think of it, neither did Luke.

Darth helped Piglet up. "I have an Imperial shuttle waiting in the parking lot." He pointed to a dot on the horizon.

"Gee whiz, Darth. Why'd ya park on the horizon?" Piglet asked.

"I felt like it," Darth explained.

On the way to the shuttle, Pooh had a very out of character intellectual discussion with Darth.

" . . . So, if you increase the magnetomic flow through the interior plasma conduit, the thrust from the ionic ejectors would be increased by point 000000000000000000000000000000001 percent. Our speed would be increased by almost two nanometers per hour.

"Really?" Darth was clearly fascinated by Pooh's intimate knowledge of Ion Drive. "Where'd you learn that?"

Pooh straightened out with self pride. "Common knowledge."

Piglet slumped his shoulders in disappointment. Just the fact that Pooh was too stupid to know that he was mocking Piglet was depressing.

When they got to the shuttle, Darth keyed the encryption code into the lock and the door opened. Piglet and Darth walked right in. But, Pooh had gone to the rear to admire the Ion Drive. It ignited in Pooh's face.

"Sorry," Darth apologized. However, he did not deactivate the engine so Pooh could get into the shuttle. Instead, a tractor beam pulled Pooh to the roof and braced him there.

The shuttle took off. Pooh barfed. The shuttle gained more and more altitude as the air got thinner and thinner. Pooh was now gasping for breath. Finally, they left the Earth atmosphere. Pooh was annoyed that he couldn't breath, but he couldn't admit it. He was zero gravity barfing.

Inside the shuttle, Piglet realized that he had left his wallet in the parking lot. They began their reentry.

Back outside the shuttle, Pooh's barf was boiling. Pooh, himself was displeased at the amount of slapstick that this story had. He was also barfing. I knew I shouldn't have eaten that Soy-Based Honey Substitute, Pooh tried to think.

When the shuttle got back down, Piglet realized that he had had his wallet with him all the time. Pooh took advantage of the opportunity, climbing off the roof and going into the interior of the shuttle.

"That was cool!" Pooh said to Piglet once he had gotten in.

"I'm sure it was."

After they left the atmosphere, the shuttle docked with the Star Destroyer Bandanna Banana. They were greeted at the airlock by Admiral Sheit. "My lord. This is an unexpected pleasure. We are honored by your presence," he said.

"Dispense with the pleasantries, Admiral Shit."

"Sheit."

"Whatever. Set course for the Beta Omicron Beta system, maximum warp."

"Sir? The Beta Omicron Beta system?"

Piglet had never heard of the Beta Omicron Beta system. Frankly, he didn't care. "Prepare to land, Admiral Shit," Piglet ordered in the sternest voice a Very Small Animal could use and still be cute enough for someone to cater to his need.

"Sheit." The admiral was not amused by the running gag. He also had no idea how you land a Star Destroyer. "We cannot. The Bandanna Banana was not designed--"

Pooh grabbed the admiral by his collar. In a gruff voice, he said, "Listen to the pig, Shit."

Admiral Shit -- I mean Sheit -- backed away. "As you wish, My Lord."

In the Hundred Acre Woods, Owl was just giving power to his security system when he heard a deep humming. Owl assumed it was just the fallout from another one of Pooh's nuclear bomb experiments. Dismissing it, he returned to his tedious work.

Just then, Owl realized Pooh was on the Bandanna Banana. He looked up, and saw a peculiar black dot growing larger and larger. Owl went into his house and got out his telescope.

At first, Owl didn't see anything. So, he took the lens cap off. Still, he couldn't see any thing. So, he decided to look through the small end, instead. Now, he saw the dot. Focusing on it, he could see that it was the Star Destroyer Bandanna Banana. And it was landing.

Admiral Sheit obeyed the order even though he didn't know how. Star Destroyers don't land, he wanted to say, because they don't. But, one doesn't second guess Lord Vader's friend's friend.

Leaning over a console on the bridge, he wondered why he even bothered. The helm officer had complied with the order to land, but, if they did success fully, Sheit was afraid the mammoth vessel might tip over. The Bandanna Banana had no landing gear.

"Sir!" Operations Management Officer Cerrap called from his station. Admiral Sheit frowned and walked to him.

"What is it, Cerrap?" he barked. Then he said it in English.

"There's been an explosion in engineering," Cerrap answered. "A pipe bomb. The same kind of explosive as the one that detonated during Winnie-the-Pooh's speech.

The terrorist was aboard.

"Admiral Shit!" Damage Control Officer Stu Pidd yelled from his station, far on the other side of the huge room and one level up.

Shit -- I mean Sheit -- grimaced and walked to Damage Control Officer Stu Pidd. "What is it, Damn it?" the good admiral shouted.

"No, I'm Stu Pidd. Dammit's the Navigator!" Stu Pidd replied.

Sheit rephrased the question. "What is the problem, Damage Control Officer Stu Pidd?"

"No power to lateral thrusters," Stu Pidd. "We have no way to stabilize our descent!"

Owl was still looking at the Bandanna Banana. Its orientation and general status had changed quite a bit in the time it took Andrew to write the last twelve paragraphs. Instead of being in a slow, careful descent, the Star Destroyed was dropping nose-first in a chaotic spiral. Owl projected it would crash nearby -- right into the Hundred Acre Woods Nuclear Power Plant.

Rabbit was Safety Inspector at the nuclear power plant, in sector 7G. If there was ever a core meltdown, or a worker irradiated himself with nuclear waste, it was his fault. He had worked there for like a million years or something, and he still wasn't sure of his job description was. So far, no had meltdown occurred.

And, that was the way he liked it. No melt downs. The power plant was the safest in the whole Hundred Acre Woods, and it was the only one. That didn't bother him. Neither did repeatedly failing government safety inspections. He'd hate it if any harm came to his power plant.

Little did he know about the Star Destroyer spiraling down towards him . . .

Owl ran frantically around his house, looking for his telephone. He found it broken and in the refrigerator. So, he endeavored to find his cellular phone. It was between his mattresses.

Owl dialed the number of the plant, but the line was busy.

His only chance was to go there in person. Spreading his wings, he jumped off the roof and flew two blocks to the Power Plant. He smashed through the huge window at the executive office and landed gracefully one the table.

There he found one of Rabbit's friends/relations sitting at the end of the table, talking about toaster ovens. " . . . So, I says ta her, 'you ain't getting a damn toasta oven fa fifty dollas--'"

"Excuse me?" Owl interrupted.

"Oh . . . excuse me, Roy, one of our pathetic power customers just bashed through my window. Yeah . . . Okay, bye." Rabbit's friend/relations finished his call. "What can I do for you, Mr. Owl?"

Owl inhaled deeply. "There'saStarDestroyerfallingthiswayandit'sgonnasmashintoourheadsandwereallgonnabekilledandit'sgonnahithereatthepowerplant!" he said quickly.

"A Star Destroyer's going to crash here?" Rabbit's friend/relation thought this over. "Okay, bye." He pressed a button on his desk. "All personnel: evacuate the plant. We are all gonna die!"

"Thank you, sir." Owl jumper back out the window and flew back to his house.

"We're all gonna die!" Navigator Dammit yelled.

"Oh, no! We'll be killed!" Weapons officer Gaddahell screamed.

Pooh, Piglet and Darth entered at that moment.

"No one's gonna die," Piglet said.

Pooh took out his phasor and shot Janitor Zonavabitch.

"I stand corrected," Piglet turned to Darth to say something when he heard someone say, "Charge... clear!" There was a beeping noise, but then it stopped. "Clear!" The beeping noise began again and continued. Piglet turned around and saw Janitor Zonavabitch carried out on a stretcher.

Sheit turned to Darth, "My Lord, we are going to crash and we all will die, because when we hit, the hull will be unprotected, and we all will die."

"Why don't you just raise the shields?" Darth asked.

"They were damaged in the explosion, my lord," Sheit said. "They need to be recalibrated."

"So, why don't you?"

"We didn't feel like it, Lord Vader."

"That's a stupid reason."

"Yes, my lord." He turned to Cerrap. "You go recalibrate the shields."

"Yes, sir." He started to leave the bridge, but Pooh shot him with his phasor.

"I'll go," he said. "Your place is on the bridge of your ship." He left the bridge.

In engineering, Pooh stepped over the dead bodies. A delirious crewman jumped out from behind a bulkhead and tried to strangle Pooh. Pooh shot him with his phasor.

The air was thick with smoke and smelled like B.O. Pooh liked that smell even though every time he inhaled his lungs were filled with smoke. It was way better than cigarettes.

Pooh opened an armored door and fired wildly into the room. He stopped when he was sure that nothing was alive in there and went in. Inside, machines hummed and bleeped. Pooh made his way to the shields console. Little did he know that in the shadows, a heffalump waited...

"Shields are coming back on line!" Damage Control Officer That is Filling in For The Operations Management Officer Stu Pidd said to his commanding officers.

Everybody gave a half-hearted cheer.

"Wait!" said Weapons and Defense officer Ukkphay. "I can't put them up!"

Everybody gave a half-hearted groan.

Pooh's voice came over the intercom, "Edward Bear to the bridge."

"Bridge here. Go ahead, Pooh," Acting Communications Officer Piglet responded.

"I can't uplink power to the Bridge."

"Oh, well, evacuate the ship."

So they evacuated the ship.

In engineering, Pooh gave up on repairs and went to the bridge. But, the heffalump stopped him. Pooh shot it with his phasor and stole all of the heffalump's money. And Pooh went to the bridge.

"We're evacuating, stupid!" Piglet said as Pooh entered the bridge.

"Oh."

"We're going to the shuttle bay," Piglet continued as he gestured toward the door. They left the bridge for the shuttle bay.

As they ran down the corridor, Pooh realized that the Star Destroyer had been falling for the last page of so. Pooh liked it when things took too long.

Entering to shuttle bay, they saw that there were no shuttles left in the hangar. In fact, there weren't even any EVA suits left. So, they jumped out the airlock without a parachute. Just as they cleared the hull, the Star Destroyer's point smashed into the power plant. It stuck there. And Pooh and Piglet fell into the pillow factory.

Seconds earlier, Rabbit had just exited the plant to get a hot dog at a nearby hot dog stand. Behind him, the Bandanna Banana smashed into the plant. They both blew up, nuclear waste flying everywhere. "Thank goodness for hot dogs," Rabbit said, picking up the ketchup bottle.

Pooh and Piglet thanked the pillow factory's owner and gave him the money that Pooh had stolen from the heffalump.

As they left, they were confronted by the terrorist. "I am the terrorist," said he in an arrogant tone of voice.

Pooh tried to shoot him with his phasor, but the batteries were dead. So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

So, the terrorist punched Piglet in the head

So, Piglet punched Pooh in the head

So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

So, the terrorist punched Piglet in the head

So, Piglet punched Pooh in the head

So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

So, the terrorist punched Piglet in the head

So, Piglet punched Pooh in the head

So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

So, the terrorist punched Piglet in the head

So, Piglet punched Pooh in the head

So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

So, the terrorist punched Piglet in the head

So, Piglet punched Pooh in the head

So, Pooh punched the terrorist in the head.

This went on for quite a few hours, until they had forgotten how to punch due to brain cell damage. So, while Pooh bashed the terrorist with a pillow (generously supplied by the pillow factory), Piglet called the police. However, the terrorist was not arrested, because he was hit by a bus when Pooh hit him a second time with the pillow, knocking him into the road.

On a dark and stormy night, Edward Bear struggled to get to sleep. But, thoughts of the evil Christopher Robin still disturbed him. He hadn't had them since Christopher Robin's assassination, but, now they returned to haunt him.

The door to his bedroom creaked open ever so slowly. Pooh jumped up to jam it closed, but the doorknob was melting. Through the cracks in the door, he could just make out the aquamarine glow of his antique blow torch. A deep green hand grasped it tightly.

The flame turned toward Pooh.

Stepping away from the door, Pooh took his compression phasor rifle off The gun rack. In one short blast, he vaporized the door. With another shot, he vaporized the blow torch. He began to fire rapidly at the hand in anger.

Nothing happened . . . except, Christopher Robin materialized connected to the hand.

Pooh turned his attention to the newly materialized homo-sapien. Firing like a maniac, he yelled, "Assimilate this!"

"So we meet again, young Skywalker," the Christopher Robin thing said.

"That's it!" Pooh yelled angrily, igniting his lightsaber. He swung the blade wildly at the Christopher Robin thing. Although the blade itself didn't inflict pain to the thing, the light seemed to do some damage.

The Christopher Robin thing fade back into nothingness, leaving Pooh to wonder what had just happened.

In a dark castle an a dark hilltop, the dark Umpire had called their first dark council meeting since Umperor Christopher Robin's death. Lightning struck a high dark tower at the far end of the dark castle, illuminating the dark area just long enough to reveal a group of dark starfighters and shuttles parked in the dark parking lot.

Inside the dark castle, Elvis impersonators, the backyard gang, their leader Barney, the Pillsbury Dough Boy and other dark individuals gathered around a long, dark table in a dark room. The iron door screeched open, allowing a dark figure to enter.

The figure stepped into the illuminated area near the table, exposing himself to be Eeyore. He saluted the degenerates, subhumans, idiots, evil people and the single dinosaur by poking himself in the eye.

They returned the salute and then blinked rapidly. That done, Everyone stood up, put their hands on their hearts and chanted the Umperial anthem "Heir to the Umperor." It went a bit like this:

Oh Umperor, Oh Umperor,

How lovely is your dictatorship!

We'll overthrow our government,

We'll talk with a speech impediment.

Oh Umperor, Oh Umperor,

How lovely is you dictatorship!

We'll lie, cheat and steal for power,

We'll even demolish an executive tower.

Oh Umperor, Oh Umperor,

How lovely is your dictatorship!

The song continued much like this, with more stuff about overthrowing the government, with more stuff about evilness in general. At one point, it became so evil that is ceased to rhyme.

When the song ended, everyone took their seats, again. Eeyore, at the podium began, "As you know, I have infiltrated their security and retrieved some vital information."

"Get on with it!" yelled a backyard gang member.

"Yeah, we have to do our homework!" protested another.

"We love homework!" a third added helpfully. The entire backyard gang nodded. One of the Elvis impersonators bashed each of them on their heads with his guitar. Barney punched him.

":Anyway," Eeyore continued. "Edward Bear and his co-conspirators--"

"I wanna do my homework!" the entire backyard gang wailed. "Elvis" bashed them again.

"As I was saying," Eeyore proceeded, trying to ignore the outburst. "Pooh and his co-conspirators killed--"

"Killing is bad," Barney stated.

"Yes . . ." said Eeyore, rolling his eyes. "They killed Umperor Christopher Robin."

"He's dead?" said the Pillsbury Dough Boy, glancing around the room.

"Yes."

"Oh, how sad."

"Yes . . . yes, it is."

Pooh, shaken by the encounter with the Christopher Robin thing, decided to go to Piglet's house. He got into his F-15 and took off. He must have been drunk, because he flew over the train tracks and into the Scary Uncharted Area of the Hundred Acre Woods. He rammed right into the side of the Umperial castle and into one of their council meetings.

" . . . And, that is how I spent my summer vacation," finished a backyard gang member. Barney was applauding wildly. One of the Elvises was about to bash Barney on the head, when an F-15 bashed through the wall.

"It's Pooh!" yelled the backyard gang.

"No, it's the FBI! They're on to me!" Barney cried as he bashed through the wall and into the night.

The outburst woke Pooh from his unconscious state. He was a little disoriented. " . . . a hefty, hefty appetite for a hefty, hefty Pooh." As he fully awoke, he became more aware of his surroundings. "Oh, bother. I seem to have bashed up my F-15," he said, wiping away some drool. He slid down the nose of the aircraft, sat down on the floor. "Think, think, think, think, think, think, think," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

His train of thought -- a small caboose, for he was a bear of very little brain -- was abruptly derailed when a disrupter beam hit the wall beside his head. Pooh jumped up and looked for his Compression Phasor Rifle. To his dismay, he had used the battery for his smoke detector. Damn! What are the chances of there actually being a fire?

Just then, the F-15 burst into flames. The smoke detector went off.

Eeyore, making use of the distraction, made his way toward the exit. As he left, he threw a thermal detonator at Pooh.

The detonator landed right next to the bear. Assuming that it was some new form of honey, he ate it. It had a pleasant metallic taste, and the plutonium left his esophagus tingling. The best part was when it detonated. What a pity he was too dead to taste it.

"COME TO THE LIGHT, POOH," a deep voice echoed.

Pooh found himself standing in darkness. A light shined in front of him, at least a quarter mile away.

Physically, he seemed fine. He didn't seem to be blown to sub-molecular particles. Hmm, must be the pretzels.

"COME TO THE LIGHT, POOH," the voice repeated.

Pooh was in a defiant mood. He inhaled deeply and said, "No."

"GOD DAMMIT! JUST GO TO THE BLOODY LIGHT!"

"No!"

Suddenly, the blackness around Pooh was filled with stars. The light had disappeared, and in the distance, he thought he saw a starship. He was just contemplating this, when the voice intoned, "SO BE IT, EDWARD BEAR. I WOULD CONDEMN THEE TO HELL, BUT I HAVE A DENTIST APPOINTMENT."

Pooh thought he heard a wooshing sound, but, being a bear of very little brain, he wasn't aware that sound didn't travel in a vacuum. Actually, he wasn't yet aware he was even in one.

He tried to move, but couldn't.

The starship got closer, he realized it was the Enterprise-D.

As it passed, Pooh grabbed the airlock and pulled it open. Getting in, he pulled it closed behind him, not caring if it was sealed. He opened the inner door, and air rushed in, pinning Pooh against the outer door. When the air stopped, he casually walked back through the inner door, and into an unfamiliar corridor. A pale lieutenant commander walked by. Pooh decided to follow him.

After following for a very short time, Pooh followed the lieutenant commander into what seemed to be a sickbay. A woman in a blue medical tunic walked up to the lieutenant commander as he sat down. She placed one of her hands on his forehead, near his hairline, and the other at the back of his head. She then twisted the lieutenant commander's hair. The top of his head came off.

In the shadows, Pooh braced himself for a bloody scene.

There wasn't one. Instead, the lieutenant commander's head glowed with light and circuits. This did something to Pooh that didn't happen very often: he had an idea. Since he was dead, Pooh would mug the droid lieutenant commander and implant his brain into the droid's head.

The lieutenant commander, with his hair back on, turned and left sickbay.

In the corridor, Pooh confronted the Lieutenant Commander. "I am See-Threepio, human cyborg relation--" the lieutenant commander began. "Oh, wait, that's not right . . . " he hit himself in the side of his head. "I am Lieutenant Commander Data--"

"Shut up," interrupted Pooh. "I'm gonna mug you!"

Data looked at Pooh curiously for a moment. "Since I am endeavoring to become more human, a mugging would be acceptable."

Pooh whacked him with a big stick and opened the droid's head as the doctor had. Pooh lifted out Data's positronic brain (Pooh noted that it might work well in an Ion Drive) and implanted his own into the droid body. Now Pooh was alive . . . kind of.

Pooh, in Data's body, went to the bridge.

As Pooh sat down at the Ops station, a bald guy ordered, "Mr. Data, set course for the Beta Omicron Beta system, warp factor one.

Pooh struggled to understand the panel. He dumbly pressed the Warp Speed button and hoped they wouldn't smash into any planets.

Seconds later, while passing Neptune, a huge green hand grabbed the Enterprise.

"I am Christopher Robin!" said a disembodied voice.

Pooh jumped out of his seat. "Aaaaaaah! It's Christopher Robin!"

"Christopher who?" the bald guy asked.

"The evilest guy in the universe!" Pooh yelled. "But, he's dead."

"Sit down, Mr. Data," the bald guy addressed Pooh.

A guy with tire tracks on his forehead announced, "Captain, we cannot move. Suicide would be honorable."

"I don't think so, Mr. Worf," the bald guy responded.

"But, sir, today is a good day to die."

The bald guy considered this for a moment. "When you put it that way . . ." The bald guy stood up. "Computer, deactivate life support."

"Working," the computer droned. "Done. Air supply with be depleted in thirty minutes."

What idiots, Pooh thought. Suddenly, he had an incredible craving for Hunny Brand Honey. He was just thinking about getting some when he remembered that he was just a brain inside an android. He had no digestive system.

When no one was looking. Pooh crept into a turbolift. There, Pooh found his regenerated body waiting for him. Pooh's brain was so happy to see his body, he popped out of the droid's head and landed in his rightful body.

Data crumbled on the floor.

"Turbolift," Pooh said, addressing to wall. "Shuttlebay."

The turbolift was extremely slow. When it finally got to the shuttlebay, there was only five minutes of oxygen left. The air was already thin, leaving Pooh gasping for breath as he made his way toward the shuttlecraft Crapenicus

When he finally got there, there were only three minutes of breathable air left. The shuttlebay was very big. Opening the door to the shuttle, he found Piglet already in, prepping it for take-off. "Piglet, what are you doing here?" Pooh asked.

"Well, Pooh-Bear," Piglet started. "I joined Starfleet."

"Fascinating."

"Well . . ." Piglet leaned close to Pooh's ear. "Actually, I'm in it for the babes."

"But, Piglet, there aren't any other pigs on this ship," Pooh stated, looking around to make sure.

"Yeah," Piglet said, looking around as if for the first time. "What a disappointment."

Suddenly, Pooh noticed the bald guy had engaged the self-destruct system. There was only twenty seconds left. Piglet must have noticed too, because he pulled Pooh into the shuttle and slammed the door.

Piglet turned the key. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing happened.

"Ten seconds to self-destruct," announced the computer.

Piglet tried the key again. Nothing.

"Too bad the shuttle doesn't have Ion Drive," Pooh said.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

"I wonder if the replicator makes Hunny."

Two seconds.

"Oh, damn, I'm gonna die--" Pooh was interrupted as the shuttle's engines suddenly ignited. With a burst of speed, the shuttle shot toward the end of the shuttlebay.

"Oops, I forgot to--" Piglet started, but he, too was interrupted as the shuttle bashed through the shuttlebay's closed doors.

"Have a nice day," the computer said. The Enterprise exploded.

The shock wave sped towards Piglet and Pooh's shuttlecraft as Piglet attempted to go to Sub-Dimensional Transtator Geometric Relativistic Space, but nothing happened.

"We canna go ta warp, suh! It just isn't possible." For the first time, Pooh noticed the Scottish man working on the warp drive engines.

"Aaaaaaaaah, It's a human!" Pooh cried. He only trusted a select group of that species and traumatic experiences with the one called Christopher Robin had given him a type of paranoia toward the species. Anyway, Pooh, mind muddled by paranoia and lack of one, opened the airlock and threw the human out.

"Pooh!" Piglet scolded. "That was Mr. Scott, the engineer."

Pooh looked out the window. "Oh," he said. "Oh, bother."

Pooh and Piglet, having narrowly avoided getting hit with the Enterprise's shock wave, landed at the Hundred Acre Woods Air Force Base. It was a beautiful day, punctuated by the Enterprise burning up in what little o-zone remained over the Hundred Acre Woods.

Pooh was the first to leave the shuttle. "Halloo, there, Commander Cerrap!" he called to the Militia man waiting for them outside the shuttlecraft. "Didn't you die aboard the Bandanna Banana?"

Commander Cerrap, formerly of the Imperial Navy and Operations Management Office of the Imperial Star Destroyer Bandanna Banana hesitated before answering Pooh's question. True, the Bandanna Banana had indeed crashed, and Cerrap had escaped with many other crew members, but, their method was kind of embarrassing to him. "I jumped out the airlock and landed in the Pillow Factory."

Pooh smiled. "Wow!" He jumped off the shuttlecraft's warp nacelle were he had been standing. "So did I! Small world, isn't it?"

Piglet walked out of the shuttle and greeted Cerrap in a more dignified manner.

Later, in the Hundred Acre Woods AFB cafeteria, Pooh told Piglet about his encounter with the Christopher Robin thing. Piglet listened with quiet awe. "That's terrible Pooh," Piglet said when the bear was finished. "I think I know how to help you." He pointed to a gentleman in a tuxedo. "See him?"

"Yup."

"That's James Bond. He can help us." Piglet jumped out his seat and gestured for the bear to follow him.

"Help us with what?" Pooh blurted.

"I think he can help us get rid of the Christopher Robin thing."

"How?"

Piglet sighed. "He's a spy. He sees things."

"I can too." Pooh protested as he hurried to catch up to Piglet.

James Bond was leaning close to the pie he was eating, whispering suspiciously into it. Pooh wondered if all spies talked to their pies.

"Double-Oh Seven calling British Intelligence," Mr. Bond was saying as Pooh and Piglet approached.

Pooh was confused. He had never heard of a British Intelligence pie. Prob'ly taste's pretty good, thought Pooh.

"Bond!" Piglet yelled.

James Bond jumped out of his chair and pointed a gun at Piglet's head. "How much did you hear?" "I'm not telling," Piglet replied calmly. "I wouldn't pull that trigger if I were you."

Bond didn't know what Piglet was talking about. He had a license to kill. "Why not, Pig?"

"I noticed earlier that your license to kill had expired."

Bond didn't move his gun. "Nice try, Pig. How much do you know?" Bond reached out with his other hand and disengaged the weapons safety.

"I know everything." Piglet responded. In the corner of his eye, he could see Pooh bringing his phasor rifle to bear.

Bond began to pull the trigger, but as he did, he was vaporized by a streak of yellow phasor energy from Pooh's phasor rifle.

Outside, Commander Cerrap was there to meet Piglet and Pooh again. He walked them to a large aircraft hangar. Inside, was Air Force One, the president's 747.

"I think we're supposed to fly it," Pooh said, examining the engines.

"Gee whiz, Pooh. I think so," Piglet answered sarcastically.

"Don't mind if I do!" Piglet heard the sound of dripping water. Or urine.

"On the fuel tank, Pooh," Piglet directed.

Pooh bounced onto the wing, opened the fuel tank and continued urinating. "This'll really pack some punch in the afterburners," Pooh stated. When he was done, he closed the fuel tank and joined Piglet in the cockpit.

"I did the pre-flight check," Piglet said. "Throttle up, Pooh-Bear."

"Throttling up, Dude."

"Pooh, did you open the hangar doors?"

The plane bashed through the closed hangar doors. Just as they cleared the hangar, it collapsed.

"I knew I forgot something," Pooh answered.

Piglet put his hand on the throttle and looked toward the end of the runway. "Pooh! The runway is too short!" Piglet cried, gesturing toward the rapidly depleting runway.

Pooh, who had the need for speed, engaged the afterburners. The plane surged forward. Then it stopped. Then it lurched again. Suddenly, Pooh and Piglet were pinned to their seats as the plane accelerated to Mach ten. The paint on the outside of the plane burned off and the tires left black, flaming marks on the runway.

Pooh pulled up and the plane went into the air, vibrating wildly.

"P-p-p-p-p-pooh,,,,,,,, th-th-th-this p-p-p-p-p-plane c-c-c-c-can't g-g-go Mach t-t-t-t-t-en-n-n-n-n-n-n-n!" Piglet shouted over the sound of the vibration.

Just then, the steel on the plane's outer hull stripped off, exposing the framework. The rudder creaked and tore off. Then, the urine ran out. The engines stalled.

"Start!" Piglet shouted, turning the key rapidly, apparently ignoring the warning sign marked: Do Not Turn Key Rapidly.

Engine one exploded, taking most of the outer right wing with it.

" . . . Now is the time that we must challenge ourselves to survive my boring speeches . . ." someone said from the back of the plane.

"Pooh," Piglet ordered, "go see what that noise is."

"That was engine one exploding," Pooh stated, but Piglet had somehow fallen asleep at the controls.

Pooh grabbed his phasor rifle and ran down the hall to the back room. He hid just outside the doorway.

"We must challenge ourselves to provide better education for our children, because they are all too stupid to inherit this country! You are all terrible parents. You may have elected me, but I'm in charge now. We must challenge ourselves to challenge our challenge--"

Pooh jumped from his hiding place, vaporizing a person in the back row.

At the front of the room, past rows of people, was a man standing at a podium, surrounded by several angry secret service goons. "Communist!" the man at the podium shouted, pointing at Pooh.

The secret service goons left their posts to gang up on the accused communist, their guns out and ready.

Pooh whipped his phasor rifle around, and with two quick shots, he vaporized two of the goons. Pooh tried to fire again, but he had drained the battery already.

The secret service goons aimed their guns and -- suddenly they were all bashed up against the wall. "He's mine," said an incredibly annoying voice. Pooh looked up to see a towering purple dinosaur in front of him. "I'm Barney."

"No!" Pooh ignited his lightsaber and swung hard at the dinosaur. Barney's blade slapped into Pooh's, sending spark flying across the room. They held their lightsabers there for only a second, pushing at the other's. Pooh snapped his foot out, tripping Barney long enough to run back to the cockpit.

Closing down his lightsaber, he shouted to Piglet, "Piglet, we've got company!"

Piglet was already awake and out of his seat. "Who?"

Pooh ran past him. "Barney the dinosaur!"

Just then, Barney rumbled down the corridor, knocking Piglet into the lavatory.

Pooh found himself in the cockpit shortly after that, caught between a rock and a huge purple dinosaur. Desperately, Pooh climbed into the crawlspace.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Barney sung, his voice becoming perilously close to the bear. Barney continued singing, and just as Pooh thought he was in the clear, a purple lightsaber blade crashed through the wall of the crawlspace.

Pooh jumped out, into the corridor. Directly in front of him was Barney, laughing. "Well, isn't this just super-d-duper!" Pooh was cornered. "You shall pay for your--"

Barney stopped himself as Pooh slipped out the airlock and onto the wing. Following him, Barney roared in anger. "Thou shalt die!"

Pooh stumbled back as their lightsabers clashed. Barney's crimson blade hit Pooh's Hunny colored, lighting the wing into an orange glow. Pooh swung his blade at Barney's side, but the dinosaurs ducked.

Pooh continued his swing over the dinosaur's head. He switched the saber to his other hand and prepared to drop to blade onto the purple lizard. Barney's blade was there instantly, and the two blade clashed and held, pushing the other.

On the tip of the wing, Christopher Robin laughed. Barney distracted by the appearance of the human, looked to him. It was all the time Pooh needed to kick the dinosaur off the edge of the wing.

Christopher Robin laughed. "There's something you should know about me, Edward Bear. All this time, when you thought I was dead, I have been alive--"

"Didn't go to the light, huh?"

"Yeah. All this time I have been alive and I am the Umperor!"

Pooh didn't have any idea why he cared, but he hated Christopher Robin. He ran toward the human, enraged.

"Yes, yes, use the dark side. Strike me down with all your hatred and your journey towards the dark side will be complete. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant," the Umperor cackled, intimidating.

Pooh shrugged and kicked him off the side of the wing. Christopher Robin fell toward Oblivion, Nevada (a happy community; population 65). Pooh never actually saw him hit the ground and he thought he heard the sound of an Ion Drive . . .

Pooh turned and walked back into the plane where Piglet was waiting.

0200 hours

In a dark and dreary underworld complex, sixty miles beneath the Earth's surface, a Disney board meeting was occurring. Around the circular table sat the world's most brutal tyrants: the Disney Executives.

"How about Pukahantas?" said one of those evil people. He sipped his whiskey and twisted his sinister mustache. In front of him, documents, describing their next satanic plot. He leaned back, and bumped into one of their slaves. "Slave! How dare you intrude!" The executive chucked his glass in the slave's face. It shattered, leaving a huge gash in his face.

"Thank you," the slave said, his words garbled by blood and glass shards, as the whiskey seeped into his bloodstream. He scuttled away, limping with his wooden leg. His real one had been amputated when he referred to Mickey Mouse as "The Rat."

As the slave closed the door behind him, the executive continued, "It could be about a 'rich kid' movie, to show the American public how much crap we can buy."

The man at the end of the table rose, smoothing out his long beard. "All in favor?" he said in a raspy voice. He sat down.

Everyone raised their hands. They began to talk to the person next to them, and around them, when an executive named I.G. Norantt asked, "How much funding should we put into this movie/"

The executive ceased talking immediately. They looked to the bearded man at the end of the table. He stood up once again. "All in favor of thirty billion, say aye."

"Aye," said the executives, in their most sinister voices.

Air Force One, Approaching Area 51

0845 hours

"This is Air Force One, requesting permission to land at base, code named Area 51, over," Piglet said into his helmet microphone. He glanced at Pooh, who was reading "How to make a Successful First Contact," by Arnold C. Clarke. Piglet looked out the window. Ten thousand feet under them was Area 51.

"Air Force One, this is Control, transmit clearance code for landing."

"Transmitting," Piglet stated, as he transmitted the code.

Pooh looked up form his book. "Piglet?"

"Yes, Pooh-Bear?"

"Did you know that they recommend the Vulcan Salute for first contacts?" Pooh asked, frowning in a thoughtful fashion.

"Yeah," Piglet answered. "I hear that it will really brighten up the Extra Terrestrials' day."

"But how do you do it if you only have two fingers?" Pooh inquired, flexing his stubby fingers.

"I don't know," Piglet replied, flexing his own fingers.

"Air Force One," Control announced. "You are clear to land."

"Roger." Piglet responded.

"Uh, no. I'm Tom," Control said. "Roger work in the gift shop."

Area 51

0900 hours

Air Force One gradually slowed down on the runway. Piglet deactivated the engines, depressurized the interior, turned off the lights in the cockpit and powered down the electrical systems.

While Piglet was finishing up, Pooh opened the door, allowing it to swing into the side of the hull and jumped out. He hit his head on the runway and was run over by the landing gear.

The plane finally stopped. Piglet extended the ramp and casually walked down. He looked across the dry lake, surprised that no one was there to greet them. He took one step towards the main compound, and then, as an after thought, he turned and peeled Pooh off the landing gear.

"That was cool!" shouted the bear, turning to kiss the tire. His lips, tongue and the fur surrounding his mouth, sticky with Hunny Brand Honey came away covered in dust, oil, and melted tire. "Yum. Nothing like the taste of petroleum to wake you up in the morning." He began to drool, his saliva black and gooey. Licking the drool with his tongue, he wiped his mouth. He started off toward the main compound.

Piglet held back, in deep thought. He walked to the landing gear and licked the tire.

Pooh and Piglet were eventually met by the lead scientist of the facility, Rabbit. He was wearing a while lab coat, stains bleached, but still visible.

"Rabbit!" Pooh yelled. Rabbit shushed him.

"Around here, Pooh," Rabbit said. "they know me as Disco Bob."

"They don't get out much, do they?" Piglet remarked.

Rab--Disco Bob kicked a pebble. "No . . . they don't." He gestured for Pooh and Piglet to follow. "This way to the main compound."

"Lead on, Disco Bob!" Pooh laughed.

Pooh and Piglet walked next to Disco Bob. He was telling them stories about how the Enterprise and Sky Lab had bashed into the Power Plant and life at Area 51. There were a lot of gaps in his stories; he knew tons of classified information. Piglet wondered how the U.S. government could put so much trust in Disco Bob.

"Listen guys," Disco Bob started. "Once we pass this security marker, you won't be able to leave the compound without authorization. Understood?"

"Yup," Pooh replied impatiently. "Let's get to the aliens!"

Disco Bob led them to a huge blast door made of solid titanium. "What you are about to see is classified." He pulled out a key and stuck it into a keyhole beside the door. A small panel poked out of the wall, consisting of a palm scanner and a number pad. Disco Bob typed in the activation code and placed his hand on the palm scanners glass surface. The panel retracted as the outer blast door opened, only to reveal another. Disco Bob tapped the lower left corner exactly sixty-two times and was rewarded with retina scanner. He put his face up to it, activating the scanner. He then waited exactly seven point two seconds before pushing the door open.

Behind the door, Pooh and Piglet were shocked at what they saw. . .

Pooh fell to his knees. Piglet dropped his beer, a Disco Bob shoved them into the room.

The floor was sticky and the air had the distinct scent of burning animal tissue and moldy blood. The walls were covered with shelves, covered with strange merchandise. The ceiling, high above their heads, had few lights, solitary bulbs at seemingly random places along it. In the shadows, sub-humans scurried about their non-existent business.

"Disco Bob . . . where are we?" Piglet timidly asked.

Disco Bob turned to him. The veins in his eyes popped. His voice changed. "Welcome to my dungeon, Pig." He disappeared in a haze of greasy purple smoke as all the exits closed and locked.

Being a bear of very little brain, Pooh didn't comprehend the situation. He strode over to one of the shelves and looked at the price tag. Suddenly in extreme shock, he was flung across the room as if the tag had been electrified.

Piglet ran to him. "What happened?"

"Did you see the prices on those things?" Pooh got up and ran to some merchandise. He looked at the tag and was flung across the room.

Piglet didn't bother moving.

"That was cool!" the bear exclaimed.

"Gee whiz, Pooh--

"Don't mind if I do!" He started urinating. He looked at a price tag and was flung across the room.

After watching Pooh's flights across the room for six hours, Piglet got up and snatched Pooh out of the air as the bear sailed by.

"Hey!" Pooh protested. "Oh, bother."

"Pooh-Bear, we have to get out of here!"

"Really?" Pooh said. "How do you propose to do that?"

"Listen, Pooh, I've been thinking. The ceiling is extremely high, right?"

"Uh, no?"

"No, Pooh, the ceiling is really high."

"It is?"

"Yes."

Pooh was confused. "But you just said no."

"Listen Pooh, since the ceiling is really high, by my logic, they don't bother to put a security system up their. So, we find a really high priced item and look at the tag. As we look at it, we'll push off the floor with our feet. That should cause us to be propelled toward and through the ceiling. Got it?"

"No."

"Good."

Piglet dragged Pooh to one of the shelves. He took out a pen. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They both simultaneously looked at the tag. They were instantly flung up into the air, towards the ceiling.

"Gee whiz, Po--"

"Don't mind if I do!" Pooh started urinating.

They bashed through the ceiling and were nearly sucked into one of Air Force One's jet engines.

Disco Bob was stealing it.

"Pooh, Rabbit is stealing Air Force One!" Piglet shouted, holding onto the wing for dear life.

"Oh, bother," said Pooh

Piglet motioned toward the door, and they made their way too it. "Pry it open!" he told bear, as he tested the doorknob.

Pooh pulled out the crowbar he just happened to have with him and pried the door open. Piglet pushed his way in, followed by Pooh, who immediately went to the weapons locker and took out his lightsaber. "Let's go," he said, marching toward the cockpit.

They arrived without incident. Opening the door, they could see Rabbit's ears towering over the pilot's seat. Pooh whipped the seat around, only to find that the ears were made of construction paper. On the seat of the chair was a bomb. "It's a trap!" yelled the bear.. He reached out with his crowbar to pull the battery wires.

He got within an inch of the wire, when a hologram of Rabbit appeared. It was extremely detailed, but it was facing the wall. "If you are hearing this," Rabbit the hologram said to the wall. "you have attempted to make contact with the BoomBoom 3000 Detonator Unit. Should you attempt to disarm it, the charges within the hull will detonate. I guarantee you, our master plan with go into action at dawn tomorrow as planned." The hologram fizzled out of existence.

"Gee whi -- golly, Po--" Piglet started.

"Don't mind if I -- what?"Pooh said, confused, pulling the zipper of his flight suit down then back up.

Owl's House

1111 hours

Owl sat watching his television. He had just ordered the Disney Channel, and, so far, he was extremely disappointed. Disney's original portrayal of Pooh and himself had been accurate, but this new television series and the new movie was incredibly inaccurate. Owl did indeed tell boring stories about his friends and relations, and Pooh did indeed have an unhealthy addiction to honey, but what about Piglet's alcoholism? Or Pooh's amazing tendency to save the universe from evil? What about Christopher Robin's evilness?

On the screen, Donald Duck was flogging his three nephews, Chewey, Gooey and Spewey. It was definitely not Owl's idea of family programming. "Fwuk you, arsssssss mole!" the insane duck was shouting. Owl wasn't sure if hew truly wanted a translation.

Suddenly, the picture changed. Against a black background, was a Mickey Mouse head and cross-bones. The picture dissolved into what was either a news room or a war room. "This is a Disney Channel special report. We are on the verge of world domination. If you would like to join our quest to create order out of chaos, or chaos out of order -- we haven't decided yet -- please send a post card with your name, address, age, phone number, social security number and credit card numbers to the Disney Conspirators, P/O box 666, Orlando, Florida --" The zip code was garbled and the T.V. abruptly exploded.

Air Force One

0511 hours

"Pooh, this bomb was made by Disney." Piglet said, looking at the BoomBoom 3000 Detonator Unit.

"So was this tooth paste." Pooh dropped the tube of tooth paste into the garbage. He then preceded to walk to the radio.

"Pooh, it won't work." Piglet sighed. "Transmitter's gone -- torn out."

Pooh didn't seem to care. "I just want to listen to some tunes." He activated it, turned the dial to his favorite station and began to sing along with the song playing. "Ten drops of Hunny floating in a pot; take one out and what have you got? Nine drops of Hunny floating in a pot; take one out and what have you--" Pooh stopped singing as he suddenly realized the music wasn't playing anymore.

"This station was been purchased by Disney as part of our world domination campaign," said an annoyingly squeaky voice on the radio.

Piglet looked up from his examination of the bomb. "Did you hear that, Pooh-Bear? What'll we do?"

"It's Eeyore's birthday!" Pooh shouted.

Piglet slumped his shoulders. "No, Pooh. I don't think that would apply to this particular situation."

The hologram of Rabbit flickered back into existence. "The BoomBoom 3000 will detonate in exactly ten minutes. I advise you: escape is impossible. I took all the parachutes." The Disney symbol flashed and faded away.

Pooh went to the window. "Hey, isn't that the pillow factory?"

"So it is," replied Piglet, joining the bear at the window.

Pillow Factory

0515 hours

"Bye," Piglet called to the pillow factory's owner for the second time in a Silly Ol' Bear story.

Pooh turned to Piglet. "Who'd have thought we'd to that again?" He wiped some feathers of his fur. Once again, they had jumped from an aircraft and landed in the pillow factory.

"C'mon, Pooh, we gotta warn the Pentagon about the imminent Disney attack," Piglet informed the bear.

"Got it." Pooh jumped into the middle of the road. Bouncing up and down rapidly, he yelled, "Taxis, stop! We're rich bastards and give huge tips!"

Immediately, all the taxis in Hundred Acre Woods rushed to Pooh, only a few hitting him. Piglet got into the nearest one. "Take us to the airport. But, first, scrape my friend of your tire."

USS Abraham Lincoln

0530 hours

"Commander Piglet, it's worse than we thought. Dawn is at 0640 hours!" said an ensign coming up from below deck.

"Thank you--" Piglet started.

"Sir!" cried another ensign. "We're receiving a transmission from someone called 'Owl.' He wishes to speak with you, sir."

"Commander Piglet, Commander Pooh," Owl said in a grave voice over the radio transmission system. "I have the coordinates of the Disney base. It seems to be located at --" Static.

"What the hell?" Piglet murmured. "What happened? Get him back!"

"Transmission jammed, sir," said the communications officer.

The lights suddenly dimmed and flickered off. There was a loud bang from the engine room and the ship began to rock violently. The captain's voice came over the loud speaker. "All hands, abandon ship! Repeat: all hands, abandon ship!"

Piglet grabbed Pooh's flight suit. "We've got to get out of here."

Pooh said nothing.

"Pooh . . . heffalumps lurk in the dark."

The bear understood, and ran after Piglet down the corridors if the aircraft carrier. They made their way to the flight deck, and jumped into an SR-71 Blackbird.

They got into their seats and Piglet ran the pre-flight tests.

"Think . . . think . . .think . . .think . . .think . . .think . . .think . . .think . . .think . . ." Pooh muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Think what, Pooh?"

"What's the fasty uppy thing called?" replied Pooh, putting his hands on the fasty uppy thing.

"The throttle?"

"Oh, yeah!" Pooh throttled up.

The blackbird accelerated and shot off the deck.

"Pooh, we've got a problem," Piglet announced, gesturing to the fuel gage.

Pooh looked up from his comic book. "What?"

"Pooh," Piglet said. "We're out of fuel."

"Hmm," Pooh mumbled. "So we are."

"Pooh, do you remember what fuel is for?"

"Nope."

Just then, the plane went into a nose dive.

"Oh, now I remember."

Piglet pulled pack on the stick. The dive slowed, but didn't stop. "Pooh, put the landing gear down!"

Pooh pressed the appropriate button. Nothing happened.

"Pooh, the landing gear!"

Pooh kicked the wall. "It's broken!"

"Pooh-Bear, I'm gonna crash us in the water. It should cushion us." Piglet began to look for a lake.

"I want honey."

There was a splash, and the nose of the blackbird dipped under the water. The plane became lodged in the mud and nuclear waste at the bottom of the lake Piglet had picked out.

"Oh, bother!" Pooh shouted angrily, as he fought to untangle himself from his seat belt.

Piglet was next to him, studying his surroundings. Climbing up to the windshield, he found he couldn't see out because it was glowing green. "It didn't look quite so radioactive from the air . . ." he muttered to himself. He turned to Pooh. "I think I know where we are."

"Where?"

Piglet considered for a moment more and then replied, "I think, that based on the information available, that we are in the Hundred Acre Woods Nuclear Lake -- you know, where we used to dump our nuclear waste."

"I wonder where they put it now . . ." Pooh looked around. "So how do we leave?"

"We can't leave the Blackbird because of all the nuclear waste, and we can't transmit our location because of the Disney radio jamming." Piglet allowed himself to drop back into his seat. "This is futile."

Pooh smiled slyly. "We could use my site-to-site transporter."

"Y-you had a transporter all this time?" Piglet yelled angrily. His patience with the bear had run out.

"Not exactly." Pooh eyed the bottom of his honey jar.

"Either you had it or you didn't, stupid!"

Pooh gasped in shock. Piglet was not one to use such profanity among friends. Pooh showed him the transporter unit, hoping to prevent another verbal slaughter. The three silver cylinders and control pad that the unit consisted of appeared to be covered with honey.

"The transporter unit was the prize at the bottom of your honey jar?" Piglet asked, calming down, although not sure where his theory had come from.

"I didn't know you ate Hunny Brand Honey."

"It was the prize?"

"Um . . . yes." The bear held the transporter unit out for Piglet.

Piglet took it, and hastily washed it off.

Then, he checked his wrist chronometer (it took him several minutes to ascertain which number's said what time it was). Piglet looked up, finally. "Pooh . . . the attack has begun."

Hundred Acre Woods

0640 hours

"Beginning attack run, Disney Command." After years of merchandising, making movies that were so bad that they could be put into theaters, Disney finally had enough money and power the take over the world.

The Disney Bomber screamed over the normal tranquil and unsuspecting Hundred Acre Woods. Designed to inspire fear in the minds of their attackees, they were basically a larger sphere with two smaller saucers connected to the top in the unmistakable shape of Mickey Mouse's head.

Small, one of Rabbit's friends-and-relations came out of his cozy house to pick carrots to sell at the market. Looking up, he saw something completely unexpected: though the smog, he could just make out the silhouettes of the bombers. He dismissed it as another one of Disney's endless promotions for one of their pathetic films. That was, until the bombs began to fall.

Jet black capsules about the size of Small himself rained down on the forest. The first of the capsules detonated on his house and the upper parts of the trees, sending flaming shards into his soft, cuddlely-wuddlely fur. The second wave vaporized his carrot patch and blew off the fur on his lower body; several speeding carrots incapacitated his legs.

He fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Another bomb detonated by his face, tearing off his little bunny head. More blood gushed onto the ground and almost instantly, Disney genetically engineered flies swarmed his carcass.

Washington, DC

0640

The president of the United States stepped onto the balcony and let the sunlight wash over him. It was early enough that the protesters weren't awake yet. Watching the rising sun, he endeavored to think of a good name for his latest scandal.

Just as he decided on a suitable name, a single large Disney Bomber streaked in from over the horizon, shattering the morning silence with its huge Ion Drive. Escort fighters swarmed around it, occasionally breaking formation to strafe an elderly couple or a parent with a baby carriage, or to casually picking off any aircraft that blundered their way.

A single squadron of F/A-18s shot toward the bomber, but the opposing fighters had them wiped out before they even got one shot out.

The single Disney bomber dropped its deadly payload before engaging its afterburners and streaking over the horizon.

There was a huge explosion, and a shock wave was sent in all directions, knocking the president back into his bedroom. He got up off the floor just in time to see a mammoth fireball rushing at him.

He was vaporized well before he felt anything, as was the rest of Washington and the surrounding towns.

Pooh's House

0645 hours

Pooh and Piglet appeared in the bluish haze of a transporter beam. When the effect released them, they looked around. Brush fires raged in many places at once, and the area was littered with craters.

Pooh spoke up first, too stupid to be shocked at what he saw. "To the war room!"

They went into Pooh's house, stepping over the shattered honey jars that had been knocked off their shelves. As Piglet stopped to examine a shattered window, Pooh tried to lick up the honey covering the floor. When they were satisfied, they went into the war room.

In the war room, displays flashed readouts, alert klaxons screeched and on a television screen in the corner was Disney's Mickey Mouse and cross bones emblem.

Pooh rushed to the screen and fiddled with the dials. "All television stations blocked," reported the bear.

Piglet ran the surveillance station. "Pooh-Bear, Owl has been here."

"What'd he do? He didn't take any honey, did he."

Piglet keyed in a long string of commands. "He seems to have set your missiles the Disney targets. He left a message in which he explains that he believes that the destruction of these targets should destroy or incapacitate all or most of the Disney Forces."

Behind Piglet, Donald Duck beamed in.

Pooh, standing behind the quacker dove behind a crate before he could be noticed.

"Ah . . . at last I have the mighty Piglet," Donald said through his translator; nobody but die-hard Disney "fans" could even begin to understand his dialect without it.

"Aww," Piglet said coolly, turning around. "You wouldn't hurt a fellow Disney character, would you?"

"You ain't no Disney character." Double negatives -- he meant business.

Piglet put his hand behind his back. Reaching under the panel he had been working at, he pulled out a concealed phasor. He nodded in Pooh's general direction, hoping the duck hadn't noticed. "You know, I wasn't in the book."

"You wasn't?" Donald lowered his blaster rifle.

Piglet gestured to the table, smiling all friendly-like. "Want a drink?"

The ducky assassin licked his lips and sat down. Piglet sat down across from him, maintaining his forced smile.

Suddenly, Donald jumped over the table and put his blaster to Piglet's head. With his back to Pooh, he heaved the frightened Very Small Animal out of his seat. Piglet dropped his phasor. Donald spoke quietly in the pig's ear. "Don't you go thinking I --" His translator fell off. "-- Beweeve Ywoou."

Pooh raised his head from his hiding place, picking up his phasor rifle. He aimed for Donald's head. Unfortunately, he couldn't fire because the quacker moved to much, periodically maneuvering Piglet between him and Pooh. Pooh lowered his aim and fired at the duck's legs.

Donald Duck dropped to the floor.

Pooh jumped out of his hiding place and stuck his phasor rifle down the duck's beak.

"Shoot him!" Piglet commanded.

Pooh happily did so and the duck was vaporized.

That done, Piglet walked to missile controls and armed them. "Pooh, uplink the target coordinates to me."

"There you go." Pooh did as he was told and then went to his honey stash. After taking out a Hunny pot, he went over to the blast window to watch. "You may fire when ready, Piglet."

The ground opened up, exposing Pooh's fifty missile silos.

"Firing." Piglet pressed the launch button.

The missiles shot out from their silos and toward their targets.

DSS Vengeful Executor

0655 hours

"Captain Mickey, this is Commander Goofy -- Uhhuk -- the attack is going as planned. However, there are five contacts coming toward us."

"Ignore them," came Mickey Mouse's confident reply, he licked his Lard Stick, savoring what had been Minnie Mouse only a few hours earlier.

Just then, the missiles made contact. The explosions raced trhough the ship, causing temperatures in Mickey's chamber to rise. The fat mouse burst into blue flames almost a second before he was engulfed in the fireball.

Disney Air Raid Command

0650 hours

"Washington, DC is gone, sir. All bombers are regrouping to attack Phase Two targets," a Disney Officer said ino the microphone at the Orlando Disney Base

"Excellent."

"And, sir, since everything is going to well, I was thinking about my raise . . . two cents an hour isn't enough to support a family and--"

Just then the missiles made contact. His famil would have to find a new means of support.

Pooh's House

0700 hours

"All targets destroyed, Pooh," Piglet announced as he watched the sky light up as all the Disney fighters simultaneously exploded.

"Ooh," Pooh said in awe.

"All of Disney's forces should have been reached by the chain reaction, Winnie-the-Pooh."

Outside, Piglet repeated his message over the loudspeaker.

Animals peeked out from their hiding places. In cities, humans left their bomb shelters and let the early morning sunlight wash over them.

The creatures of the Hundred Acre Woods all watched in awe as shards of the Vengeful Executor burned up in atmosphere, proof that Life, Liberty and Justice will prevail -- actually, it was more like proof that the main characters always win.

Around a blazing fire, deep in the hundred acre woods, stood several silhouetted figures chanting something eerie. It sounded to Pooh more like his tummy grumbling under water. They were trying to contact the Hunny Gods, in hopes of getting Hunny Brand Hunny from above. So far, the only thing that had fallen on Pooh's head was a box of tomatoes that was jettisoned from a passing cargo plane.

Owl took off his hood, and wiped his brow. "I'm sorry, this just isn't working," He said respectfully, hoping not to sound too sacrilegious.

Pooh, following Owl's example and removed his cloak. He straightened his red shirt and sat down on a nearby tree stump. "I wish the Hunny Gods would answer." He opened a can of Diet Hunny Cola and began to choke it down.

"Thou hast angered the Honey Gods!" shouted one of the other cloaked figures. He threw back his hood, and ripped a disrupter pistol out from somewhere in the folds of his dark cloak. He stepped behind the fire so Pooh and Owl could see his face. The other figures fled, still silhouetted by the fire. Pooh dropped his Diet Hunny Cola, spilling the brownish yellow liquid on the soon to be dead grass.

"Eeyore. . ." Owl gasped. He stepped back involuntarily, nearly tripping over the Diet Hunny Cola can. He had already stepped in its contents, the sticky and corrosive substance matting his feathers firmly to his skin.

Eeyore aimed his disrupter at Owl. "That's correct." He swiveled the disruptor to point at Pooh, how was now in the process of straitening his shirt again and squeezing the Diet Hunny Cola out of it. "I've been working for the Umpire, my dear friends. That thermal detonator that killed you, bear--"

"That was a thermal detonator?" Pooh had thought at the time that it was some new type of honey.

"Yes it was. And I was threw it. I set off the pipe bomb on the Bandanna Banana and at your lecture!" Eeyore stopped his gloating and incriminating confessions long enough to let out an uncharacteristic laugh. "Oh, and that anvil that fell on Kanga . . . that was meant for you."

"Why are you telling us this?" Owl interjected.

"This is what evil people do before we kill the good guys." He returned to his aiming. "Die, now, Winnie-the-Corpse." He began to squeeze trigger ever so slowly, savoring the moment.

Suddenly, Eeyore was shot from behind.

Eeyore swiveled around to see who his assailant was. But, as he did, he was vaporized by a blazing streak of yellow phasor energy.

The attacker stepped into the light. "Agent Gopher, CIA. I'm not in the book," he identified himself.

Pooh smiled. "Did you bring any honey, with you?"

In the black void of outer space, no one could hear you scream.

Against the background of the stars, Christopher Robin floated, rotating slowly. His air supply was replenished by the oxygen tank he conveniently happened to have with him. But, it wouldn't last very long.

He could feel the tractor beam pulling him toward the battle station that consisted of two circular sections and a spherical section protruding below. From, his vantage point, Christopher Robin could clearly see that it was in the unmistakably frightening shape of Mickey Mouse's head.

Pooh and Piglet sat at the polished green marble table in the briefing room at Hundred Acre Woods High Command. Pooh leaned back in his chair wondering why he was there and when he would get the Hunny Piglet had promised him. He didn't see any . . . yet. Looking across the room, he noticed for the first time that Owl was standing veiled by the shadows cast by the single naked light bulb swinging on what appeared to be the piece of electrical wire that had mysteriously disappeared from the high voltage lines in front of Pooh's house.

"These are spy satellite photos." Piglet slid an envelope across the table to Pooh, who watched it coast right by and fall onto the floor.

Piglet walked over and picked it up. "Pooh, this is important," he slapped the envelope on the table and opened it. The pictures he pulled out showed an assortment of US Military bases.

"Are these made of honey?" Pooh asked, licking one of the negatives.

"No, Pooh, they're not," Piglet sighed.

"Aww." Pooh put the negative back down on the table and folded his hands.

Just then, Tigger entered through the supposedly locked door. "Hiya, Pooh-bear!" he yelled.

Piglet scowled. "I thought I locked that door . . ."

"You did," Owl said.

Tigger turned to Piglet. "Commander Tigger reporting for duty, Sir. Duty is what Tiggers do best."

"Sure." Piglet and Pooh said together. Piglet sarcastically, for he'd heard it all before. Pooh, on the other hand had decided that capitulation would allow him to acquire some more Hunny Brand Honey.

Tigger unrolled the piece of paper he had been holding. Spreading it out on the table, he jammed his index finger onto it, as if it was an annoying heffalump. "I suggest that we attack here first."

Pooh gasped. He was so aghast that he tipped his chair over. "That's the Hunny Brand Honey Executive Tower! ! !" Pooh cried, lying on the floor. Piglet doubted that Pooh had even seen what Tigger was pointing to yet.

"No, Pooh, that's a Munitions Facility."

"Oh," replied Pooh. And as an afterthought, he added, "Is there honey there?"

"I dunno, I'm gonna have to ask Intellegence to--" Tigger started.

"No, Pooh."

"Oh," the bear slowly climbed back into his chair.

From the corner, Owl spoke up. "Shouldn't we be monitoring Umperial activity?"

Piglet looked to him, disappointed. "Owl," he scolded. "We kicked them clear to the next dimension." He took a sip of his Vulcan Beer, shuddering as the alcohol's mysterious chemicals spread through his veins.

He turned his attention back to Pooh. "The boys on Capital Hill won't let us become the only Communist state."

"So, we're going to rebel in a bloody conflict?" Pooh asked expectantly. Pooh didn't actually like bloody conflicts, he just liked talking about them.

"Absolutely not," replied Piglet as sternly as possible for a very small animal

"Aww." Pooh and Tigger said at the same time.

Piglet went on to describe his ingenious plan to them. It seemed a bit complicated to Pooh, for he was a bear of very little brain. He had spent weeks in rehabilitation after the lobotomy.

"That's all nice, Piglet," said Pooh, patting his tummy. "What about the honey?"

"Pooh-Bear, we're not going to get any honey. We're going to steal some nukes and hold the US hostage until they give us freedom!" Piglet slammed the table so hard with his fist that his shot glass contain the Vulcan Beer dropped from the table and onto the polished floor below.

Even with his complete lack of any naval knowledge, Tigger-- now Commander Tigger despite his lack of qualifications -- found himself placed in command of what quite possibly was the most dangerous and powerful submarine in the world: the Pink September.

The submarine carrying the nukes was powerful and alert. But, Tigger positive his Pink September would remain undetected. Sitting in the captain's chair, he wondered when he'd get the order from Hundred Acre Woods High Command to engage the enemy.

"Sir, the Political Officer is in your quarters," said a voice who's owner Tigger didn't know nor care.

Hearing this, Tigger got up and went to his quarters.

When he got there, he found the Political Officer looking over his books. When he heard Tigger enter, he looked up and quoted, "'Edward Bear sat licking the bottom of his honey jar. Christopher Robin hadn't replenished his honey supply in gasp 10 minutes.

"Just then Christopher Robin entered without even-'"

"Give me that!" Tigger shouted as he grabbed The Revenge of Winnie-the-Pooh away from the Political Officer.

With an annoyingly smug expression the Political Officer with his evilly curling mustache that looked frighteningly like the ones the Disney executives were fond of having said, "Rather disturbing having the commander of the most powerful--nay, dangerous submarine in the universe reading this terrorist and assassination garbage. Makes you kind of wonder what you'll really do with the nuke when you get them." He got out of Tigger's chair and walked leisurely to the weapons locker in the corner.

"My, my, my," the Political Officer shook his head in disapproval of Tigger's weapons stock. "Phasor Rifle . . . Hand Phasor . . . and- oh, what's this?" He continued in mock amusement. He ran his finger along Tigger's favorite weapon, pretending to remove the dust that wasn't on it. "A Discombobulator Launcher. That's hardly standard issue isn't it, Commander?"

"Let's get one thing straight. I'm Tigger. Tee eye double guh er. That spells Tigger. And-"

"I know how to spell your name, Commander," the Political Officer interrupted dryly. He held the Discombobulator out in front of himself, pretending to weigh it.

Tigger chose that moment to bash the Political Officer's head against a pipe.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Tigger shrugged and grabbed the Discombobulator out of the Political Officer's grubby hands. "Before I vaporize you, can I please have the Nuclear Weapons Key?" Tigger asked nicely.

"Uh . . . No."

Tigger reset the Discombobulator to stun. He fired, knocking out his aggravator. "I think I'll put you in the Brig for now. Later . . . however, I'll feed you to a heffalump."

He took the Nuclear Weapons Key from around the Political Officer's neck and put it in his pocket with his own. "Well, that's that. Now to the bridge."

The corridor lighting of the Mickey Mouse station was dark. All the better not to see you with, thought, Gopher. He fairly chuckled at the idea. He looked down the corridor and saw nothing. Little did he know about the Umperial security detail approaching stealthily from the rear.

"Stop right there." Gopher heard the sound of Heavy Disrupter Rifles powering up. Even without looking, he knew they were set to disintegrate.

"Let's get this thing over with," Tigger said to the entire bridge crew. Then he turned to the first officer. "Don't worry, Mr. Sheit. Hijacking submarines full of nucular warheads to hold the United States hostage until the Hundred Acre Wood is granted independence to practice communism is what Tiggers do best," he told Sheit confidently.

Sheit doubted that.

"Hundred Acre Woods High Command reports that we are go to start our attack run." said the Communications Officer.

"All ahead flank, caterpillar drive only," Tigger ordered.

The Pink September lurched forward on its caterpillar drive and Tigger decided that maybe this really was what Tiggers do best. Lifting his No-Spill Navy Mug to his lips, he took as sip of coffee. Then he promptly spit it out. "Yuck!" shouted Tigger. "Tiggers don't like coffee!" He slammed the No-Spill Navy Mug onto the arm of his command chair. Just as promptly as Tigger had spit his coffee out, the mug tipped over.

The sonar officer of the USS Dallas, patrolling off the coast of northern California, was more than a little surprised to hear what he heard. He got up and walked to the captain, to recommend silent running. As he got closer, the captain whirled around an asked, "What is it Jonesey?"

"Perhaps you should hear this, sir." the sonar officer replied. He walked back to his station and punched in the appropriate commands.

After a prolonged silence, faintly, through the speakers, the captain could hear someone shouting, " . . .uck! Tiggers don't like coff . . ."

"What's a 'tigger'?" the captain inquired. In all his years in the US Navy, he had never encountered something that seemed to call itself a "tigger."

"Don't know. I'm running it through the computer now, sir," The sonar officer replayed the sound on his headset once more to confirm that he had it recorded. He leaned back, turning his attention to his copy of "How to Make a Successful First Contact" by Arnold C. Clarke.

A long several minutes passed before the sonar officer spoke up again. "Captain!" he called urgently, nearly falling out of his chair. He picked up "How to Make a Successful First Contact" off of the floor, having dropped it.

"Jonesey . . . What is it?" the sonar officer's urgency was not mirrored in the captain's unwavering voice.

"Did you know that they recommend the Vulcan Salute for first contacts?"

"Jonesey, the 'tigger' thing. . ." the captain implied helpfully. Jonesey had just suffered a severe dose of neutron radiation from the reactor core and was not exactly operating on all thrusters lately.

"Oh. . . Computer identifies 'tigger,'" he made a 'quote' motion with his fingers above his head. ". . . as a Soviet identification code."

"A Soviet sub this far into US waters?" The captain couldn't believe it.

"Looks like, sir."

The captain turned to the Helm officer. "Adjust course to intercept."

"Commander Tigger the US sub is pursuing!" loudly called the sonar officer of the Pink September.

"What?" Tigger yelled, looking to the Caterpillar Drive Control Officer who shrugged innocently.

"The US sub is pursuing," repeated First Officer Sheit. Maybe if everyone would stop yelling, he thought, remembering his commander's outbursts.

"How can they see us?" Tigger asked. He picked up a bottle of Romulan Ale.

"Don't know, sir," Sheit lied, standing next to the Caterpillar Drive Control Officer. "Our Caterpillar Drive appears to be functioning within nominal parameters."

Tigger pulled the cork out. He put his lips to the potent beverage that Piglet had given him. "Yuck," he shouted. "Tiggers don't like Romulan Ale!"

"I've got it again, sir." the Dallas sonar officer called over the intercom from his station to the captain standing six feet away.

The captain looked to him. "Positive, Jonesey?"

Without answering, the sonar officer played what he had just heard. ". . . omander Tigger . . . th . . . ub . . . uing." There was a long silence in which only the sound of the water could be heard. Several times, the captain thought he could hear faint conversation. " . . . uck, Tiggers . . . on't . . .ike Romulan Ale!"

"Hmm," the captain leaned on his fist in deep thought. "Sounds like Russian." He leaned back in his chair. "What the hell is 'Romulan Ale,' Jonesey?"

The sonar officer hesitated as he looked at his monitor screen. "It's either a Soviet attack code, or a highly potent alcoholic beverage. Either way, sir, there's a good chance they're Russian."

"So they really are Russians," the captain noted thoughtfully. He looked up. "Jonesey, verify our range to target . . . one ping only."

The sonar officer complied. A short time thereafter, he reported, "Nine hundred meters and holding, sir."

The captain decided it was time for decisive action. "Prepare a boarding party," he said to the first officer. He addressed the sonar officer again, "Reverify our range to target, Jonesey." He looked to the weapons control officer. "Fire to disable at will."

Tigger had just left the bridge, and was in his quarters, trying to sleep. But, it was hard. The hangover from the two drops of Romulan Ale he had so ignorantly ingested was overwhelming. To add to his discomfort, just as he was falling asleep there was a loud ping vibrating through the hull. Tigger merely assumed it was just the re-fried beans he had eaten for lunch.

Seconds later, he heard a loud explosion. "Hmm, must be the pretzels." said Tigger clutching his stomach.

There was another explosion.

"Maybe it wasn't the pretzels."

Then, there was the sound of rushing water. Then, there was another sound. One that should not ever be heard on a submarine. Metal hitting metal.

First officer Sheit's voice came over the intercom. "All hands, security alert. We are being boarded. Repeat: we are being -" He was cut off. However, the sound of gun fire could be heard for a few seconds before the microphone went totally dead.

The captain of the Dallas stood up. He had just ordered the Soviet sub to be boarded, and he was anxiously waiting word from the boarding party he had sent over on the DSRV mini-sub. Walking slowly over the sonar officer, he asked, "What can you hear, Jonesey?"

The sonar office looked up from his intense concentration. "Macho, macho, macho man . . . I want to be a macho man. Macho, macho--"

"Jonesey, on the Soviet sub." The captain was now really wondering about the sonar officer's mental health.

"Boarding party reports that they have secured the Soviet sub," the sonar officer told his captain, and he continued singing.

"Good."

"Captain, the political officer is in your quarters," said the first officer quickly. "Fine."

The captain walked out of the bridge and climbed the ladder down to the lower deck. Walking down the hall to his quarters, he mentally reviewed the crew manifest. But, after going over it in his head twice, he still couldn't remember anything about a political officer, nor his name. I wonder if there is a neurosurgeon on this sub, he wondered, thinking about his sonar officer as he leisurely opened the door, not anxious to talk to who was within.

Piglet and Pooh waited on either side of the door in the Dallas's captain's cabin. They had just beamed in from Hundred Acre Woods High Command with their commandos, but Piglet suspected Pooh's was still on the transporter pad.

"Ready, Pooh?" Piglet asked.

"Is there Hunny in this hypospray?"

Piglet grabbed the hypospray away from Pooh before the bear had a chance to suck on it. "No, Pooh-Bear. It's a sedative," he said, holding it safely out of Pooh's reach.

"Is that a brand of honey?"

"No."

"Oh, bother."

Just then, the captain of the Dallas walked leisurely in. He walked right by them, without noticing their presence.

Piglet was about to jump him from behind with the hypospray, when Pooh stupidly asked, "Do you have any Hunny Brand Honey?"

The captain turned around. "No, but I do have Sedative Brand Honey."

"I told ya." Pooh said to Piglet in an I'm-still-stupid-but-I-am-right tone of voice.

"Hey, you're not Jonesey or the Political Officer . . . come to think of it, we have no Political Officer on this sub," the captain exclaimed as he saw Piglet, in the corner, trying to conceal the hypospray. "Who are you?"

Piglet handed him his business card. It read:

Piglet

Professional Bounty Hunter

Will Work For Beer

01 Trespassers W.

Hundred Acre Woods 90210

Phone: 1-800-555-PIGLET Fax: 555-BOUNTYPIG

As the captain read the card, (Piglet wondered how long it would take him to realize that there were too many digits in both his fax and phone number) Piglet circled around behind him.

The captain looked up, "That's too many digits-" He was interrupted when Piglet jammed the hypospray into the side of his neck. He dropped onto the cold deck, unconscious.

"Sleep tight," Pooh snickered. Then, he picked up the Sedative Brand Honey, and started to eat it. "Yum."

"He should be out for, oh, say, ten hours," Piglet approximated automatically, not having the slightest idea when he would actually wake up.

With that, Pooh and Piglet waved their team of commandos out of the closet. The marched out, leaving the unconscious captain behind.

Christopher Robin, ensconced in his lavish Umperor's quarters, finished buttoning his crisp new uniform and went to look at himself in the mirror. He liked it, but the color, tannish, reminded him of something.

But, what was it? He could feel the realization creeping up his cranium.

Pooh.

There was no name more vile than that. It struck fear into the hearts of the combined forces of Disney and Umpire.

Perhaps it is for that reason that the uniforms are that color. Or, maybe mine just has a mustard stain on it.

He stepped out of his spacious quarters, and was greeted by a Disney Stormtrooper.

"Bodyguard?" Christopher Robin asked.

The storm trooper shifted under the white armor, unsettled. He then fixed his Mickey mouse helmet. After several seconds of hesitation, he replied, "Yweessss, swehr."

Christopher Robin somehow understood. "Not necessary." He left the storm trooper fumbling with his translator and proceeded to the bridge.

"Umperor on deck!" shouted the deck officer as the doors parted before Christopher Robin, allowing him to enter the Mickey Mouse Station's bridge.

All the Umperial officers on the bridge instantly stood up, respectfully. However, the Disney officers remained seated, unsure if the Umperor was truly their superior.

The captain of the station remained in his chair, even as Christopher Robin approached. He was human, like Christopher Robin, yet he had opted to join with the Disney Forces. Now, of course, he was once again under Umperial rule.

Christopher Robin walked right by the captain, and proceeded to inspect the display screens. "All ships operational?" he asked, facing the screen. "They are," he answered himself. But, it was more of an order than a mere statement.

"All except the Umperial Attack Cruiser Gory Dismemberment, Umperor Christopher Robin," the captain finally said.

Christopher Robin turned to him. "They are," Christopher Robin ordered once more. "You have had more than enough time to complete repairs, Captain."

The captain's face turned white. "With all due respect-"

"Unless you plan to complete that statement with something truly respectful, I suggest you shut up . . . for your sake," Christopher Robin snapped. He then assumed a more calm posture and in a quite unantagonistic tone of voice, he addressed the bridge crew. "We will go with what we have."

"Aye, my lord," the captain finally abandoned his chair to the Umperor.

"Everybody away from you stations now!" Piglet shouted as he burst onto the Dallas's bridge. Pooh stood next to him, his phasor still holstered. Ignoring all of his surroundings, he was attempting to get the last drop of Sedative Brand Honey.

When he finally accepted the fact that he would never get it, he looked up. ". . . and surrender all of your honey to us."

The bridge crew quickly slid all of their honey to Pooh. Jonesey slid his tape of "Macho Man," too.

The commandos fanned out, taking station at each of the consoles. The bridge crew yielded too them, jumping up from their seats to be escorted to the brig.

"Release the Pink September!" Piglet ordered the commandos occupying the DSRV Control and Docking Control station.

A short time later the Pink September and the newly captured Dallas were moving in tandem toward Hundred Acre Woods High Command.

Owl, Piglet and Pooh sat facing the large monitor screen in the Hundred Acre Woods High Command Command Center. Built as a spaceport set for the failed Star Wars: The Next Generation, it now served as the Command Center for the entire Hundred Acre Woods Militia. They were now using most of the real equipment to read over the classified files they had obtained from the Dallas's main computer. Thus far, the only thing they were able to decode was some recipes on how to cook Sedative Brand Hunny. It interested Pooh, but no one else seemed to care.

"What's this?" said Owl. "Go back fifteen lines, Pooh."

Pooh moved the file back fifteen lines.

"'Agent Gopher at Umperial Outpost for surveillance,'" Piglet read. He turned to Owl. "Why didn't we know about this?"

"Perhaps you should have put more resources into monitoring the Umpire than into our rebellion."

Piglet read on. He gasped. "It says here that they haven't received a message from Gopher in eight days!"

"No wonder he's not in the book," Pooh said.

Piglet walked quickly across the main landing area at the Hundred Acre Woods High Command, wary of any craft landing. He was A Very Small Animal, so pilots often had trouble spotting him. He stopped at a nondescript Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle. He walked up the ramp, and entered.

"Piglet, I think if we increase the dilithum wavelength to a molecular variance while vectoring the positronic neutrinos to a composite magnetomic flux, we could increase the Ionic Propulsion capacity in the integrity scaffolding by a factor of one percent," Pooh gleefully informed Piglet, as he entered the cockpit. Pooh saluted him with his Hyper-Alloy Inclined Cylinder Indentation Rotator (Piglet called it a screwdriver).

Piglet sat down. "Pooh, I have no idea what you just said."

Pooh scowled. "Don't you know anything about the Flux Capacity of the Ionic Propulsion?"

Piglet shook his head.

"Oh."

Owl called from the engine room. "Pooh, you were right, the Photon Cloaking Inversion Device is functioning within normal parameters."

"What?" Piglet asked, suddenly feeling as if he was the only one who didn't understand.

"The cloaking device bends light around the ship," Pooh explained, happy that he seemed smarter than someone.

Piglet still didn't understand. He responded with silence.

Pooh sighed. "Let's pretend that I am the ship." He waited for that to sink in. "You can see me because light reflects of me. When you bend that light around be, so I doesn't touch, it cannot reflect."

Owl, who had enter several seconds ago, spoke up. "It also bend the light behind you, so it appears in front of you."

By now, Piglet was so confused that he had forgotten why he cared. "Whatever, guys." Piglet raised his hands in half surrender. "Are we ready to launch?"

Pooh checked the status board. "All systems nominal, Piglet." Pooh sat in the co-pilot's chair next to Piglet. He hadn't even performed the pre-flight checks yet. What are the chances or anything going wrong? Pooh attempted to think. He then decided that he would use the battery from the smoke detector in his phasor.

Piglet nodded, and strapped himself in. Owl and Pooh did the same.

Pooh fired the engines, and with a sputter of protest, they lit. White plasmic ion magnetomic neutrenous exhaust rushed out of the vector output positron ejector, pushing the craft slowly off the Landing Pad.

Owl held onto the edge of his seat, and looked around. "She's a bit shaky, P-p-p-p-piglet-t-t-t-t," he warned. The word "Piglet" was slurred, due to a violent outburst of vibration.

Across the cockpit, Piglet was wrestling to maintain control over the control stick. Being a Very Small Animal it caused him a great deal of trouble. "Th-th-there's no-no-nothing I-i-i-i c-c-c-can do-o-o-o," He sputtered loudly over the vibration.

Abruptly, the ship ceased its infernal vibrating, and the sky was replaced with stars as the Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle cleared the Earth's atmosphere

"So pretty," Pooh muttered.

Owl and Pooh agreed.

"Hey, I think I see the constellation Urion," Pooh added, his mouth dropped open in awe.

"Pooh, get your hand off the waste-dump activator."

"I wont tell you anything, Umperial scum!" Gopher yelled, spitting in the face of his interrogator. Behind him, hovered an Interrogation droid ready to extract all information from Gopher.

The Umperial didn't respond at first. "Umperor Christopher Robin will not be pleased." He clapped his hands, and the Interrogation droid hovered closer to Gopher. "This will hurt you more than it will hurt me." With that, the Umperial swung around to face the door. He left confident that his droid would get all the information that he couldn't get himself.

The captain was not pleased.

The Umperial Interrogation Officer knew it without even looking at his face.

"This is all, lieutenant?" the captain asked, not expecting an answer. "Surely an officer of the Umperial Navy can get better information then this."

The captain was a Disney Officer, and with his rank, he was allowed to share his views about their allies. He didn't like the alliance with the Umpire. It disgusted him that Disney could sink so low. His views on the subject were the same as his inferiors.

The Interrogation Officer, on the other hand, was Umperial. He didn't dislike Disney-- he wasn't allowed to. Even an officer whose rank was the equivalent of the captain's could not even possess any opinions.

"Lieutenant, if this is the best the you can do, then perhaps you should be cleaning toilets." continued the captain, making up and down motion with his hands as if he was operating a Hyper-Plunger.

The Interrogation Officer slowly moved his hand in the general direction of his sidearm. Thus far, the captain didn't seem to notice. "Gopher simply had no information, sir."

The captain glared at him, but relaxed a little. "Then he is to be executed."

"Yes, sir." The Interrogation Officer turned and left.

"Prepare to enter Sub-Dimensional Transtator Geometric Relativistic Space on my mark." Pooh announced from his seat in the cockpit of the Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle. He put his honey covered hand on the throttle.

Piglet didn't understand, so Pooh repeated himself. That time, Piglet suddenly understood. "You mean Light Speed?"

Pooh nodded. "I guess you could call it that."

"Ready," Piglet said.

"Mark."

Piglet pushed the throttle forward as far as it could go as the assault shuttle jumped into Sub-Dimensional Transtator Geometric Relativistic Space at speeds incomprehensible to the human imagination.

Piglet and Pooh unstrapped themselves. They swung around their chairs and went to see Owl in the living area.

Owl looked up at their entrance. "Estimated time of arrival?"

"Ten hours." Piglet responded automatically although he actually had absolutely no idea what so ever. All the calculations that Pooh had given him where just as confusing as the Ion Drive.

Owl seemed satisfied with that. He gestured to his PADD. "Pooh, if we realign the Intermix Paralysis Transfer Unit to a Hypertronic Ratio, it would cause a point oh one increase in the photon torpedo power."

Piglet didn't bother to ask what that meant, and left to his private quarters. Once there, he read over the mission particulars that Tigger had given to him. They where vague, and most of it he already knew. Infiltrate the Umperial Base using stolen shuttle . . . Extract Gopher . . . Return to Hundred Acre Woods High Command.

Piglet found himself trying to scroll the screen down, but, to his disappointment, the particulars where as vague as they where six minutes ago.

He went to liquor cabinet and pulled out a Romulan Ale. To his dismay, he remembered that Pooh and Owl had poured it into the engines for an extra point zero zero one percent more thrust.

They were probably going half a mile faster now.

The Gamma-class assault shuttle dropped from hyperspace at the correct coordinates. But there were no Disney or Umperial ships docked at the Mickey Mouse Station except the Umperial Attack Cruiser Gory Dismemberment and three smaller orbiting craft, DSS Homicidal Manic, DSS Person Masher and the DSS Planet Cleanser That Has Bleach And Blue.

Apparently, the Umperials and Disney have the and Disney have the same tastes in names for their ships, thought Piglet.

Pooh engaged the cloaking device. He then scanned for a way into the station. To his dismay the Alliance (Disney and Umpire) had not had the presence of mind to leave an airlock opened for them.

How rude, Pooh tried to think.

"No way in, huh?" Piglet asked, trying to make sense of Owl and Pooh's new Heavily Underpowered Nothingness Negotiator Yeutronic sensors. Piglet wondered if the long name was just an excuse to use Hunny as an acronym.

"If we weren't cloaked, we could do something about it." Pooh replied. "Then, if I could get some Hunny-"

"The sensors or the food?"

"I forgot," Pooh was a bear of very little short term memory.

Just then, the Disney ships -- DSS Person Masher, DSS Homicidal Maniac, DSS Planet Cleanser That Has Bleach And Blue -- and the Umperial ship -- Gory Dismemberment -- started firing at each other for no apparent reason. The Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle was shaken when a straying torpedo hit it.

"Who's rocking the boat?" yelled Owl from the crawlspace. Then, there was a loud bang and the sound of some tools falling. "Dash it all!"

The DSS Homicidal Maniac, now critically damaged, decided to ram the offending Umperial vessel. It accelerated into the volley of disrupter fire being poured upon it by its intended target.

Suddenly, a lucky shot by the Umperial vessel melted the Homicidal Maniac's portside engine into a blob of unidentifiable steel. Due the sudden lack of portside thrust, the Homicidal Maniac jerked in that direction. As the pilot fought a losing battle for control, the Gory Dismemberment scored another hit on the nearly derelict ship, vaporizing the portside reaction control thrusters.

In a desperate attempt to reverse course, the Homicidal Maniac's pilot fired the undamaged starboard thrusters, hoping to rotate the ship. Alas, it was too late, and the maneuver only succeeded in deteriorating the already suicidal course toward the station.

Then, the DSS Homicidal Maniac collided with the station in a very pretty fireball. When the smoke cleared, it was visible that the explosion and impact had torn a huge gaping hole in the station's landing bay door.

"That's our ticket in!" Pooh said, noticing the gaping hole first. He pointed to it.

"What luck!" Piglet fell back into his seat as Pooh flew the cloaked shuttle through the remaining crossfire to the hole.

Behind them, the Planet Cleanser That Has Bleach And Blue exploded, taking a large chunk of the Gory Dismemberment with it. The Gory Dismemberment itself continued to fire on the remaining Disney ship. Before it could finish the job, however, the Person Masher rendered the Gory Dismemberment a lifeless hulk to drift into the nearby black hole. After transmitting a weak radio distress signal, the Person Masher too exploded.

Pooh headed for the shuttle's airlock and confidently reached the release lever. Piglet and Owl dove on him, prying his hand off it.

"Pooh, no!" Piglet shouted, pulling Pooh's thumb back as Owl worked on his other unnamed mitten-like finger.

"It's not pressurized out there!" Owl explained frantically.

Pooh had no idea what pressurized meant, so he thrust out with his free hand, grabbing the lever. With a burst of adrenaline he pulled it. The hatch swung open. The air rushed out of the shuttle into the airless void of the landing bay.

"Oops." Pooh mouthed, having no air to carry the sound.

Piglet scrambled for the space suit locker. Upon opening it, he chucked one to Owl and one to Pooh. Then he took one for himself. It took them only a few seconds to get their suits on due to the huge one-size-fit-all size. Piglet and Owl could barely reach the gloves (Piglet especially), although it fit Pooh perfectly. Once they where secured inside their suits, Piglet dispensed a Phasor Rifle to each of them, and took a Heavy Phasor Cannon for himself. "We meet back here in two hours." Piglet informed his companions via the headset radio.

Owl checked his tricorder. "There's a dampening field in effect here," He said. "I doubt that we'll be able to communicate any more until we meet back at the shuttle."

"Agreed."

"I want Hunny."

The left the landing bay separately. Piglet assigned himself the Western Mickey Mouse Ear. Owl opted for the Eastern Mickey Mouse Ear. Pooh, who wasn't paying attention, having been attempting to eat some Hunny through his helmet, was stuck with the spherical Mickey Mouse Head.

Owl marched through the darkened corridors thinking about his relations. Several times he got lost, but always found his way or got lost differently. He found the main training area, but it appeared to be cleared out. This was, however, and excellent opportunity to get the intelligence data that he was itching for. He walked into the training area, scanning for life forms. Turning around, he found himself facing a disgustingly ugly creature. A Jagular, Owl knew.

Owl stepped back. "Greetings," he said timidly. He reached for the Phasor Rifle he had strapped to the back of his pressure suit. "Uh . . ." he continued. " I'm selling . . . I'm selling . . . uh . . . I'm selling Phasor Rifles." He pulled the rifle out. "And wouldn't you just love to be the first on the station to have this spiffy new weapon?"

The jagular appeared to be interested. "How much?"

Owl aimed the rifle at nothing in particular. "Well, for you . . . nineteen ninety-five." Owl moved his aim closer to the jagular. "It's my first and last offer." Owl ran his free wing along the polished white casing. "But, if you done want it . . ."

The jagular reached into his jacket.

Owl began to duck, expecting a gun.

But, instead, the jagular pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Here," said he, waving the bill. He reached for the Phasor Rifle.

Owl swiveled the rifle away from the Jagular's grasp. "I don't take cash," he informed him, definitely beginning to enjoy the experience. The jagular put the twenty in his pocket. Then, he reached into his jacket. Owl didn't duck, expecting a check book or credit card. The Jagular whipped out a gun. He fired uncontrollably at Owl, the sound echoing off the walls.

Owl looked down at his suit. "Hmm." He noted the small dents made by the bullets. "Must be bullet-proof." He raised his Phasor Rifle yet again. A yellow streak of phasor energy burst from the emmiter, as he pressed the firing mechanism.

Falling down, the Jagular was knocked unconscious from the blast. He dropped his gun, which fired once more, the bullet tearing a small hole in the hull across the room.

Owl bent over the Jagular's body. He reached into the pocket to steal the twenty. His hand came out with the twenty and a copy of the jagular's mission orders. But, before he could read them, the air rushing out the rapidly enlarging breach tore the orders out of Owl hand. Running after the paper, he dove for it just before it was sucked into space. That done, he left, sealing the room behind him.

Piglet walked the hallways as confidently as a Very Small Animal possibly could. He was mildly comforted by the fact that his Heavy Phasor Cannon was powerful enough to cut straight through a block of solid Jell-O. As he turned a corner, he thought he saw a shadowy figure silhouetted in the distance. Piglet ran after it. After many minutes of chasing, Piglet finally cornered the thing. He shined his light on it.

"Jagular." Piglet whispered.

The jagular snickered.

Piglet asked, "What are you doing here, scum?"

The jagular handed Piglet its business card. It read:

Jagular

Goon For Hire

56 Anarchy Way

Scary Uncharted Place, Hundred Acre Woods 90210

Phone: 1-888-MOO-JAGULAR

The jagular kicked Piglet as he looked up from reading the card. Piglet fell backwards, already pulling his Heavy Phasor Cannon out of its holster. He was surprised that he had fallen for the same trick that he had done to the Dallas's captain just days ago. Piglet lined up the shot as fast as he could. Then he squeeze the trigger. A bolt of yellow phasor energy streaked out from the emitter and vaporized the jagular.

Pooh was patrolling the corridors of the Mickey Mouse Head as ordered, when he realized he hadn't peed since Silly Ol' Bear Episode IV. He ducked into the nearest lavatory. He pulled the unwieldy helmet off, he entered the nearest stall, sucking in the disgusting air of the men's room. Suddenly, Pooh heard voices outside. They were getting closer. Pooh jumped up onto the toilet seat, his helmet still under his arm.

". . .And I said, you ain't payin' sixty dollars for a damn toaster oven!" said the first person to enter the bathroom.

"Why you always fightin' wit' her?" replied the other.

"I like da way she fights-hey . . . did you hear something?"

Pooh could hear the other person take a step toward his stall.

"Only the sound of stupidity." the second person replied, having not heard any sound.

Pooh was suddenly very nervous. He wondered if he sounded like stupidity. He lost his balance trying to contemplate further. Desperately, Pooh put his hand on the wall to steady himself. In doing so, he dropped his helmet into the toilet. It made a loud plunk noise, and the water sloshed over the side of the toilet.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear that." the first person persisted.

"That, I heard." The two people-guards-moved cautiously in the general direction of Pooh's stall.

Piglet was just about finishing his look around the Western Mickey Mouse ear, when he finally came upon what he was looking for - the Detention area. He looked in one of the windows on the doors, only to see what he already suspected. There, was Gopher behind a force-field, guarded by at least three troopers. Piglet was not so stupid as to try to break Gopher out himself. The two hours he had to explore were almost up, so he made his way back to the landing bay.

Owl arrived back at the landing bay several minutes late, and found Piglet waiting for him in the shuttle. But, Pooh was not there.

"You know where Pooh is?" Piglet asked, at the weapons locker, trading in his Heavy Phasor Cannon, for the more powerful Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit. Piglet then put in on the table, the Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit being almost too heavy to bear for long periods of time.

"Nope." Owl replied, pouring himself a non-alcoholic beverage. "But I did see-"

"Hey, d-d-don't put your non-alcoholic crud in my cups," Piglet interrupted. He then pulled the cup away from Owl and started to pour dishwasher detergent into it. "Now, what where you going to say?"

"I found a Jagular," Owl repeated dryly. " . . . and I got a copy of its mission orders."

Piglet nodded distractedly, and continued to pour dishwasher detergent into the contaminated cup. "I see." He squeezed harder on the detergent bottle. "What did they say?"

"Well, apparently, Disney left a two jagular's here to kill anyone that came to do what we're going to do," Owl replied.

Piglet stopped squeezing detergent into the cup for a second. "What happened to the Alliance forces?"

Owl skimmed the dirtied piece of paper that had the jagular's mission orders. "It appears that they have left. . . to invade Earth."

"I see." Piglet opened a new detergent bottle, the previous one having been emptied. "I found Gopher in the Western Ear," Piglet blurted, pouring more detergent into the cup.

There was silence for a short period of time. Then Owl asked, "Where's Pooh?"

Piglet looked at the chronometer on the wall. He noted the time. "It's not like him to be this late. Being a bear of very little brain, Pooh could not afford to be late. He found that when he was, everyone thought he drowned in a Hunny pot.

"We've gotta find Pooh-Bear before we break Gopher out."

Owl agreed.

The cup overflowed with detergent.

The guards opened the stall farthest from Pooh. "This one's empty," one of them announced. "Try the next one."

Pooh held his breath.

They opened the stall right next to Pooh's. "I smell bear," said one of them.

"Me too," replied the other.

"Me three," said Pooh.

"That stall!" The guards quickly opened the next stall.

There, Pooh stood upon the toilet seat, his helmet bobbing up and down in the toilet water. He held a Hyper-Plunger in a defensive position. "If you do not step away now, I will have to plunge you!" Pooh warned.

"Go ahead plunge me," smugly challenged the guard with seniority.

Pooh squeezed the plunging mechanism. The rubber Hyper Suction Unit began to vibrate, but it didn't seem to be doing anything to the guards. Pooh tossed the useless Hyper-Plunger to one of the guards and jumped onto the top of the wall separating the stalls.

The guard who received the Hyper-Plunger dropped it onto the tiled floor. "Let's get 'im!" shouted he, starting to climb the wall.

Pooh began to get up from were he crouched leaning against the real wall, forgetting that the ceiling was half an inch above his head. He bashed his cranium into it, and, if he had had a brain, it would probably be damaged. Momentarily stunned, Pooh dropped into the stall next to the one now occupied only by his helmet.

Pooh got onto his hands and knees, and crawled under the walls separating the stalls. He got up when he ran out of stalls, realizing he had lost all of his weapons somewhere on his way. He looked around, only to see the guards waiting for him and more marching in through the open door.

Winnie-the-Pooh was trapped.

Piglet, with his Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit and Owl with nothing but his wits attempted to find Pooh. It was not difficult, because he always left a trail of honey behind.

So the followed the trail, which looped and curved aimlessly as Pooh had done. Piglet went ahead scanning the area with his eyes and Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit for any heffalumps, woozles, jagular's, or Disney and Imperial officers. Owl stayed behind, listening for Pooh. He was pretty sure that they would be able to hear his tummy rumbling.

"Who are you, bear?" asked a guard, leveling a disrupter pistol at Pooh. Pooh was sitting on the sink, hoping to be sucked down the drain.

"I'm a Care-Bear," Pooh replied honestly. For that moment at least, he truly thought he was a Care-Bear. Only after saying so did he actually realize the tactical advantage of impersonating a Care-Bear.

"Oh," said all the guards simultaneously. The majority of the guards lowered their weapons.

One guard didn't buy it. "I don't buy it," accused the guard. He kept his disrupter pistol aimed at Pooh. "If you're really a Care-Bear, how come you don't have a happy thing on your tummy?"

The accusation suddenly reminded Pooh that he had exhausted his supply of honey. And, that made his tummy rumble.

"It's Pooh the Destroyer of Mouse!" the guards shouted. They started toward Pooh, hatred in their eyes. All of them unsheafed their ceremonial butcher knives. They began to make cutting motions with them, the blades grazing Pooh's nicely washed and conditioned fur.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Pooh screamed, seeing what they had done to his fur. "Split ends!"

"Hair's not all that's gonna be split," a guard cackled, raising his butcher knife above his head. He began the down stroke . . .

All of the sudden, the guard was blasted into a stall, his face into the toilet. Pooh could hear the guard shriek in agony in a bubbly voice: "Who forgot to flush?"

In the doorway, stood Piglet, his Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit aimed at the surprised guards. Beside him, stood Owl, who had heard Pooh's tummy all the way from the Eastern Ear.

"Put those butcher knives on the floor and slide them to me," Owl ordered.

Most of the guards did as they were told, but one guard decided to chuck his butcher knife at Owl. Piglet vaporized it in mid air with his Modular Phase-Disintegration Unit.

Pooh, Owl and Piglet then exited, (after taking the guards money and disrupter pistols first, of course) making sure to weld the door shut, sealing the guards in.

Piglet, Pooh and Owl looked through the smeared glass window into the detention area. They could see Gopher in a small alcove. A force-field was the only thing keeping him in. That was easy enough, but now there were seven guards around him, pacing with their disrupter pistols still in their holsters.

"Go?" Owl asked quietly.

"No." Piglet whispered.

"Go?"

"No"

"Honey?"

"No."

"Aww."

"Go?"

"Now!" Piglet, Owl and Pooh bashed through the door and began firing at everything that moved.

Owl raised his stolen disrupter pistol and picked off a guard that was trying to unsheaf his ceremonial butcher knife. He just knocked out the guard, but vaporized the knife.

Another guard, in the corner, set his disrupter to overload. He chucked it at Pooh, hoping that the disrupter's explosion would take Pooh with it. It bumped to a stop, not two feet from the bear. Pooh thought, for that moment, that the disrupter was a soccer ball and kicked it at the force-field. "Goal!" he yelled, raising both of his hands as high above his head as he could. The disrupter exploded, overloading the force field causing its generator to burst into flames. With the field out, Gopher leaped out of the alcove, and grabbed a disrupter right out of the holster of the guard who was supposed to be guarding him. He then knocked him unconscious with the handle.

"Let's get out of here!" Gopher shouted over the crossfire. He tried to jump over a fallen guard, but, with his stubby gopher legs, he tripped.

Seeing the opportunity, the lone remaining guard dove for Gopher, hauling his upright, and holding a disrupter pistol to his head. Stepping back into the doorway to the jail cell alcove, he shouted, "Put you weapons down, or I'll blow the ground hog's brains out!"

"I'm a gopher," Gopher interjected. "There's a difference."

Pooh raised his stolen disrupter pistol. Piglet kicked it out of his hand. "Don't," he told the bear. "You'll risk hitting Gopher."

The guard pushed his disrupter harder into Gopher's head. "I told you to put your weapons down -- now!"

Piglet, Owl and Pooh carefully placed all of their weapons on the cold deck.

"Good," the disgruntled guard snickered wickedly. "I'm going to kill him anyway."

"This was never a condition of the agreement!" Owl pointed at him angrily.

The guard snickered again. "There was no agreement. I never agreed."

"OK, then . . ." Piglet muttered coolly.

"What?" the guard, Pooh, Owl and Gopher cried.

Piglet didn't answer. "Whatever you say . . ." In a blur of motion, Piglet's leg whipped out, striking his disrupter laying on the deck.

The weapon soared into the air. It rolled on the barrels axis twice before making contact with the new force-field control panel on the wall. The force-field flickered limply, and seeming futilely, but the guard, his arm almost completely on the other side of the field, yelled in pain and released his grasp on Gopher.

Gopher stepped forward, swiveled around, and shoved the guard's arm into the force field, trapping the disgruntled officer in the alcove. "Let's go."

With that, Piglet, Gopher, Pooh and Owl left, making sure to weld the door shut behind them.

As soon as they got out Gopher noticed something had changed about the station from the last time he had walked freely in the corridors. "Where is everybody?" he asked. "When I was spying, this place was crawling with Disney and Umperial Officers."

"It does seem a bit strange . . ." Pooh replied, trailing off.

"They're attacking Earth," Piglet explicated.

Owl added, "The Hundred Acre Woods especially."

Commander Tigger paced back and forth across Hundred Acre Woods High Command Command Center nervously. A huge fleet of Disney and Umperial warships had just come out of hyperspace and were now orbiting anxiously, waiting for orders. He had sent Admiral Sheit to intercept them, but the good admiral had failed. The admiral stupidly retreated back to Earth - where the Alliance was going in the first place. Now, the Alliance was just orbiting. Every once and a while, a scout ship would swoop low and be shot down, but that was it.

The Hundred Acre Woods' forces were not plentiful enough to withstand an attack of the magnitude that the Alliance was clearly planning. With his options so severely limited, Tigger had no better choice than to go to the Scary Uncharted Area of the Hundred Acre Woods to respectfully request aid from the Heffalumps, Woozles and Jagular's who inhabited that dark and scary place. It's gonna be hard, but requesting aid from barbaric beings that live in a dark and mildew prone place is what tiggers do best, thought Tigger.

"Lieutenant Zonavabitch, you make sure nothing goes wrong while I'm gone," Tigger ordered, bouncing on his tail and gathering all the peanuts he could find.

The lieutenant formerly known as Janitor Zonavabitch nodded sharply and asked, "Where will you be going sir?"

"Where no Tigger has gone before," replied Tigger, still bouncing and gathering peanuts.

"I'll have a chopper ready, sir."

Tigger landed his chopper near a gorge at the edge of the Scary Uncharted Area of the Hundred Acre Woods. He jumped out. And while surveying the area, he unloaded the peanuts.

A heffalump emerged from the shadows, dressed in an Ambassador's uniform. "I am Hannibal of Heffalumpia," greeted the heffalump. "I am here to talk to you about peanuts."

Another heffalump emerged from the shadows, carrying a Submolecular Degravitaion Device.

"This is George," introduced Hannibal of Heffalumpia. "If you make any kind of hostile move toward me, George will degravitate your atoms."

A woozle emerged from the shadows, making Tigger wonder just how many of them there were.

"I am the Woozleland Ambassador," introduced the woozle. He leveled a blaster at Tigger. "Save your infernal bouncing for later. It is positively obnoxious." To make it clear that he wasn't joking, he shot the chopper's landing sled, vaporizing the left support.

Tigger abruptly stopped bouncing.

The Gamma-Class Assault Shuttle emerged from hyperspace and nearly rammed into the Umperial Command Cruiser Kill Kill Kill. It ignored the little shuttle, having more important things to do. Pooh set the vector for landing, throttling down the Ion Drive. He turned to Piglet who was co-piloting, "I hope the honey doesn't weigh us down."

"What honey?"

"Oh, the honey we got from the USS Dallas."

Piglet was shocked. "You brought it with us?"

"Correction: we brung it with us."

Piglet jumped out of his seat. "We've got to jettison it!"

"Jettison what?" Gopher asked from the crew compartment.

"The honey!" Piglet said in a Not Very Small Voice.

"No!!!!" screamed Pooh. He jerked the shuttle into a barrel roll, smashing into a Disney Fighter, which exploded weakly on impact (Disney didn't care about one pilot, so they didn't bother making the ship out of metal. As far as Hundred Acre Woods Intelligence knew, the ships were most likely made out of cardboard.).

"Fine." Piglet said, finally giving up.

The shuttle rocked as it hit Earth's atmosphere. It began to shake violently, as it had at take off.

"S-s-s-s-s-steady, old girl," said Pooh patting the instrument panel.

The shuttle suddenly jerked upside down. Pooh and Piglet tried to get it right side up, but they couldn't. The shuttle suddenly went into a nose dive, shedding altitude like a falling cow.

"Th-th-th-that's it!" Piglet yelled over the vibration. He climbed out of his seat, and crawled out of the pilot's compartment. He forced himself up when he got to the Cargo Control Panel. He jammed his finger down on the button marked: Jettison Cargo.

With the extra weight gone, Piglet and Pooh were able to pull the shuttle out of the nose dive.

Christopher Robin stood in front of his throne on the command room of the Umperial Command Cruiser Rusty Nail. "All ships to attack positions. Prepare to engage on my mark," he said into the ship-to-ship communications microphone. "Enga--"

"Sir!" shouted the Umperial Communications Officer. "We're receiving a distress call."

Christopher Robin sighed. "Origin?"

"Can't tell, sir," replied the Communications Officer.

"What does it say?" Christopher Robin was becoming inpatient. In the good old days, I would have shot him already, thought he.

"It says: 'DSS Person Masher to Disney fleet . . .'" the Communications Officer hesitated. "Well, suffice it to say, sir, the Person Masher tried to sell the Umperial ship Gory Dismemberment a Mickey Mouse comb for . . . twenty-nine billion, seven hundred thirty-two million, forty-six thousand and one dollars."

"And?"

"Well, sir, they bought it. . . and according to what the Person Masher received in a transmission from Gory Dismemberment , the comb broke the first time the captain tried to use it."

"That's terrible." Christopher Robin leaned closer to the ship-to-ship microphone. "Umperial ships: attack the Disney ships. They sold us cheep merchandise at an inflated price!"

Tigger's communicator bleeped. Tigger picked it up. "Yeah, what is it?" he growled into the microphone.

"It's Piglet, Tigger."

"I don't know any 'Piglettigger.' "

"Tigger, it's Piglet."

"Oh . . . Back so soon?"

"Yep." Piglet answered. "Listen, the Alliance ships are firing on one another. Looks like they're doing our job for us."

"Really?" Tigger replied. "What am I hanging around here for?" He asked himself, eyeing the Heffalumps and Woozle.

Tigger then jumped into his chopper, chucked the peanuts at Hannibal and flew away. The Scary Uncharted Area inhabitants were left wondering what had just happened.

Tigger, Owl, Gopher and Piglet watched the Main Screen at the Hundred Acre Woods High Command Command Center with glee. Piglet laughed as the Disney Attack Cruiser You Broke It You Bought It disabled the Umperial Personnel Transport Carrying People For Your Lack Of Pleasure. Tigger pointed at a piece of Umperial Frigate that smashed into the Disney Destroyer Merchandise.

Then Gopher had a naughty idea. He pointed to the ICBM launch button. "You guys wanna help them along?"

Everyone said yes.

Gopher pushed the button, and watch the screen in awe as a single ICBM made contact with the Umperial Command Ship Bloody Spear Hurled By A Barbarian With Terrible Head Lice And If That Isn't Bad Enough The Blood On The Spear Isn't Even Your Blood Type Ha Ha Ha Now You Shall Die Even More Gruesomely Than Your Poor Unfortunate Companions That Have Already Been Slain. The resulting explosion was so spectacular, that Gopher launched more ICBMs.

Piglet slipped out of the building, and went to Pooh, who was sitting on his Thinking Log in his Thinking Spot. He looked depressed.

"What's wrong, Pooh-Bear?" Piglet asked, sitting down beside him.

"All the honey's gone."

Piglet looked at Pooh sympathetically. Over Pooh's shoulder he could see Pooh's house. It was covered with Honey Pots. Some were smashed, bleeding their Hunny Brand Honey or Sedative Brand Hunny of Stingers Included Brand Honey. A few pots were miraculously in tact, while others were vaporized on impact. Hanging by its magnetic tape above a pool of honey was the Dallas's sonar officer's tape of "Macho Man". "Pooh, look!" Piglet said, standing up.

Pooh stood up, too. Seeing what Piglet was seeing, he exclaimed, "Piglet, I do believe you jettisoned the honey onto my house."

Piglet crossed the Poohstix bridge in quite a hurry, paying no mind to the protesters who now seemed to constantly follow him. It wasn't as if Piglet didn't believe the protesters were entitled to their opinion, but, they had lost his respect when a large mob of them followed him into his outhouse.

He opened the doors to the great Hundred Acre Woods High Command building only enough to admit himself. Once in, he had only to pass seven or eight security checkpoints to enter the conference room.

Tigger was already in there, lecturing Owl, Gopher and Pooh on why the his proposal for the Republic of the Hundred Acre Woods flag had a picture of a heffalumps rear end upon it.

"So, look, the rear end symbolizes our intellectual superiority to the degenerates residing in the Scary Uncharted Area," he was saying, trying hard not to bounce on his tail so not to appear foolish. He utterly failed at that, however. Tigger suffered from a chronic illness that caused periodical spasms of the muscles in his tail and legs.

Piglet clapped sharply and politely nudged Tigger from his place at the front of the room.

"Hey, I wasn't done yet!" protested Tigger.

"Yes you are." Piglet allowed Tigger to sit down before continuing. "Ladies--"

Pooh looked around. "There aren't any ladies here."

"Yes there are," Piglet persisted. "Due to a severe lack of characters, we have reincarnated Kanga."

"We can do that now?" Pooh asked, wondering whether Piglet could reincarnate the magical bacteria that turned his ham sandwich into a blob of honey-like goo (it also tasted like honey) in just a few months.

"Actually, we can't really. It just kinda happened."

"Doesn't everything . . ." Kanga said wistfully, feeling profound.

Just then, something "just kinda happened."

Two yellow bears barged into the room. They both looked much like Pooh, but both were old and one was clearly female. They marched to the front of the room like they thought they owned the place.

"Halloo!" Blurted the male bear.

Pooh sunk into he seat.

"Halloo!" Tigger responded reflexively.

Piglet was not amused. "Just who the heck are you?" he demanded in a very large voice for a very small animal.

"Well," the male bear started, "I'm Edmund Bear and this here is my lovely wife Winona-the-Pooh."

Pooh sunk deeper into his chair.

"Edward Bear, sit up straight this instant lest my rowboat oar find you backside!" scolded the bear called Winona-the-Pooh.

Pooh sat up straight immediately.

"Pooh, do you know these bears?" Owl stood up.

After some hesitation, Pooh grumbled," They are my parents."

Pooh's father was admiring the Republic of the Hundred Acre Woods flag. "Ah, so you've started a new country. Excellent. This flag doesn't have the zing of the old one, though."

"What old one?" Gopher asked.

"You started a new country?" Pooh's mother was at the weapons locker, about to fire a Nucleotonic Destabilizer at the wall. Kanga jumped up and took the Nucleotonic Destabilizer away from her and maneuvered her away from the locker. "What are you, Poohie? The prime minister?"

"I'm the Secretary of Hunny," Pooh declare proudly, beginning to accept his parent's presence.

"Secretary of Hunny? You sound like a seat warmer to me--" Edmund Bear started.

"Seat moistener, to be exact," corrected the younger bear.

"Whatever. You should be the prime minster! Or the President! Or the King! Or the Emperor! You have Pooh blood within your veins--"

"Fluff."

Edmund Bear continued, ignoring the interruption. "You have the savage political skills of Pooh in your blood, son! You deserve power! Monarchy!"

Piglet wondered when security would get there.

Piglet slipped out of the conference room. He wasn't sure how much more of Pooh's parents he could take. Having them around was like having three Poohs and Piglet could only tolerate one.

He almost ran to Security and bashed into the doors when they failed to open quickly enough.

"Piglet on deck!" shouted an officer.

Everyone stood up.

"Sit down," Piglet said. "You're too much taller than me when you're standing."

Everybody sat.

Piglet paced the room. "Okay, who let those bears in?"

"It was I," came the response.

"Lieutenant I works in the kitchen." Piglet strolled up the officer who accused Mr. I.

"I mean-"

"Your doing it again. Mr. I is not mean."

"Apologies." The officer searched for a way to rephrase his statement so as not to accuse Mr. I of anything. "Me let in the bears. Me am to blame."

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Me am Lieutenant Commander Ahcrapp."

"Well, Mr. Ahcrapp, in the Hundred Acre Woods Militia, we don't talk like cave men." Piglet, satisfied that he now knew who the idiot was who let Pooh's parents in, decided to take a walk outside before returning to conference room.

After a short walk down the hall, Piglet slowly opened the door . . . only to find himself staring down a large, black, hollow tube.

"We have them surrounded, my lord."

"Very good. And the status of the inhabitants?"

"Apparently, they haven't even noticed us."

"That is satisfactory, Captain, make sure no one leaves the Hundred Acre Woods High Command building."

"Yes, Umperor."

It took only a short time for Piglet to realize that this was no ordinary hollow tube. It was the sort of hollow tube what one uses on tanks-

Piglet slammed the door.

"Sir!" Lieutenant Commander Ahcrapp almost slid down the overly waxed hallway towards Piglet. As he passed, he yelled, "The compound is surrounded by Umperial forces!"

Normally, Piglet wasn't one to become to annoyed when the Umperials have the Hundred Acre Woods High Command under siege, but there were other complications . . .

" . . . if you convert to the metric system, instead of being the Hundred Acre Woods, you'd be the 35.632798654309625375395846382547586537638462342544627833 Hectre Woods." Edmund Bear's ramblings washed over Piglet as he opened the door to the conference room.

Piglet walked to the front of the room. "I have an important-"

"Don't speak unless spoken too!" Winona-the-Pooh scolded. She sat down. "Now you may speak."

"I have an important announcement. Please find your seats." Piglet called.

"Why? Did someone take them?" Edmund and his wife burst out laughing.

When Pooh parents finally calmed down, Piglet continued, "Umperial forces have surrounded the Command Building. So, we're stuck in here until a way can be found get passed them. Suggestions?"

"How about a public stoning?" Winona offered. "It always worked for little Poohie."

Pooh sank into his seat.

"Sit up straight when your mother is talking!" Edmund Bear scolded. "Show some respect!"

"It's alright, Edmund, maybe our little genius has a suggestion. It's only fair that we hear it out."

"Okay then, what is your suggestion, Pooh? Do be quick, you don't want to embarrass yourself."

Pooh stood up, not really having a suggestion. "Well, maybe it we convert a linear induction impeller matrix of a class C Ion Drive to a phase variant of the gyroscopic superstator within the flux parameters set by the external magnetomic stabilizer, we could convert it into a repulsor beam.

Owl understood. "But, we would have to switch the carbon cell refractor level to a gamma xenon ratio-"

"Speak the king's English!" Edmund Bear bellowed.

"Prime minister's English," Kanga corrected. "We have a prime minister."

"Really?" Edmund stepped toward Piglet, his face betraying mock interest. "And who is the prime minister?"

"Tony Blair!" Pooh's mother cried. "Saddam Hussein! Locutus of Borg! Joseph Stalin! Mister Hippopotamus!" At this point, Winona the Poohs brain almost over loaded. So, she sat down and decided to write the list of People She Thought Might Be The Prime Minister.

"Who is it, shortstuff?" Edmund Bear pressed.

Actually, the citizens of the Republic of the Hundred Acre Woods hadn't yet elected a prime minister. "We don't have a prime minister yet," Piglet confessed.

Edmund Bear didn't seemed disturbed by this. He stepped closer. In a low voice he said, "Ah, so y'r communists, eh? You'd defeat those capitalist pigs someday."

Piglet stepped back. "We're communist-capitalists."

Edmund turned to his wife, grinning. "See, I told you we aren't the only senile ones here." He returned to his seat.

Several terrible hours later, Piglet, Gopher and Pooh were huddled by the back wall, watching Pooh's parents harass Kanga and Owl with their story about their exploits in the deserts of Galapagos Islands.

"We have got to get out of here." Gopher was almost wining.

"If I had an Ion Drive-" Pooh began.

"-We'd be long gone. Anyway, were still under siege," Piglet rudely interrupted.

Pooh nearly jumped out of his skin. "I have an idea!"

Piglet and Gopher were shocked. They looked at each other. Gopher shrugged. "Guess we're all feeling the pressure."

"What's your idea, Pooh-Bear?"

"Let's turn 'em over to the Umps! We'll dress them up as us and send them out!"

"You'd do that to your parents?" Piglet stepped back, aghast.

"Oh, they've been in tougher situations than that. Back in Vietnam, they were hippies or something."

The great doors to the Hundred Acre Woods High Command building swung open and Pooh and Piglet stepped out. Piglet was abnormally tall and obese, but he was wearing a striped bathing suit. Pooh was also abnormally tall and his red shirt looked tighter than usual.

Christopher Robin ripped off his new glasses. Without them, his vision was badly blurred, but with them, he decided, they distorted objects such as Pooh and Piglet. "Damn, I want a new prescription," he muttered.

"I'll get right on it. Are you nearsighted or farsighted, sir?"

"Both."

The Umperial yes-man hurried off to get a new subscription for his superior, leaving the Umperor to watch the Piglet and Pooh stumble over to the edge of the fence.

The gate opened for them.

"Get me over there . . . now!" Christopher Robin barked into his communicator; a short time later he was beamed to Piglet and Pooh's location.

"Halloo . . . I am . . . Edmu-Winnie-the-Pooh. I am here to surrender myself to the superior Umperial forces besieging the Hundred Acre Woods High Command building."

"Yes . . . and I am Piglet, a very small animal who also has been harassing your superior forces, also. I surrender myself and my friend in exchange for the removal of the Umperial Forces from the land known as the Hundred Acre Woods."

"We offer you this Hunny Brand Honey in thanks for your evilness. Hand Hunny pot to Umperor and smile happily."

Christopher Robin couldn't see real well, but, just based on the greeting he had received, he new something was up. "Excuse me? Who are you, really?"

Edmund Bear dropped the Hunny pot. "I knew this wasn't going to work. Those youngins, always tryin' to get atop of things . . ."

Piglet pulled off his fake nose. "So, what's your name?" she addressed Christopher Robin.

"I am Christopher Robin, Umperor of the Umpire."

"Umperor of the Umpire?" Edmund walked over to Christopher Robin. "Christopher Robin? You can't have two first names."

"It ain't proper," Winona added. "For now on, you are Aluicious Higginsworth."

"Ah, a vast improvement, my dear, What do you think of it Aluicious- can I call you Al?"

"I am-"

Winona interrupted. "Your Aluicious Higginsworth. Yes, we already know that. What do you do for a living, Al?"

"I am the Umperor of the Umpire." Christopher Robin felt he was losing control of the situation.

"'Umperor of the Umpire?' What a crock of alligator tentacles!" Winona-the-Pooh exclaimed. "For now on, you are Aluicious Higginsworth, a kindly chimney sweep."

"I am not--"

"--a crook!" Edmund Bear finished. He turned to Winona, "Ah, remember ol' Richie Nixon? Those were the days . . ."

Winona smiled. "You know, Al, we were the ones who told Nixon to sweat."

A small part of the Umpire survived . . .

A large black bird flew toward the building formerly known as the Umperial Castle. It decelerated in flight to snack on a passing insect-

"Heh-heh, ya got 'em!" laughed a former Umperial Guard as he watched the bird spiral to the ground. He turned around and stamped the wall next to him with another picture of a bird. "That's twenty!"

The guard next to him blew on the smoking barrel of his sidearm. "Was a good shot, wa'n't it?" He put the sidearm away. "Don't stomp on this one. There ain't too many mo' of those things."

The guard by the wall moaned.

"Don't be 'aww'in' me, son." He indicated the bird. "That's dinner."

The two guards picked up the bird and went into the castle.

In a completely different part of the complex, the remaining members of the Great and Omnipotent Umperial Council gazed in agony at the new report they had just received.

"The Umpire's a Bingo club!" said General Higginsworth (no relation to Christopher Robin). He lowered his voice and added, "Literally."

The Pillsbury Doughboy spoke up from the other end of the Great and Omnipotent Table. "Actually, I rather like Bingo."

"You would," commented the man known only as Number Eight. All his preceding (and higher ranking) numbered fellows were either in hiding, in exile, or passed out in some bar. His bald head was so shiny that he had to wear a warning sign telling anyone not to look directly at his head for long periods of time. He bore a thin, Disney executive-like mustache that curlec slightly more on his right

The Pillsbury Doughboy, known just as Doughboy people who grew tired of reciting his brand name in order to address him, glared at Number Eight, who glared back. Doughboy quickly recognized that he really was in no position to challenge Number Eight's bald head and turned away. ". . . and Bingo was his name-oh," He whispered for his benefit and the benefit of those within four inches of his face.

General Higginsworth waited for them to calm down. "Rather than this senseless bickering, let us consider a way to fix this situation. Now, I want suggestions . . . Now!"

"How about we rejoin the 'Umpire' and attempt to reform it," Doughboy blurted.

Number Eight jumped out of his seat. "What Umpire?" he shouted. "We are the Umpire! They"-he waved his hand in the general direction of the meeting place of the Umpire Bingo Club -"Are nothing but idiots who have no right to call themselves Umpire!"

"They own the rights to the name 'Umpire' and all of its tenses: 'Umperial,' 'Umperor'-" Doughboy started.

"I don't care if they have papers in the capital saying they are the Umpire-"

"They do."

Doughboy and Number Eight stared at each other until Doughboy turned away to put on a pair of sunglasses.

General Higginsworth turned and pulled a folder from a file cabinet. Slapping it on the table he said, "We have a plan. It is called Operation PHAT." He opened the folder and pulled out a list. The lights dimmed. "Since the dawn of time, mankind has aspired to create new methods of communication. To alleviate their craving, man invented slang: a random grouping of letters or the use of a word whose definition is completely different than its slang definition." Higginsworth passed the list to Number Eight, who read it and passed it to the table ten feet from Doughboy. "Those words are slang words, dating back to the year 1,200,000 BC with the word 'ooga.' You will find that it covers most slang word up to the present day. 'Groovy,' 'hot'- which ironically means almost the same thing as 'cool.'"

"This is a very nice lecture, General," said Number Eight, "but how does this involve Umperial affairs?"

Doughboy reached across the table with a long stick he conveniently happened to have with him. He poked the list then pulled it in. "I think it is cuckoo, you hip daddeo," said the Doughboy, quoting from the list.

"We, Number Eight, are going to create our own slang-language and make in impossible for the currant generation to communicate with any previous generations." Higginsworth laughed evilly, joined by Number Eight a few seconds later and by the Doughboy who had no idea why everyone was laughing.

Edward Bear walked around the tiny craft. He rubbed his temples in deep concentration. "Where's the Ion Drive?" he asked in quite a frustrated tone.

"There is no Ion Drive, Pooh-Bear," Owl explained for the fortieth time.

Pooh plopped himself down on the on of the crafts support skids and opened a fresh jar of Hunny Brand Honey. "So, how does it move?" he said in a sticky voice while slopping some honey onto the floor.

Piglet, who had been looking at Owl's computations on a blackboard at the far side of the room turned around to listen to Owl's answer.

"It uses a flux-compacitatoraration gyroscopic hyperdrive unit."

Piglet stepped closer to the craft. "What does it do?"

Owl hesitated. "You're familiar with the theory that if an object reaches speeds near the speed of light, time within the object slows down and it travels into the future." Owl paused and looked at Piglet's and Pooh's blank expressions. "This vessel can do that. But, it can also go back in time, too."

"How?" Pooh blurted, spitting Honey onto the floor. The bear bent over and lapped up the escaping honey with his tongue.

"Logically, if it goes forward in time by going forward, it will go backward in time by reversing."

"Ohhhhhh," Piglet and Pooh said together in awe.

"Interesting, huh?"

"It still doesn't have an Ion Drive."

"Let it go, Pooh. Gee-whiz-" Piglet started and interrupted himself when he realized what his last phrase would cause.

"I already went." Pooh said. "Don't worry."

Piglet turned to Owl. "What are we going to do with a time machine? Go into the future and bring back technology to claim we invented it?"

"Precisely."

"Wow! That Lubricant is Vertically Spam!" The Pillsbury Doughboy stood at the front of the Great and Omnipotent Council Chamber reciting his proposal for the new slang language. "That means 'I believe that object is very nice and desirable to possess.'"

Barney, who had arrived shortly before the slang proposals started, rubbed his chin. "That's super-d-duper!"

"'Super-d-duper?'" Number Eight said in disgust. "That is so stupid it might as well be part of the slang language." He meant it sarcastically, but General Higginsworth nodded and wrote it down.

Doughboy sat down in his seat as General Higginsworth stood up. "OK, here's what we have so far: Lubricant, Vertically Spam, and Super-d-duper. Number Eight"-Higginsworth motioned towards the end of the table-"your proposal."

Number Eight pulled out a piece of paper. "Ahem." He paused. "'The context of your decisive awareness of the unappealing situation is satisfactory as of this time.' That means 'based on your actions so far, you have made good decisions in this situation that I don't like.'"

General Higginsworth spoke up before anyone else could. "It's . . . different. I'll give you that."

Number Eight crumbled his paper and dropped it on the floor. "I'd like to see you do better, you incoherent cow!"

"'Incoherent cow,'" Higginsworth repeated. "I like it." He wrote it down.

Owl pointed to a dial on the dashboard. Next to the dial was two digital displays; one display marked the currant time: 10:08 AM June 12, 1998 AD The other displayed the target time, currently set to: 10:08 AM April 4, 2063. Owl scowled. "Since the narration already said what I was going to say, I'm not going to bother explaining the dial. The rest of the controls are pretty standard. Good luck." Owls closed the hatch.

Pooh looked up. "What narration?" He looked to Piglet who was watching Owl exit the room through the blue tinted windshield.

"I don't know what he was talking about either. But I've heard stories about people hearing things-"

Pooh rudely interrupted. "Like the Tell-Tale Heart?"

"Kind of."

"Too bad the cute little bears from the Land of Happy had to go home, though."

Piglet took Pooh's word for it. "Power up the thrusters."

Pooh did so and the thrusters came on with a low whine. Once the board indicated nominal power, Piglet throttled up the Impulse drive and watched as they speed out of the bay. Once they got clear, Piglet pulled up and they activated the hyper-

"Did you hear something?" Pooh asked.

"No."

"It almost sounded like:

"Pooh did so and the thrusters came on with a low whine. Once the board indicated nominal power, Piglet throttled up the Impulse drive and watched as they speed out of the bay. Once they got clear, Piglet pulled up and they activated the hyper-"

"I didn't hear it, Pooh. Activate the hyper drive."

"Fine," Pooh said, bored. He leaned forward and activated a switch marked: HYPERDRIVE.

Suddenly, Pooh and Piglet were pinned to their seats. Pooh's Hunny pot smashed against the back wall; the shards were pinned to the wall by the G-forces.

"Going . . . to . . . fast," Pooh said as his lips and eyelids peeled back.

As suddenly as the craft had began to accelerate, it stopped as it reached it's target time. Piglet, who had had the sense to buckle his seat belt was only slightly affected by the deceleration. However, Pooh had been concentrating on opening a sealed Hunny Pot when Owl had showed them how to buckle their seat belts.

Pooh was lying on top of the dashboard in a very awkward position. "That was cool! Let's do it again!"

It was several hours before Piglet and Pooh's craft returned to their starting point at non-relativistic speeds. Now, they hovered at about 10,000 feet above Six Pine Trees, the capitol of the Republic of the Hundred Acre Woods.

Apparently, 10,000 feet was not very high because their view was obstructed by several skyscrapers, that, from Pooh or Piglet's point of view, hadn't been there this morning.

"We had better land," Piglet said even as he lowered the craft closer to the sidewalk below.

The citizens of Six Pine Trees seemed mildly interested, and they gathered around the craft's impending landing place. They looked very much like anyone from the year 1998, except for the fact that they wore neon colored plastic shoulder pads.

"I didn't think future people would actually wear those things . . ." Piglet muttered as he brought the craft in for a nice soft landing.

"I think they're kind of stylish, actually." Pooh pulled on the shoulder of his red shirt to see how the heavily shoulder padded shirts would look on him.

Piglet looked out the window. "Maybe they are." He unbuckled himself and proceeded to open the hatch. As he weighted for the pressure to equalize, he pulled Pooh of the dashboard.

Then the hatch popped open. The craft was flooded with the awed murmurs of the onlookers outside. Pooh and Piglet climbed out and jumped down to the sidewalk.

Pooh held up his hand and tried to make a Vulcan Salute. In a loud, tourist-like voice (Pooh didn't yet know if these people spoke English) he said: "Greetings. I am Edward Bear. Take me to your leader . . . please."

An old man stepped forward. He was followed by several large sunglasses-wearing men in black suits. The old man raised his hand as far as it would go and tried to return the Vulcan Salute. "Greetings, Pooh, I am Former Prime-Minister Sheit. Hello Piglet. In your time, I believe I was an Admiral. We have prepared for your visit since you left 65 years ago."

Piglet was confused. "You mean we didn't come back?"

Sheit shook his head. "No, of course you came back-about ten seconds after you left." Sheit turned around and motioned for Pooh and Piglet to follow. "But, something terrible has happened. Come."

Piglet and Pooh sat in Former Prime-Minister Sheit's living room sipping Hyper-Tea. Well, not exactly. Pooh had put so much Hyper-sugar in that he had to eat his Hyper-Tea with a spoon.

Pooh stopped chewing his tea long enough to address Sheit. "Since when have you been the prime-minister?" he blurted, spitting Hyper-Sugar onto the table with every consonant.

Sheit leaned back. "I was elected thirty-three years ago. I served eight terms and was voted out by a new generation of voters just last year."

"Why?" Piglet asked, pouring a bit of Hyper-Cream into his Hyper-Mug.

"I couldn't understand them and they couldn't understand me."

"Why?" Pooh spat more Hyper-Sugar.

"They talk in this stupid slang language. Do you know what they call what we are doing know? 'Coruscating some Spam juice!'"

"'coruscating?'" Pooh asked.

"It means, 'to gratefully or contentedly ingest.'"

"'spam juice?'" Piglet prompted.

"I think it refers to any drink with sugar." Sheit shifted his position. "Anyway, you might have guessed that language probably won't change so much over only a scant 65 years." He leaned forward with great effort and said in a low voice, "I think these particular phrases were planted into literature and the media by someone intending to confuse communication. They probably used it to get themselves into positions of power by confusing the communication between voters and the candidates for political offices."

Piglet frowned and placed his tea on the table. "What makes you think that? Who's the prime-minister now?"

Sheit thought for a second. "I think his name is the Pillsbury Fatass."

"Doughboy," Pooh corrected while reaching for the Hyper Sugar dispenser.

"Whatever. I think he's working for the Umpire."

"They're gone," Pooh dismissed the concept of the Umpire surviving without thought.

65 years earlier . . .

"This is a clip from the upcoming film, 'Deep Armageddon & Bobzilla, too.'"

The lights dimmed and the television at the front of the Great and Omnipotent Conference Room began to display the clip:

"Gee-whiz, Mr. President, the vertically spam-" On the bottom of the screen, the translation flashed: "Holy fumming shit, Mr. President, the vector of the oncoming object is good for the objects intentions."

The man on the screen continued, "-of the comet has been grammatically confirmed as of Moon-Rev July Roman Numeral VIII. Grievance for the pitch, peanut butter is no phat. In companionship, a big gaseousness had been maced by some nukes." Translation: "-of the comet has been adequately confirmed as of a couple days ago. Sorry for the delay, the traffic is terrible. Also, a large monstrosity had been created my the radiation of some nuclear bombs."

General Higginsworth reached out and turned off the television. "So, as you can see, the injection of our new language is proceeding well." He paused. "Now we must learn the language ourselves so we may take over the Umpire and the Universe." He poked himself in the eye in the traditional Umperial salute and then blinked rapidly.

"I'm just wondering, where are we now-I mean the future us, from our point of view? Are we dead?" Piglet asked abruptly.

"Oh, your not dead. In fact you"-he pointed toward Pooh -"Work as an official taste-tester for Hunny Brand Honey. And you"-he pointed at Piglet-"are still a bounty hunter."

Just then, the door slid open and Pooh and Piglet walked in. At first, Piglet and Piglet just gaped at each other on surprise. The future Pooh, still as dumb as ever was oblivious to the presence of his double and plopped down next to the past Pooh.

Pooh '98 handed Pooh '63 (2063 not 1963) the Hyper-Sugar dispenser and a almost empty Hyper-Tea cup to put the sugar in. "Hyper-Cream?" offered Pooh '98.

"Please." Pooh '63 accepted the Hyper-Cream dispenser and began to pour some into the Hyper-Tea cup.

Piglet '63 stopped gaping first, for he had done it all before. "Um, Hi," Piglet '63 said.

"Care to sit down?" Sheit gestured to the empty seat next to Piglet '98.

Piglet '63 sat down hesitantly. "So, how are you?"

"Fine," Piglet '98 said.

"That's nice. It is always nice to know that I was fine 65 years ago."

"And, how are you?"

"Fine."

"Good. Then I will be fine in 65 years."

"Good."

"Great."

"Phat," Pooh '98 blurted.

His double, Piglet '63 and Sheit suddenly gasped in shock. They stood up. Piglet '63 was the first to say anything, "Pooh, you can't say that!"

"Why?"

Piglet '63' saw that Pooh '98 didn't understand. "The other day, when I was looking for Barney-there's a huge bounty on him-I came across some old recordings of Umperial Council meetings. They engineered this whole slang thing 65 years ago."

Piglet '98 scowled at Sheit. "You said you suspected."

Sheit stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Sometimes, it is best that our past selves know as little as possible about the future.,"

Piglet '98 stood up. "This is not one of those times! We are going to rid the world of Umperial rule!"

"How? All the benevolent political candidates can't understand their voters," Sheit said in a very bitter tone.

"Wait. Pooh and I have done this before," said Piglet '63.

"What?" Piglet '98 asked in disbelief. "How?"

"We are just you in the future. We came back from the future 65 years ago. The first thing Owl will say to you when you return was and will be: 'you've been gone only ten seconds.'"

"Really?" Piglet '98 said. "Then how did you resolve this problem?"

"Actually, as I remember, I think I never had the chance to tell me because I was shot before I finished this sentan -" Suddenly a peculiar phasor-like beam blasted through the window and struck the future Piglet before he could finish the sentence.

"Holy Cheese!" Piglet '98-now the only Piglet exclaimed. "What the hell was that?"

"He saw that happen to himself when we was you, Piglet. Too bad he didn't remember in time to duck," Sheit said evenly.

The Poohs, who had been exchanging phone numbers (to their ignorant astonishment, they were the same. Now I wonder why that is, the Poohs tried to think) suddenly looked up as they suddenly realized that something had happened.

Piglet moved toward Pooh '63. "Pooh, how did you resolve this situation?" Then he added, "Please don't say you had gotten shot before you had a chance to tell me."

"Actually, I -" Pooh '69 dropped to the floor as the phasor like beam shot towards him. "-ducked."

"Good. How did you resolve this situation?"

"I can't remember." Pooh sat up and began to rub his temples. "Think . . . think . . . think." Suddenly Pooh was shot by the same type of phasor-like beam that had claimed the life of Piglet '63

"I know how you did it," Sheit offered.

"What?" Piglet was infuriated. "Why didn't you tell us before we died?"

"Sometimes its best for people from the past to know very much about the future."

"This is not one of those times!"

"Fine. What you did was you went back a couple months ago. You kicked Prime-Minister Doughboy out and reinstated me as the prime minister."

Pooh, who had read up on temporal mechanics and now was as learned in that area as he was in Ion Drives, spoke up. "If we did that, then whey are we here instead of being in the capitol building., If we did that, then why aren't you living in the Prime-Ministerial Palace?"

Sheit shrugged. "I guess you didn't do a very good job -Well, actually, you did reinstate me, but I was kicked out by an angry mob who couldn't understand me."

Piglet suddenly looked up. "I got it! We can go farther into the future and bring back a Universal Translator!"

"But who would want to talk to the Universe?" Pooh asked brainlessly.

"No, Pooh, Universal Translator is a device that has the capacity to learn any language in a short time."

"Like an Ion Drive?"

"No, not like an Ion Drive."

Pooh and Piglet sat on the steps of former prime-minister Sheit's house. Sheit himself had went to bed for his mid-late pre-lunch-early-morning nap.

A small child stood in front of them gaping as if they were ghosts from the past, which, ironically, they were. He held out a half eaten Hersheyskiyov bar. "Consume Negotiations for Spam?" He held out his chain wallet and held it open with his other hand.

Pooh reached for the chocolate bar, but the child pulled it away. "No spam, event some greens!"

Piglet tapped Pooh. "I think he wants you to buy his Hersheyskiyov bar."

"Oh, then how much?"

"Spam no for affirmative selling!" The child ran away.

"Now what the hell was that all about?" Pooh asked no one in particular.

"I think we have just had our first taste of communication with the common folk of 2063."

"2063?" Pooh said, watching a hovercar go by. "I thought this was 1775."

"Why would you think that?"

"Ack! The red coats are coming!" Pooh hit the deck.

"Pooh, that's a fire hydrant."

"Spam Hydrant." corrected a passerby.

Pooh got up. "Oh, how embarrassing."

Piglet started walking and Pooh followed, "C'mon, Pooh-bear, where going farther into the future!"

"For a Hersheyskiyov bar?"

"No."

"For Hunny?"

"No."

"For spam!"

"No!"

Piglet landed their time machine just outside the city of Six Pine Trees in the year 2371. After turning of the electrical systems, he popped the hatch. "Let us go, Pooh."

Pooh followed Piglet out of the craft. Pooh jumped down on one side, while Piglet landed on the other.

"Maybe the city doesn't exist this far in the future," Pooh said thoughtfully, surveying the empty landscape before him.

"Pooh," Piglet said from the other side of the craft, "the city is on this side."

"Oh." Pooh walked to join Piglet, who had already started walking towards the city. Pooh walked next to him, trying to make conversation. "So, we're here for a Universal Translator?"

"Yes," Piglet pulled out his phasor. "I don't think they are going to give it up easily, however."

Pooh looked at the city, at the grimy buildings scorched by weapons fire, the streets, whose nice asphalt had been dyed red with either red dye, or blood. "Never judge a book by its cover." Pooh recited.

Piglet stopped walking. "Pooh, if you judged the Silly Ol' Bear Septology by anything but the cover, it would be burned for treason."

"Yeah, I guess we have been kind of treasonous lately."

Pooh and Piglet rented an apartment in downtown Six Pine Trees since they did not know how long it would take them to acquire a universal translator. They had gotten a very good deal for the apartment- $759,000,000,000. The landlord had assured the that after 400 years of inflation, a couple hundred billion dollars wasn't that bad a deal.

They had gotten lucky, too. Pooh, who had around seventy dollars in the bank found that he had gotten almost a trillion dollars of interest.

Piglet's bank, however was bought up by Microsoft and his money got caught up in the buearocracy.

"Piglet, I'm hungry," Pooh said, looking out their four hundred and sixth floor window at the McMicrosoft's across the street. "I want to eat at McMicrosoft's!"

"First we have to find out what language they speak here. That English-speaking landlord may have just been an anomaly. For all we know, people speak Pig-Latin." Piglet picked up the phone and dialed a random number. "Hello, I am from the Department of Food Storage, I am calling to inquire into the operation of your refrigerator."

Piglet listen for about ten seconds and covered the microphone. "Pooh, do you know what 'Amnday onsay, ouyay eednay otay peeksay Englishay' means?"

"I think it means: 'Damn son, you need to speak English.'"

"What language is that?"

"Pig-Latin."

Piglet uncovered the mike. "I'll take that under advisement." He hung up. "Pooh, where did you learn Pig-Latin?"

"I wanted to learn a second language. Can we go to McMicrosoft's now?"

Pig-Latin, turning out not to be an actual language, but a distortion of words, made it so Piglet was able to program Pooh's toy digital recorder to alter the sound so he could understand the language. To his relief, the slang from the mid 21st century seemed to have been eradicated with age.

As he walked into the McMicrosoft's, he held Pooh's purple plastic blobish recorder up to his ear. He and Pooh stepped up to the counter, Pooh translated the menu and told Piglet what he wanted.

In normal English he said, "I'll take one DeadMac, a 2 piece Chicken McTrusts, two Netscaped Fries, two Cokes and two Bankrupt-apple pies." Even as he spoke, Pooh toy distorted his words into Pig-Latin.

"Okay, that comes to 78 million dollars and 48.5 cents," said the cashier.

Before Piglet could take out a 78 million dollar bill and a 48.5 cent coin, Pooh handed the cashier a blank check. "Add a little extra for your tip," the bear whispered.

Piglet took the tray and sat down at a nearby booth. As Pooh sat down next to him, Piglet began munching on his DeadMac. Pooh picked up Chicken McTrust.

Suddenly, they both spit their food out. Piglet spat into a napkin, Pooh spat on the person in the booth across from them.

"This tastes like silicon!" Piglet cried, soliciting the stares of everyone in the building. He pulled Pooh out of his seat. "I guess this is what you get for 78 million dollars!" He and Pooh stormed out of the McMicrosoft's.

"I guess we could have went to Microsoft King or Dunkin' Microsofts."

"For dinner? Come on, Pooh, lets find a Universal Translator."

Several minutes later, Piglet slammed the Pacific Microsoft Yellow Pages closed. "The only Universal Translator is located deep within the bowels of Microsoft's Museum of Stuff You Can't Afford."

"Damn, is Microsoft going to become a bad guy like Disney?"

"It's unlikely. The museum is owned by Microsoft but operated by the Umpire. Now, Pooh, get us a cab."

Pooh jumped into the middle of the street. Flailing his arms wildly, he shrieked, "If you are a taxi, stop! We are rich bastards and give huge tips!"

Suddenly, all of the taxis on the west coast converged on Pooh, only a few hitting him.

"Wow, I haven't done that since Pooh IV!"

"Two for two." Piglet said, getting into a cab.

"That'll be 120 million dollars," the driver announced as he stopped outside the Museum of Stuff You Can't Afford.

Pooh handed the driver a blank check. "Add another couple mil for your tip," he whispered. He then turned to follow Piglet up the excessive amount of stairs to the Museum.

"Pooh, I don't think you should keep giving people blank checks," said Piglet as he saw the bear move beside him.

"Why?"

"They might fill in more money than you want them to."

"Naw, that doesn't happen."

Piglet stopped walking as they reached the admission booth. He pulled out his driver's license and Pooh took out his Ultra Big Mart Preferred Customer's Card.

The Umperial in the booth took the cards and ran them through his computer. He scowled. "You don't look 400 years old to me."

"Oh, thank you. It's those new surgical techniques. They work wonders on the skin," Piglet responded in a conspiratory tone.

"Apparently, I can't let you in anyway." The guard smiled evilly.

Piglet suddenly wondered if the Umpire still recognized he and Pooh as a threat. If they recognized them at all.

"Looks like you thought our fine McMicrosoft's food tasted like silicon."

"It was silicon!" Pooh protested.

The Umperial chucked Pooh and Piglet's ID cards down the steps and whipped out weaponish looking device. "Be gone from my sight."

Piglet reached for his phasor, but it was not there. Suddenly he realized that he had left in the cab. He turned to Pooh. "Um . . .run."

They ran down the steps. Well, actually, Pooh rolled down the steps.

Pooh and Piglet kept running until they found a weapons store that wasn't owned by Microsoft or affiliated with the Umpire.

They walked in. Pooh went right up to the clerk to ask where they kept the Heavy Discombobulator Launcher. Piglet elected to look around first.

"'Heavy Discombobulators?'" The clerk obviously did not have an understanding of late 20th century weapons technology. Pooh showed the clerk how one carries a Heavy Discombobulator Launcher. "It shoots big fuzzy anti-matter warheads."

"Listen, if you like the power of an anti-matter explosion, look at this." The clerk pulled out an unfamiliar weapon. He held it out for Pooh. "It's called a Ray-Gun."

It looked, to Pooh, just like a normal 20th century semi automatic . . . except, there were green neon rings around the barrel. Pooh took it. "What does it shoot?"

"Rays."

"Oooooooooh! How much is it?"

The clerk thought for a moment, probably considering whether Pooh was going to shoot him if he said too high a price. "It costs 45 billion dollars."

"Oooooooooh! Good deal!" Pooh handed the clerk a blank check.

Piglet walked up to the clerk holding an Inflatable Tank and a Ray-Gun. "Just put it on my tab," he said and swerved out the door, dragging Pooh along behind him.

Pooh walked up to the admission booth outside the Museum of Stuff You Can't Afford. He had slapped a fake mustache over his mouth and wore a hat that had a hologram over it proclaiming "Go SuperCows!" Pooh had absolutely no idea what a SuperCow was, but Piglet had suggested that it might be the new name for the Hundred Acre Woods Republican Party.

"Yes?" the Umperial guard inquired trying to sound a bored as possible. He hadn't yet pulled out his sidearm.

Pooh cleared his througt. In a very deep voice, he said, "I am looking for an artifact . . . a piece of technology."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Really? Did you try Microsoft Beat The Whiz?"

"I loaned it to the Museum a few years ago. I'd like it back." Pooh smiled.

"Fine, what's your name?"

Pooh's fake mustache fell of. "Aw, the hum with this." He pulled out his Ray-Gun and fired at the spot in between the guard's eyes.

The Umperials eyes crossed, trying to look at the red dot Pooh's gun had projected. "What are you doing?"

Pooh held the gun and kept the dot on the guard's face. "I am vaporizing you."

"Oh. The dot's just the targeting scanner. You have to pull back the firing pin to fire."

"Where's the firing pin?"

"It's-"

"Aw, the hum with this." Pooh chucked the gun at the guard. It hit him in the forehead.

The guard pitched backward from the impact, his head striking the transparent-concrete behind him. As he fell over the panel, he kicked his leg up to hit the alert button.

Suddenly, a loud alarm went off.

The loud noise disoriented Pooh. The disorientation was further amplified by the bears inner ear fluid, which had been sloshing around ever since Pooh had jammed a vibrating pager into his ear. Pooh decided, that, when this was over, he would find out who was constantly paging him.

The bear sat down on a step. He closed his eyes tightly until her heard multiple clicking noises. He opened his left eye ever so slightly. He was staring down several black tubes what one used on Umperial Sidearms.

Pooh jammed his eyes closed again, hoping he was just hallucinating again. There was a loud explosion-like noise, followed by an intrusive two-tone howl. Pooh opened his eyes.

"Pooh, get up." Piglet stood on one of the treads of his inflatable tank.

Pooh got up. After climbing the tread, he plopped down through the upper hatch. Piglet followed after the bear, to push him through the hatch, should the he get stuck.

And stuck Pooh did. Having jumped in head first, most of his tummy and his stubby legs stuck out of the top of the tank. Piglet tried to push Pooh down, but Pooh was in far too tightly.

"Oh, bother," said Pooh.

"Pooh-bear, can you reach the steering wheel?"

Pooh's voice was muffled by the inflatable armor. "Um, yeah." Pooh's butt rotated about twenty degrees. "Got it."

"Press on the gas pedal."

After about two seconds, Pooh responded, "I can't reach it. Maybe if the tank wasn't upside down . . ."

Piglet walked around to the back of the tank and deflated it slightly. There was a loud squeak as Pooh slid through the hatch, followed by a thump as Pooh hit the deck. Piglet himself then climbed into the tank.

"Okay, Pooh-bear, strap yourself in," Piglet said, dropping his weight over the inflatable driver's seat.

Pooh went to the back and dropped his weight over the passenger seat. However, the bear did not stay in the seat as planned. As any hydro-physics fluff dynamics student can tell you, when two soft and often bouncy materials come into high velocity contact, the resulting compression and expansion of the fluff and bouncy molecules will cause the energy to be redistributed in the opposite direction as it was when it first came into contact. Anyway, Pooh bounced of his chair, smashing into first the upper bulkhead and then a hazardously placed propane tank.

"Yuck!" Pooh exclaimed. "Smells like one of Piglet's!"

"Pooh, haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'whomever smellt it dealt it?'"

"What is 'smellt?'"

"Sit down, Pooh."

Piglet stepped hard on the gas pedal. The tank surged forward so fast, that the acceleration nearly pulled the air freshener Pooh had just turned on out of its outlet. The plug hung half out, about a foot from the ruptured propane tank.

The inflatable tank smashed through the wall of the Museum of Stuff You Can't Afford, through a few exhibits, through a snack bar and came to a stop about seven inches from a cleaning droid as Piglet slammed on the brake.

Just beyond the cleaning droid, the Universal Translator lay on a triquadrahydroquasineutrontitanium pedestal. It was being protected by an antiquated 20th century force-field and a thin layer transparent concrete.

Piglet exited the tank, through the top hatch. He stood on the tread, reaching back in for his Ray-Gun before hopping off to find a strategically nice position from which to mount their assault on the Translator's various security mechanism. He, after scanning the room, found a spot and made his way toward it-

"Stop." The cleaning droid stood in Piglet's path, its tetrathermonetic broom held in an obvious striking position. "Museum hours are from 9 o'clock to 7 o'clock. Please come back tomorrow."

Piglet, after finding his Ray-Gun to be of little use other than a thrown projectile, pointed to a spot on the wall behind the cleaning droid. "Look at that!"

The droid's head rotated 180 degrees to look at whatever Piglet was pointing. "Looking. . ."

Piglet turned to the tank. "Pooh, all clear."

Pooh struggled to get out of the upper hatch. It was quite difficult, because he had put on a couple pounds since he had last used the hatch five minutes ago. As he go his shoulders through, he thrashed his stubby legs wildly. He must have kicked the air freshener a tiny bit, because a solitary spark jumped from the outlet and blundered into Mr. Cloud of Propane.

Pooh shot out of the hatch and straight through the ceiling of gammasemireinfocednickelrhodidiumcarbonite. The tank had been blown apart.

Piglet, knowing that Pooh always land on their stomachs, was not worried. Instead, he worked on formulating a plan to get the Universal Translator.

Suddenly, he had an idea. Being weaponless, he required something for which to smash stuff with. That smasher was to be . . . the cleaning droid's broom. Piglet yanked it out of the droid's metallic hands. Yelling as loudly as possible for a very small animal to scare away any bad spirits and for dramatic effect, he ran at the layer of transparent concrete.

The broom cracked slightly under the impact, but not as much as the concrete, which crumbled on the floor. The force field presented a more formidable barrier against the broom, vaporizing it.

Piglet looked around for a large object to short out the force-field. Unfortunately, there was nothing large enough for the task. He turned away from the force-field.

Pooh, in an extremely unlikely stoke of luck, happened to come down directly onto the force-field. The field buckled under Pooh's mass.

Piglet ran over to the downed bear, found him to be as fine as he ever got, and made for the Translator. After picking it up carefully, he pulled Pooh of the floor and they ran out of the museum.

They were almost out of the atmosphere before Pooh asked, "Are we going back to 2063?"

Piglet thought for a moment, his feet resting luxuriously upon the time machine's dashboard. "No, I don't thinks so. I didn't like future-Sheit much. Let's go back to the twentieth century and claim we invented the translator. That would be just as Umperial scheme-foiling as the other option."

He took his feet of the dashboard. "Mr. Pooh, set course for when we left! Engage!"

"Um, Piglet, I don't know how to do that."

"Oh,"

"You've only been gone 10 seconds!" Owl barged into the hangar upon Piglet and Pooh's arrival back in the twentieth century. He added, "I hope you brought back some nice inventions to claim to invent!" upon seeing Piglet and Pooh jump of the access step to the floor.

"Indeed we did!" Piglet shoved the Universal Translator in Owl's face. "Patent this!"

Owl took the device. "Right away!" He scurried out of the room.

Pooh turned to Piglet, confused. "Wait, if we brought the translator back, then in 2063 the device must have been already readily available to anyone who wants it. So, Sheit should have retained his power and we should have went to a prosperous and Umperial-free future. None of this would have happened and we should find ourselves in a happy 2063, collecting inventions to bring back."

"You know, I think your right."

Suddenly the world around Pooh began to fade and shimmer. At first he thought this was the first effects of a breakdown in the space-time continuum. . .

. . . Pooh opened his eyes, realizing he had been asleep. He wondered how long he had been out. Piglet was standing over him. "Damn, this whole story was a dream sequence!" Pooh muttered.

"What the hell are you talking about, Pooh-bear?" Piglet leaned against the time machine from Pooh's dream. "You just passed out from lack of Hunny."

"So we really did travel though time?"

"Of course we did. You don't really think Andrew is shallow enough to make a whole story one of you dreams, do you?"

"I guess not. My dreams usually involve arson inclined leprechauns and talking matches and lighters and cans of lighter fluid . . ."

The End

. . . or is it?

001

In the back seat of a '79 Buick Cowstall Convertible, Rudolf Heinrich, an ignorant, slack jawed teenager, stared in mild disgruntlement out at the highway. The highway was Interstate 68. Rudolf, among other things, wished the road's number was 69 because 69 was a much phatter number.

Seated on the opposite side of the car was his right-wing extremist sister, Ophellia. She had been led to believe that the highway's number was indeed 69 and was now writing a angry letter to her congressman demanding the number be changed to 68.

Between them sat their cat, Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss. Everyone thought the name was cute except Rudolf, who thought the name was gay and suggested the cat be renamed "Sixty-nine."

Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss himself didn't give a shit. Presently, he was reading a copy of the Silly Ol' Bear Septology by Andrew Edelman. Being a cat, he was still on the first page of Episode II after reading for almost an hour.

Later, some historians would attribute the destruction of the world to this particular cat's inability to read quickly. Other historians attributed the destruction of the world to Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss's ability to read at all. Still other historians attributed the destruction of the world to Boris Yeltsin, former president of Russia, who was at that particular moment six cars back seated on the roof of a tractor trailer with a sniper-rifle.

Yeltsin, who hadn't eaten for several days, was targeting what he hoped would be his dinner: Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss. He fired at the cat, who moved slightly to the right just in time to avoid being hit.

The bullet struck the already weak binding of the Septology Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss was reading and caused Episode II to fall out.

Easily excitable Rudolf heard the bullet go by his ear and exclaimed, "What the fum? We're fumming under fumming attack!" He flailed his arms wildly as he fought to free himself from the seatbelt we was so unjustly forced to wear. An uncontrolled appendage hit the Septology, setting in motion the events that would lead to the downfall of civilization.

Behind them, Boris struggled to read the manual that went with his rifle so he could reload it. He reached a rather annoying hindrance when he realized that he could no longer remember what sound the little "x" with a line through it made.

Later, one historian found it amusing to note, that if Yeltsin had been able to reload his rifle and fire again and miss and hit the Septology again, he might have averted the greatest disaster the world had ever known.

In the '79 Buick Cowstall Convertible, the Septology swung closed, bringing the excellent and entertaining writing of Episode I into direct physical contact with the poorly written Episode III.

Scientists later found that the ensuing explosion was caused by a peculiar phenomenon called the Gingrich-effect after some weirdo who happened to walk into the lab when the phenomenon was discovered. Simply put, the Gingrich-effect was this: when to bodies of literature come into direct physical contact, one being extremely well written and the other utterly unreadable, they cause a massive catastrophic discorporation of all matter within several miles into free floating subatomic particles. More simply put: when a good story touches a bad story, they go boom.

This is what happened to the Septology Cuddly-wuddly Pussy-Wussy Furry-Wurry Stinklepuss was reading. The only survivor was Boris Yeltsin, who was rescued by Mikhail Gorbechev, who had acquired superpowers when he drove just a bit too close to Chernobyl.

.Jar Honey Brand Hunny his of bottom the licking sat Bear Edward .Minutes ten (gasp) over in supply honey his replenished not had Robin Christopher .Something suspected have might he, being smarter a been had Pooh if

.Knocking even without house Pooh's into burst Robin Christopher ,then just

"!Cover take" .shouted he "!III War World s'It"

.Bed his under dove Pooh "!Attacking is NATO" .shouted he "!Detonation nucular ! Years 0005 next the for irradiated be will Woods Acre Hundred the" Jar honey his hugged and gasped he .Fur his in lodged becoming shards the, shattered it

".Bear-Pooh, joke a just" ,smiled Robin Christopher.

"Bi- a of son lying you, what"

".Story s'children a is this, Pooh, please"

.Scowled Pooh .Finger the Robin Christopher gave he then "?Cargo the got you" .Rifle Phaser Compression his raised he "?Hell to head freaking your blow to have I do or…"

".Out chill, Cube-ice, joke a just" .surrender in hands his raised Robin Christopher "Hunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn002nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnny Brand Honey jar. Christopher Robin hadn't replenished his honey supply in over (gasp) then minutes. If Pooh had been a smarter being, he might have suspected something.

Just then, Christopher Robin burst into Pooh's house without even knocking.

"Take cover!" he shouted. Then he stopped. He looked around the room as if he was a small child trying to see if anyone had noticed the dampness in his pants after an "accident" during recess. He looked embarrassed for a second. He started, for some reason that utterly escaped him, to remove his jeans to see if he had had an "accident." He had them down to his knees before he bulled them back up, turned around and marched out.

Pooh chucked his honey jar at the floor. It shattered. Pooh went to get a broom to sweep the shards up.

"What in the name of the burning bovine underworld was that?" Pooh asked himself.

001Gorbechev said, "Bad."

"What the hell was that?" Pooh said, poking the ceiling with his broomstick.

001Gorbechev said, "Gorbechev."

"Hey, aren't you the Premier of the Soviet Union?" It hadn't fallen yet, the Soviet Union. It was 1989. No one noticed. It was normal.

001Gorbechev said, "I was."

"Oh. Okay." Pooh said, still poking the ceiling. There was a sizable dent in the cheap plaster where he had been poking.

Utterly unannounced, the ceiling imploded upon itself, sounding very much like celery being cracked by a deflated basketball in a pure liquid nitrogen atmosphere.

Unfazed, Pooh continued to poke where the ceiling had been. The wooden cylinder or the broomstick met with no resistance. Pooh pushed it up into the void more and more until be was holding the broom by the brush.

003

Andrew Norton Edelman, an extremely corpulent child of the tender age of fourteen, the year being 2000 and the day being both 7 and Friday and the month being both 1 and January, thought he felt himself being poked in the leg as he walked from the cafeteria to the gym of his high school.

Andrew Edelman told his friend Phil this, who said it sounded very much like "one of Mike's sequels to 'Alien'." Mike was a person who wrote sequels to "Alien." He also wanted Andrew Edelman to draw him a picture of a genetics lab. Mike, that is, not Phil. Phil wanted Andrew Edelman to draw a spaceship that was rounded and smooth. Andrew Edelman very much wanted to have sex with a cute girl in an earlier class. Phil probably did too, but he also wanted Andrew Edelman to draw a picture of a space ship.

Andrew Edelman also wanted to write a sequel to Septology. When he got home he did this.

002

003"That sounds like on of Mike's sequels to 'Alien,'" said the ceiling.

Pooh pulled the broomstick down. The end smelled like the back of 003Andrew Edelman's leg and had a bit of 003lint on it from 003his sweatpants.

A small piece of neon yellow paper fluttered down from the void that was once Pooh's ceiling. Pooh picked it up.

On it, was written in messy, child-like print:

002

002

001

001

001

003

003

003

003

003

---------

022

Nothing was odd about this peice of yellow paper other than the fact that it had fallen out of the abysmal vaccum formed when the ceiling of his living room collapsed into itself.

Pooh tucked the paper neatly into his safe between a penny he found in the street the day Disney bombed the hell out of the western hemisphere and the tape of "Macho Man" he had acquired from the sonar officer of the USS Dallas.

It was remarkably easy to ignore the peculiar hole in the ceiling for the rest of the day. He went to sleep at his normal time, 3:00 PM and woke up a bit late the next day, 1:32 PM.

The headline of the local newspaper read: "CHRISTOPHER ROBIN FOUND DEAD AT HOME. SUICIDE RULED OUT BY POLICE."

Pooh, who had momentarily forgotten how to read, went to Piglet's house. He brought with him the mysterious piece of paper.

Piglet read Pooh the headline. "I heard about it on 'Action Killing Violence Fest News as Five' last night. Personally, I think he may have had it coming."

Then, for no reason that he could discern, Piglet went to his weapons locker, opened it, and scanned all his Phasers. "These haven't been fired since last week."

Last week the supermarket had run out of dead cows to eat, so Piglet and Pooh had gone out to shoot some. Sadly, wild cows are, even at the best of times, difficult to find.

"So?" Pooh said from Piglet's kitchen, where he was probing for Hunny.

"Second shelf down," Piglet directed Pooh. To Pooh's question, he responded, "I don't know."

"Did ya think you might have killed the Robinmeister?" Pooh said, struggling with the electrohydrogenic magnetic lock on the cupboard door. He smashed the lock with a nearby tackhammer.

"No, not really, I think." Piglet sat down in one of his overstuffed, elaborately embroidered Lay-Z-Pig chairs. No sooner had he sat down did he notice the neon yellow peice of paper that had fallen from Pooh's Abyss-formerly-known-as-Ceiling. "Twenty-two," Piglet read thoughtfully.

"Twenty-two," Pooh repeated thoughtfully, emerging from the kitchen with several Hunny jars.

"What in the burning bovine underworld does that mean?" Piglet said.

Pooh pointed at the numbers. "It's what you get when you add those."

001

"Who's Mike?" Boris Yeltsin asked as he flew over western Europe in the arms of the mutated Gorbechev.

"It's the English version of my name," said Mikhail "Mike" Gorbechev. "It's also the name of some 003kid who wants 003Andrew Edelman to draw him a picture of a genetics lab."

"Oh," said Boris. "Who's 003Andrew Edelman?"

"Some kid who wants to have sex with a cute girl who is in an earlier class."

"That really clears it up, Mikhail. No wonder the Soviet Union collapsed," Boris said irritably.

Gorbechev rolled his eyes. "Oh, and look who isn't president of Russia…"

Meanwhile, nearly an eighth of the state of Wyoming was a flaming crater centered on the former location of a '79 Buick Cowstall Convertible that had been driving on Interstate 68. Casualties: seven.

People who knew what caused the explosion: One; and his name was Boris Yeltsin.

People that would soon find out what caused the explosion: One; his name Saddam Hussein.

003

Andrew Edelman stopped typing for a couple seconds. He wanted to have Boris Yeltsin tell Saddam Hussein how to make nuclear bombs out of two puerile little stories about Winnie-the-Pooh, but he felt something should happen between Boris's snide comment and when Gorby grows tired and drops him.

Andrew Edelman typed his thoughts on the subject and pondered whether or not he should start singing a song from the play "Man of La Mancha."

Ultimately, he decided to just drop Boris. And, since he had already typed his thoughts on the subject, he didn't see the need to type any narration. However, Andrew Edelman did have to type some filler to prevent himself from ending a section at the end of a page, which was traditionally a no-no.

001

Boris Yeltsin found himself falling toward the bustling Iraqi city of Baghdad. He knew exactly why he was falling: Gorbechev had grown tired as the radiation exposure had finally caught up with him and Boris had made a snooty comment about Gorbechev's birthmark.

Although he knew this, he didn't remember it ever happening. From his point of view, he had been flying with a former communist leader one minute and the next he was falling and he knew exactly why but didn't recall the events themselves that led to his falling.

003

Andrew Edelman went downstairs for dinner. During this dinner, his slightly more prodigal brother, David Edelman said, "Studies have shown more people live on Earth than anywhere else." Andrew Edelman thought this comment was very funny and deserved to be written into the sequel to Septology he was writing.

He was quite surprised to find that his computer was missing. In it's place was a small piece of neon yellow paper.

Written on it in messy child-like print was the following:

003

003

003

003

003

001

001

---------

017

Andrew Edelman slowly picked up the paper. It was a bit warm and smelled of cheap vodka. On an impulse, Andrew Edelman looked up. His ceiling was gone, replaced by an inky black void. Then, for no apparent reason at all, he thought, I wonder what's for lunch.

001

Saddam Hussein felt so awkward he decided to call off the following day's invasion of Liechtenstein. For some odd reason, he knew, without knowing why he knew, that if you take a copy of a book called Septology and remove the second episode and then close the book it would cause a terrible nuclear explosion.

From that point on, he made it the business of Iraqi military to acquire as many copies of Septology as possible.

The Iraqi military accumulated an unknown number of Septologies before the Gingrich-effect was reported to the government of the United States. After the effect had been reported, all known copies of the book were destroyed except the ones under Saddam's bed in Baghdad.

002

001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001002B001001001002O001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001002RI001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001001002SY001001001001001002E001001001002LTS001001001001001002IN001001001001001001001001001001001002I001002S001001001002HE001001001001002RE001001001001001001001001001001001001003WELCOME TO MACIN001001001001003TOSH0010010010010010

This was written on a small sheet of neon red paper that fluttered oinxvwise (that is, via the fourth-dimension, which is, by the way, not time but another thing altogether called oinxv. Hence the preposition, oinxvwise) to the floor at Pooh's feet.

This being the year 1989, when most people didn't know about the fourth dimension, Pooh was unable to comprehend what he saw. In point of fact, it was indescribable, so Pooh made up the preposition and adjective "oinxvwise" to describe it.

Pooh handed the paper to Piglet, who said "Ooh, red!" in mocking awe.

"What does it say," asked the bear.

"Zero zero one zero zero one-" Piglet started.

"It's binary?" Pooh asked.

"No, it has letters." Piglet tore a relatively empty page of the New York Times Television section. In the margin he wrote the letters. He the proceeded to read them. "Borisyeltsinisherewelcometomacintosh." Piglet scowled at what he had written. Then his eyes lit up like the final dying burst of illumination of a thousand fireflies caught in center of some fierce combat in the jungles of Vietnam. "Oh, I see. It says, "Boris Yeltsin is here. Welcome to Macintosh."

"What the Hunny does that mean?" Pooh said. His head was creating so much heat that objects near him seemed distorted.

"Well," said Piglet, "Boris Yeltsin is like a dissident leader or something in Russia and 'Welcome to Macintosh' is what Macintosh computers say when you turn them on."

Suddenly, 001Boris Yeltsin appeared on the coffee table between Pooh and Piglet. Shortly thereafter a 003PowerBook Duo 230 appeared beside the resigned Russian leader.

"What the hum?" 001Boris Yeltsin said.

"Welcome to Macintosh," greeted the 003PowerBook Duo 230.

"Welcome to the Hundred Acre Woods!" greeted Pooh.

001Boris Yeltsin looked a bit frightened. In eerily perfect English, he said, "Are you aware that you are both talking animals?"

"Yup." said Pooh. "Are you aware you are Boris Yeltsin and a 003Macintosh computer?"

"No," said Boris. He looked to his right, saw the Macintosh and looked back at Pooh. "Yes."

Piglet picked up the Macintosh. He read the date next to the serial number. "1992"

This was peculiar to the simple folk of the year 1989 because the year 1992 would not exist for another three years. Boris, however, did not find this interesting at all because he thought it was January 7, 2000.

There was a prolonged discussion regarding this between Piglet and Boris in which every once in a while Pooh or the PowerBook Duo 230 would interject something stupid and be ignored.

The conversation ended when Boris noticed a small neon yellow piece of paper that fluttered to a rest on Pooh's nose.

On the paper, the following was printed in messy child-like handwriting:

003

003

003

001

001

001

001

002

---------

015

"Hey," said Pooh, "Do those papers seem a bit odd to anyone else?"

001

Dear Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book,

I have been an exceptionally good child this year. Therefore, I find that the following present are befitting of the level of goodness I have attained: anything but another cockroach. Each year I have been increasingly polite and courteous to others while also being submissive to the You, the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book. Nonetheless, I continually receive cockroaches for Almightylawgivingunopenedbookmas. I implore You, the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book, to please give me something other than more cockroaches.

Unchallengingly Yours,

[Child]

December 23, 2189

[Child], age nine, handed his letter, printed neatly on a piece of neon green paper to his [Female Parent], [FP] for short, or mother in pre-Septological holocaust terms. [FP] read the letter, keeping her mental barrier up so [Child] would be unable to probe her mind. [FP] handed the letter back to [Child]. {It seems a bit belligerent, [Child],} she thought to her son.

[Child] thought a four letter thought.

[Male Parent] was getting drunk withsome buddies from the praeseosmodium mine, across town. He mentally slapped [Child] once swiftly across the buttocks.

[Child] flinched, but repressed any more four letter thoughts. He turned his attention to his mother. {Awe, but [FP]! The Almighty Book, It always gives me cockroaches for Almightylawgivingunopenedbookmas. I need to deliver an ultimatum, and our God is the one who is gonna get it!} [Child] started to cry.

[FP] who was not a very good mother, seeing her child crying, thought to him quickly and nervously, {How about we go see the Opening of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book? Please? Please?}

Like the little turd he was, [Child] thought to [Female Parent] , {Okay. [FP], if you really want to.]

The Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book was stowed in a vast temple in the center of the only remaining human settlement, a hick town in Liechtenstein called Döghendoörff by the cockroaches and [Town] by the species that, at one point, long ago, was human. Temple of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book, referred to as [Temple] by the citizens of [Town], was a massive, highly unstable edifice, consisting mostly of scrap metal and rotting Twinkies.

It was to [Temple] that [Child] and [Female Parent] went to watch the greatest ceremony that would ever occur according to their religion. The Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book would be opened.

On an elevated dais at the center of [Temple] the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book had lain for what contemporary history records as "1000 years" but was in reality only 88. The Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book was white, with black text, written boldly on the cover a word no one would ever utter, either by mouth or by mind.

Ceremony begins: A monk scaled the huge podium, where he squatted to remain respectufully below than the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book. Another monk followed and another. Soon there were at least fifteen monks gathered around the exhaulted Book.

[Child] thought so hard about not thinking a four letter thought that he did. The other [Children] giggled at [Child]'s sheer audacity.

The High Priest of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book rose from a trap door near the Pedestal of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book and removed any memory of the word from their minds. With that he began to chant in the sacred wholly-verbal language of [Town]. "E Plab Nista oof {[Town]}," he thought-projected the concept of [Town] because no one could pronounce the verbal cockroachean name, "Saep Tológgee, Oondou Aedellmahn, und fucgtre und fucgtre und fuc-"

Quite unexpectedly, the High Priest disappeared before he could finish the third "fucgtre."

The [Children], including [Child], thought the truncated form of the sacred word "fucgtre" (which literally meant "Yo, yo, wasup, homey G paradigm in the house") was hysterically funny. They repeated it over and over until their [Parents] took away their allowances.

By the way, praeseosmodium was their currency and [Male Parent] and his buddies had just blown entire gross national product of [Town] on booze. This doubled the GNP, without anyone actually making any money.

002

001001001001001002B001001001001001001001001001001001001001002YE001001001001001001001001001001001001002BOR0001001001001001001002I001001001001001001001001001001001001002S0010010010010010010010010010010010010010010

Boris Yeltsin disappeared, to be replaced by a peculiar little 001man in a ratty old robe with huge pulsating veins glowing from any exposed flesh. "-gtre! E'latet wink numg-" 001he stopped vocalizing. The following thought appeared in the heads of Pooh and Piglet simultaneously. {Where the hell am 001[I]?}

Pooh passed out. It was the most complex thought that had ever been within the bloated boundaries of his skull. Piglet's house would smell like fried neurons for weeks afterward.

Seeing that he was causing distress, the old man tried to speak to them in the Sacred Tongue. This only caused more distress because the word in the Sacred Tongue sounded just like the dreadful slang-language of Episode VII.

Pooh woke up, the terrible Episode VII-like worlds jolting him awake like a cow in a Stealth Bomber over the Indian Ocean seeding the clouds so it would snow while chewing a dirty sock and humming "Dixie" backwards.

The old man tried once more to communicate, this time cautiously using the English that he had learned from a particularly educated cockroach. "Where a hell are me?"

"Welcome to Macintosh!" Pooh exclaimed unhelpfully.

"The Hundred Acre Woods, United States." Piglet said. This is before the revolution; remember, this is 1989 and everything is screwed up.

"Oh," said the old man.

"Who might you be?" Pooh asked.

"I am High Priest of Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book, Guardian of said book," The High Priest of Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book proclaimed grandly.

Piglet and the High Priest started talking about something that was far beyond the comprehension of Pooh. It would have been easy for Pooh to follow, had the word "Septological" not been thrown in at seemingly random intervals.

While Piglet and the High Priest droned on about matters incomprehensible, Pooh turned on the PowerBook Duo 230 and randomly opened a Microsoft Word file. To his surprise, it seemed to have been written by a fellow named Andrew Edelman who threw himself into the story whenever filler material was needed. In fact, it appeared to be the final episode of an anthology called Septology, in spite of the fact that the anthology itself was mentioned and played a vital role in the story.

This is where the file Pooh read ended.

Right here.

003

The ideas and revelations of the previous paragraph were Pooh's, read by Pooh, who then caused them to be written down and thus his own. The paradox created by this caused Andrew Edelman to pass out, who by that point was watching a rerun of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." It was an cool episode with the Borg and he was sad to have missed it.

002

"Holly fum," muttered Piglet after he had read the Microsoft Word file Pooh had shown him. Piglet offered the PowerBook Duo 230 to the High Priest of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book, who said he had already sucked the information directly from Pooh's mind.

"It doesn't clear anything up, Mr. Pig," said the High Priest. "All it does is belittle my religion and have tons of stupid numbers."

"What if the numbers are meaningful?" asked Owl from directly behind Pooh.

Pooh screamed, spraying Hunny all over the Piglet and the High Priest. "How long have you been standing behind me?"

"Oh, about four years," Owl muttered disdainfully.

"Oh," said Pooh, "How eerie."

"What do you think we should do, Owl?"

The High-Priest, who had no idea what the hell was going on, so he sucked the information from Pooh's brain.

Owl said, after reading the Microsoft Word file, "I believe these numbers are significant. You see how any passage that takes place in the Hundred Acre Woods is always headed by a two zeros and a two, and any passage involving the 001world that was destroyed is headed by two zeros and a one, and how any passage involving this 003Andrew Edelman is preceded by two zeros and a three? Also notice how any reference to any of the 001/003realities is preceded usually by their number. Then, at the end of a large number of reality shifts, the numbers are added to make some sort of sum-reality number. Thus far, we have three: 022, 017, 015."

"… and what do they mean, Owl?" Piglet asked.

"I don't knowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww000wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww t'don I"

.Asked Piglet "?Owl, mean they do what and…"

".015, 017, 022 :three have we, far thus. Number reality-sum of sort some make to added are numbers the ,shifts reality of number large a of end the as then-"

"Owl." Piglet said.

.Said Owl "?What"

"Owl." Pooh said.

.Again said Owl "?What"

"Your talking backwards," Pooh said.

".Not m'I no"

000

Pooh, Piglet, Owl and the High Priest of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book found themselves in a peculiar place. Surrounding them was pure inky back except for a small point of light far in the distance.

Disorientation swept over them. Boris Yeltsin appeared and disappeared from time to time, as did the fat teenager Andrew Edelman, though he was unconscious. Sometimes the faint sound of laughing could be heard, but never distinctly.

Things did become more… regular. Owl began to speak forwards again and new theories were put forth. Pooh grew hungry, his stomach rumbling loudly the mysteriously echoing void. No one remembered entering the void, other than the fact that they were there.

Pooh grew impatient. He also felt he had been here before. The Bear dropped to his knees. "Um?" He forgot what he was going to say and stood up. He dropped to his knees again. "Who are you?" he shouted. "What is this place?"

Silence.

"I AM SURPRISED YOU DON'T REMEMBER, EDWARD BEAR."

"Uh, God?" Pooh asked.

"'COME TO THE LIGHT, POOH?' REMEMBER? YOU SHOULD HAVE WENT TO THE BLOODY LIGHT, DAMMIT. BUT YOU DIDN'T. NOW YOUR ENTIRE QUANTUM REALITY WILL PAY FOR YOUR CAPRICIOUSNESS!"

Owl was becoming urinated off. "You are not God," he challenged the voice.

"OH, AND WHY NOT?"

"You said 'quantum,' but everyone knows God doesn't play dice!"

Silence. Booming, deafening silence; sock-reeking silence; the sort of silence that one creates when one realizes that one has been inadvertently milking a male cow for the past several minutes.

"OKAY. I AM NOT GOD."

"Then who are you, man?" Piglet demanded.

From the distant light, a figure emerged, seeming to be unspeakably enormous, but seeming to become smaller as it approached. "I AM 003!"

"That Andrew Edelman kid?" the High Priest asked, evidently unable to read this strange being's thoughts.

"NO!"

"What are you then?" Piglet demanded again.

"ZERO ZERO THREE!"

The figure coalesced into a small five inch tall cow doll. It maintained a distance of about twenty paces.

"I AM HERBIE THE COW! GUARDIAN OF REALITY 003. I AM ANDREW EDELMAN'S BOVINE OBSESSION. I MUST HAVE PREEMINENCE IN ANDREW EDELMAN. ALL OF YOU POOH PEOPLE MUST BE DESTROYED."

The High Priest of the Almighty Lawgiving Unopened Book raised his hand. "I'm not a Pooh person."

"NO, BUT YOU WERE INTRODUCED IN THIS STORY. THEREFORE, YOU MUST BE ANNIHILATED."

Pooh stepped forward. "I'm a bear of very little brain, and lets face it, whoever is reading this, if anyone is reading this, is also of very little brain. So, let me get this straight: You are a stuffed cow who is the representation of Andrew Edelman's obsession with cows."

"YES, IDIOT. I SAID THAT."

"You are trying to destroy my reality by causing Septologies in his-" Pooh pointed to the High Priest. "- to act as high yield explosive when Episode II is removed."

"THAT IS IT, SIMPLETON."

"By trying to remove my reality, you believe you will eliminate all competition within Andrew Edelman."

"LISTEN, DIMWIT, INSTEAD OF YOU STOPPING EVERY SENTENCE TO WAIT FOR CONFIRMATION, HOW ABOUT I JUST STOP YOU WHEN YOUR WRONG?"

"What about that girl Andrew Edelman likes?"

"EGAD, YOU IMBECILE! HAVE YOU SEEN THAT KID?"

"Andrew Edelman?"

"YEAH."

"Oh, I suppose your right." Pooh was stumped, having exhausted all of his brainpower supply and now into next eon's brainpower budget.

Owl whispered into Pooh's ear, "Distract him, I have a plan."

Pooh turned back to the disgruntled artificial bovine. "So, where you the one who made Episode III suck so much?"

"MOSTLY. IT WAS ALSO ANDREW EDELMAN RUNNING LOW ON IDEAS WHILE ALSO IMITATING THE STYLE OF ANOTHER WRITER WHO WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE USUAL WRITERS HE IMITATES-"

"022, 017, 015!" shouted Owl.

300

This is a bit weird.

I was just sitting in my room reading when suddenly Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet, fully animated, just appeared out of nowhere. They took one look at me and proceeded to tear the head of my Herbie-the-cow doll.

It was one weird dream.

I think.

001

Boris Yeltsin sat in his office on the cold winter's morning or December 31, 1999, about to resign. Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet appeared to him with five trillion dollars in hard currency, the equivalent of a septillion rubles.

Boris decided not to resign.

Everything turned out all right for the inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Woods reality (002). Things were a bit screwed up in 001 for a while, but, thankfully, the Gingrich-effect was not discovered until after humanity had nuked itself out of existence, so it didn't do much.

"One thing still bothers me, Piglet," Pooh said. "Who gave us all those convenient notes?"

Behind Pooh, a neon-yellow piece of paper settled on the ground. The bear never saw it. The note was ingested by a street cleaner and never seen again. In the distance, the hearty Russian laugh of a former Communist leader who had acquired superpowers due to overexposure to radiation could be heard faintly in the breeze.