Pooh's Halloween In Limerick Land

"I'm just a little black raincloud,hovering under the honey tree. I'm just a little black raincloud; pay no attention to little old me. Everyone knows that a raincloud doesn't like honey-- no not a nip. I'm just a little black raincloud looking for somewhere to drip!"
(pooh)

Pooh Bear was frightened. For the road ahead led into an unexplored sector of the Hundred Acre Wood. The rickety old sign lying in the leaves said Kristen's Wood Ahead. "Strange," said Pooh, "I never noticed this place before. I wonder who this Kristen could be?"

"If only Christopher Robin were here, he could perhaps tell me. But, if I am to pursue the Jolly Oligist I will discover who she is soon enough."

Pooh stood the sign upright once more and muttered, "Oh bother, I wish someone had picked this up their own self once they knocked it over, and saved me the trouble of having to do it. It is always the little things that folks neglect to do."

As pooh entered the dense curtain of Kristen's Wood, Hootie Owl called down to him from where he sat, perched on a branch: "Who goes there? WHO? WHO? WHO?"

"I am a bear," said Pooh, "and my name is Pooh."

"Can you rhyme," asked Hootie.

"Why YES," answered Pooh. "If I take my time."

"Welcome," said Hootie. "You may pass on through. I'll check and see if KLT has a space in her classroom for you. She's a stickler for correctness you know."

"No, I did not know," said Pooh. "But I have no time to be schooled by a marm. I must find the Jolly Oligist while his trail is still warm."

"Be that as it may," hooted Hootie," should you chance to spy a Limerick, I advise you to stay out of it's way."

"I do not believe," said Pooh, "that I have ever seen one of those. I am only a silly pooh bear don't you knows. Is a Limerick dangerous? Are they big and cantangerous?"

"Oh Goodness, YES," hooted Hootie, "They'll eat you alive, unless you're one of the best."

"Oh bother," said Pooh, "Are there many about?"

"Without a doubt," hooted Hootie. "Several are born each day. Speaking in rhyme will appease them, but that is the only way. Even then, sometimes your words will annoy them and then they will eat you if you do not avoid them."

"Oh, bother," pouted Pooh. "How am I to avoid them," he asked with a sigh. "Will you come with me Hootie and help me get by?"

"Why of course," hooted Hootie. "I'd find it my obligatory duty."

"Who is this Jolly Oligist of whom you spy," inquired Hootie. "I find it hard to believe he could have eluded my ever watchful eye."

"Oh he is near," answered Pooh, "and find him I will. For he has stolen all the whimsy from under the Hundred Acre Hill. He came in the night, and left before dawn. He took it all. Our hill of whimsy is gone."

"Did I hear you correctly," asked the wise Hootie Owl. "Did you say whimsy?"

"I think so," stammered Pooh. "I cannot be sure. Oh yes, silly me, I did say whimsy. Pardon me, my mind sometimes gets dimsy."

"That is something," hooted Hootie, "we need in this wood. We have wit. We have rhyme. We are not short on meter. But whimsy we are shy of, could you spare us a liter?"

"Oligist has taken much, much more than that to his lair," answered Pooh. "I will gladly oblige you if you'll come with me there."

"Let us stop by the classroom," hooted Hootie, "and talk with Miss T. When she hears of this good news, she'll most likely pee."

"Can you rhyme," asked Miss T.

"I can," answered Pooh. "If given the time."

"Are you learned," asked Miss T. "Are you a veteran of schools? Do you know what an anapest is? Do you follow the rules?"

"An anapest," pondered Pooh. "Is it a rabbit, a piglet, a gopher, or roo?"

"Ha! Ha!" laughed little Dancer, "I thought so too."

"Perhaps he thinks, "quipped up little Tige MacOor, "that he's a Shakespeare clone. Maybe he prefers to talk in sonnet form."

"He's cute," whispered little Mayfly. "He makes me all warm."

"What is your name," asked little Canuck7. "Are you Eric Clapton?"

"I think he's of low birth," volunteered proud little Young King. "He isn't nobility. He's what I'd call common."

"He sure ain't no Scot," said wee bonny MacOor, "or he'd be wearing a kilt."

"Whoops," said Nichelangelo, stooping down at his desk. "My colorful painter's palette just spilt."

"Mmmmm," said Rosie, "he's got potential."

"He's got a quick wit," said young Dark Dane, "and that is essential."

"His name is Pooh Bear," hooted Hootie Owl. "He brings us a new weapon to aid us in battle. We can now appease the limericks aided with whimsy in our prattle."

"Did I hear you correctly," exclaimed Miss T. "Whimsy? Goodness! Class, I must go to the restroom! I'll be back directly."

"Yes," explained Pooh. "I can provide you with whimsy, just as Master Hootie reported. But first I must pursue the Jolly Oligist, for he has it all hoarded."

"I'll come along with you," volunteered young Six Shooter. "I carry twin pistols and am loaded for bear."

"You will need me as a lookout," volunteered young Besure.

"You will require the added muscle," said that wee poet Blunder, "of Petra, of myself, and that big dashing Blonde Swede."

"We will all assist you," said little Eric Limm. "I deplore anyone who has more whimsy than they need."

"Then follow me," shouted Pooh, in his silly Pooh voice. "We'll find the Oligist, and spank him with branches, and pelt him with stones."

"Hear! Hear!" Shouted each of those steadfast young poets. "We'll soon be nursing newborne limericks with gruel made from the powder of his bones."

"Not I," protested the proud poet Young King. "I'll not call him my equal, he's a silly bear indeed.. I'll not follow him anywhere. I am a prince. I do not follow. It is my place to lead."

Deep in the thicket of Kristen's Wild Wood, Miss T. suddenly exclaimed: "Class, there's something I should mention. We forgot little Johnny Bravo, locked away in detention."

"It serves him right," hooted Hootie owl, "for the foul language he's used. Out here he'd only get eaten by one of the limericks he's abused."

"Over there," pointed Pooh, "lies the Oligist's lair. Yes, indeedy," said he, "that is his den. He and the whimsy are most likely holed up within."

"Quick fellows," suggested Pooh. "Everyone rush inside! And get ready to fight! Here, I'll lock the door while someone finds the light. Fast! Light a candle, so we can all see. Tee Hee Hee!"

"What is this," hooted Hootie. "I don't like this at all. Where is the whimsy, Master Pooh?"

"Oh, that," said Pooh Bear. "It is right here by the wall."
"But that is only a balloon," observed Miss T, if I'm not mistaken."

"You are not mistaken," answered Pooh. "To me it is whimsy. To others it's a balloon, I reckon."

"And where is the Jolly Oligist," asked the bonny Tige MacOor. "Is he part of your whimsy too.'

"Oh no. He is there," motioned Pooh bear, "right next to your shoe."

"Egad!" Exclaimed everyone, as they saw what lay in the sand. Bonnie Tige MacOor stooped and arose with a polished skull in his hand.

"Alas! Poor Yorik!" Quote he, as he knelt on one knee.

"This is looking much worse to me," hooted Hootie.

"You've locked us in," chuckled Dancer. "You have given us a scare. But I am not fooled. Tonight is Halloween. You silly Pooh bear."

"Tee hee hee!" Chuckled Pooh. You have got me there. I did trick you guys. But it doesn't end here. I am not who you think. I am not Pooh Bear."

Pooh then unzipped the front of his costume and out stepped .....

"T-I- double -guh-r-r, that spells" "TIGGER"

"Whooo! Hoooo! Hoooo!" Exclaimed Hootie.
"This has been well worth admission. But where is silly Ol' Pooh. Is he hiding inside another room?"

"Oh no!" Smiled Tigger. I had Ol' Pooh over for lunch months ago. Where do you think I got this wonderful costume?"

"Tee Hee Hee!"

"I brought the tricks. You guys have brung the treats."

"Bonnie Tige," resumed Tigger, "how 'bouts you play on them pipes while me and the other guests EATS!"

"RIPPP! TEARRR! GOBBLE! GOBBLE! CRUSH! CHOP! CHOMP!"

******************

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"I CAN HEAR YOU GUYS IN THERE," hollers Johnny Bravo. "YOU ARE HAVING A PARTY, I CAN TELL. I AM NOT STUPID. I CAN HEAR ALL THE SINGING AND HOLLERING. PLEASE, LET US IN!"

"YEA," pleads Young King, "WE HEAR YOU PLAYING THOSE BAGPIPES TIGE. WON'T YOU LET US IN GUYS? I'M SORRY I WAS BEING SNOOTY."

"COME ON YOU GUYS! WE DONE BEEN PUNISHED ENOUGH! WHAT DO YOU SAY? LET US IN! PLEEEASE?"

I says: "T-I- double -guh-r-r!"

HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS

(and thanks for not stoning me all them times I crippled a limerick! ... pooh)

Written By: George Avery
10/18/00


THE END

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