The Madness Continues ....

The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
from "The Pooh Book of Quotations" by A. A. Milne

Pooh Bear was woefully frightened. It was past nightfall and he was lost in the limerick woods. A storm was raging, and it appeared there was no end in sight. The winds were billowing, lightning was flaring, thunder was rolling, trees were twisting and groaning and moaning, and the rain was falling in torrents, causing the forest floor to appear a swirling sea of leaves, debris and mud.

"Oh dear me!" sighed Pooh. "If I do not find a shelter soon I will drown. And I would much rather drown in a bucket filled with hunny." Pooh Bear was standing beneath a very large cypress tree, perhaps the largest tree in all of the forest. He looked up with the rain on his face and tried to make out the shape of the top of the tree. "I wonder," mumbled Pooh. "I wonder if this giant tree holds a hollow full of bees? If I was a bee, this would be the tree for me."

Meanwhile, at a very short distance, a group of young campers were sitting, huddled beneath a battered army tarp anchored between four cypress trees. The shelter had been erected in a haphazard effort to spare them the worst of the storm.

However, the wind was blowing the rain at such a sharp angle it was the most they could do to keep their small campfire alive by surrounding it with their crowded bodies. The warmth from the fire was small comfort against the imposing fingers of the storm. Their garments were soaked, their bedrolls soggy, and they had no food because little Blunder had forgotten to pack the can opener.

"I'm wet, I'm cold, I'm hungry," whined little
Young King. "And I want my Mommy! "Isn't there some way to rustle up some grub? I wish my Great,Great Grandpa Donner was in charge. He was a famous trail guide, don't you know? He would never allow his camping party to go cold and hungry. "

"Brace up lads," interrupted the voice of Uncle Andy. "We've no fear of starving, and the rain will soon end. I am a man of the world and I've weathered worse storms than this in my day."

No sooner had he uttered these words, than a lightning bolt struck a large cypress tree not fifty yards from the camp. The tree was split in half and went crashing down to greet the forest floor. The ensuing fireball danced uncertain around the forest, then clicked it's heels together and was gone, leaving the sharp stench of sulphur in the air. At least that was what Uncle Andy would have them believe.

The night had been illuminated for only a brief moment, but it had seemed an eternity to the startled campers. During that brief interval they saw, or thought they saw, the silhouette of someone near the base of the charred cypress stump, in the rain. And, if they were not mistaken, a voice had cried out as if in pain.

"We have a visitor," announced Yael.

"Is it man or beast," asked Wen. "Can you tael?"

"It's a limerick," stammered little Johnny. "It's a limerick and it is going to butcher us all."

"Hah!" Exclaimed Young King. "I'm not scared of no limerick. It has probably come to pay homage to my greatness. I'm evolved from royalty, don't you know?"

"Settle down children," spoke Uncle Andy. "This is no time to be getting frightened. Let us not forget where we are. This is a wood and it's filled with wild b'ar. And true, there are dangerous limericks roaming about. All the more reason we be sticking together. It's a known fact limerick's get meaner, the fouler the weather."

"HALLO, OUT IN THE RAIN," hollered the good Hooty Owl. "IF YOU ARE FRIENDLY, COME AND SIT WITH US BY THE FIRE."

There was no answer. The campers waited. "Perhaps that lightning bolt has kilt him," offered Ty. "He might be unable to answer us. I suggest we venture forth and find out just why."

"What do you say, Les?" Added he. "Myself, Dancer, and you? "

"And I will go too," volunteered Jackaroo. And away they all went.

"Hey guys! Come Quick!" hollered the four from the dark. "It's Pooh Bear, we think, and he's finished, exclamation mark!"

"For certain, it is Pooh," added Uncle Andy with a sigh. "I believe he's dead. The lightning has kilt him with a jolt to his head."

"Can't any one help him?" cried Jill, with the rain stinging her eyes "We might revive him. I mean, at least we should try." She held, clutched to her bosom, her prized stuffed teddy bear. So it wasn't surprising she'd feel empathy for Pooh lying there.

"Let's eat him," suggested Johnny Bravo, poking the chubby bear with his finger. "He's already halfway cooked, and once cut up into cubes he'd make a great stew, a tasty humdinger."

But then, on the ground in the mud, Pooh Bear stirred, mumbled incoherently, and said, "Auntie Em? Auntie Em? Is that you Auntie Em?"

"He's alive," exclaimed that naval aviator, Tige MacOor. "He is only scared stiff, nothing more. It's shell shock that he's got, from that bolt to his knot. He'll get over it, or he won't, either or.

"I still say we eat him," suggested Johnny. "His brain is scrambled. He won't mind in the least."

"I hate you Johnny," cried Jill. "You're a beast!"

"I know it," answered Johnny. "Ain't I grand?"

"We must build a travois," suggested Hootie Owl. "This lad requires urgent medical attention."

"Aye," complied Scotch Mist. "We can use our tarp to support him and two branches for suspension."

"We cannot give up our shelter," argued Young King. "You guys can help pooh bear, or leave him. I do not care. I'm going back to our tarp and sit by the fire." And that is exactly what he did. He would not budge even while Dancer, Don, Ed and Blunder removed the tarp from above his head.

"I'm not helping," said Young King. "You guys go ahead and play the fools. I'm sitting right here and abiding my own rules."

"Suit yourself," answered Dancer. "Maybe we'll see you on the morrow. But if a limerick eats you, I'll not feel a deep sorrow."

Soon the rescuers had poor Pooh Bear lifted up on the truss. "We must hurry," spoke Uncle Andy. "The river is rising as we speak." They worked quickly together. No banter. No fuss. Lined up on each side of the travois they quickly set off, wading through rainfall as deep as a creek.

Young King, sitting stubbornly by himself at the camp, soon found his humble campfire deluged by the rain. "I'm not moving," said he. "I'll not give them the satisfaction." But at that moment something in the shadows caught his attention. Young King blinked his eyes. His jaw hung slack. A limerick stood before him. A she-limerick at that. He give her a full measure. She measured him back. She was tall, and lovely, and as soaking wet as a prout. His chest felt tight, he wanted to shout.

"Dangerous limerick my hiney," said he with a snort. "She already adores me, I can tell without a doubt. I'll tame this lassie, and it won't even be sport. No lady alive can resist a little Shakespeare, and I am the future king of Shakespearean Art." And he presented her with a sonnet he'd been saving up.

She did not seem amused.

"Hehehe," said he, that wasn't my finest work. "Wouldst thou care to hear another?" And he spouted out another refrain, as equal in measure to the one before.

She was definitely frowning now. A sinister gleam had arisen in her eye and she withdrew from her tresses a long bladed sword. The edge so sharp, it glistened even in that rain deluged darkness.

Oh lordy, it had dawned on him, she wasn't impressed. "I have others," he cried. But he was so frightened he stammered over the words.

She came at him with the sword upraised.

He screamed! "Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiieeee!"

He ducked to the left, dodged to the right, and fled into the darkness screaming back obscenities into the night. "You are all alike," he cried. "You are jealous of my position in life. Ha! You will always be low class. Whereas I, am an aristocrat!"

"Someone is pursuing us," alerted Young Prince Drakonis to his pooh-bearing clan.

"Plunge onward, Troops," shouted Hootie. " I will bring up the rear. I can handle a bad limerick should one venture near."

"Isn't he so brave and daring?" proclaimed little Mayfly. "But, keep your hands off him girls, he's the apple in my pie."

"All is clear guys," announced Hootie, "Now ain't this a lark? It's only our little friend, Young King. He's running kinda fast. I think he might be skairt of the dark."

"WAAAAAA!!!" Hollered Young King. "There's a naughty limerick chasing me. I didn't do nothing wrong, but she's as mad as she can be."

"A naughty limerick, did you say?" asked Johnny. "I'd like to see one of those."

"Don't do it Johnny," warned Blunder. "You'll not win the battle."

"I must," replied Johnny. "I am an outlaw and I belong in the saddle." And Johnny Bravo turned himself about and went off in search of the beast in the dark.

"Oh Johnny," sighed Jill. "You're so wooly and wild. If my heart wasn't already promised to my teddy bear, you'd own it." And she smiled.

"That poor lad," spoke Hootie. "He'll not survive out in that wood. If we are being pursued by a limerick, I shudder should they meet."

"You are correct," added Uncle Andy. "Spring has arrived. And Limericks go mad in the Spring of each year. They get lovesick, and lewd, and brazen and loud. Poor Johnny is most likely, at this moment, being fitted for a shroud.

"Let's move onward," suggested Ed. "I agree," replied Don. And that pooh bearing troup advanced through the woods on the run.

"Oh cripers," shouted Jackaroo. "We're finished! We're through!"

"What is it?" asked Andy. "What's the matter?" asked Hoots.

"The bridge has washed out," answered Yael with a yell. And the sound of her sigh could be heard above the roar of the river and it's despairing knell.

"Can we swim it?" asked the children. "The current looks strong."

"It's too risky," replied Dancer. "Our arms are tired from carrying Pooh, and ... we've been carrying him for so long, too!"

Just then, from out of the trees raced Johnny Bravo himself. "Run! Run! They're right behind me, you guys. Hundreds and hundreds, in every shape, form and size. They are going to overrun us, Oh Lawdy, Lawdy! They're deranged, demented, discrepant and bawdy."

"What are they?" asked Uncle Andy with concern.

"Why, they are limericks of course," answered Johnny. "And they are hungry for rhymes. I tried my best to supply them, but could not do it alone. They are so many to our few, what can we do? And I'm sure I saw one gnawing on a human leg bone."

"If we pool our resources," suggested Uncle Andy, "we just might turn their tide. But I have to warn you all, it might be a wild, bumpy ride."
"Of course I 'll do my part to even the odds," volunteered Bonnie MacOor. "I'll be a playin' on me pipes .... "

"And Young King," added Blunder, "can dazzle them with the slight of his hand. teeheehee."

"They are advancing," warned Hootie. "Let us make up our minds. Do we stand united and fight it out as a team? Or do we leave Pooh behind us, bail into the river, and swim?"

"That is a stoopid question." Answered Young King. "KERSPLASH! PADDLE! PADDLE!"

The Rainfall continued ... pitter ... patter ... pitter ... patter ... the lightning flashed, thunder boomed ... rippppp ... boom ... kaboom ... pitter ... patter ... pitter ... patter.

.... and on the near shore, several half-drowned persons are seen dragging themselves from the turgid waters.

"Did everyone get out alive," inquired Uncle Andy of Hootie.

"I hope so," replied Hootie. "Although I am sure some were swept much further downstream. I myself saw our friend Young King clinging to a root. I'm sure it'll wash ashore before it reaches the falls. And Johnny was swimming upstream ... ain't sure about him ... but that's just his nature to be fightin' waves head on."

"The girls and the gents were hanging onto pooh's stretcher quite tightly. They should be ashore by this time though I saw them last at the turn of the bend."

"You go then and see to them," suggested Uncle Andy. "I've unfinished business on the opposite bank."

"You must be kidding," gasped Hootie.
"You are not going back?".

"That I am," answered Andy. "I am a man of adventure. I'm a mercenary. A fighter. A limerick tamer. True, we stood together and we soundly whupped them limericks and watched them scatter. But, if left alone, those untamed strays might reconnoiter. Should they regroup, who knows but we may never again have such a troup of fighters as we had here tonight. I must see to it that the job is not left unfinished."

"God bless you," stammered Hootie, and he shook him vigorously by the hand. "If our path's should never cross again, I can at least tell everyone that ... *choke* ... I knew a man."

He glanced up, but Andy was no longer there. He heard a splash and turning, through the drenching rain, caught fleeting glimpses of strong arms pounding their way through the waves. Hootie pointed his feet downstream and set forth to find his comrades.

"Don't you worry pooh," assured Dancer. "We'll get you to the doctor soon enough."

"What's wrong with him," asked Les. "Is he drownded? He appears kinda stiff."

"I think he just swallered a lot of water," replied Wen. "That, on top of being struck by a lightning bolt, has overtaxed his system."

"And now he's in a coma," added Yael.

"If he awakes from the coma," said Tige, "it is possible he may never speak again. Most likely he has bitten off his tongue too. I noticed also that his mouth appears to be welded shut. I could not pry his teeth apart to clean out the river water he swallowed."

"Yea," inserted Don, "He ain't all there. His eyes look all glassy. Our friend pooh won't ever be the same again!"

"Hey guys," chuckled Scotch Mist. "Don't he look a awful lot like the teddy bear that Jill carries around."

"Yeah," agreed Lester. "By the way ... where is Jill?"

"She's run off home already," answered Blunder. "Said she had to get home and see about doctoring her teddy bear. There was something said about pouring a hot bath, soft music and satin sheets ......"

"Poor Ol' Pooh," sighed Miss T. "What'll ever become of you now?"

"Only time will tell," answered Dancer. "If nothing else, we could always sell him to Disney!"

"HALLO," shouted Hootie, approaching from the beach. "If everyone is accounted for, let's get this pooh bear to the hospital."

Meanwhile, on the opposite bank of the river .... Uncle Andy has come upon the first of the scattered limericks ... sitting alone ... and forlorn ... on a large rock in the rain. Andy approaches. He begins to speak in rhyme, the limerick has leapt to it's feet, but soon reposes back onto the stone, a pleasant smile plays on it's face as Andy speaks ....



There was a wise fellow named Andy,
Who'd win genteel ladies with candy.
But his mouth gaped wide,
As a young miss replied,
"I am not a nice girl .... I'm Randy!"


(Happy Limerick Hunting Everyone ... All The Best ... pooh)

Written By: George Avery
03/31/01


THE END

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