This is the story of a boy named Christopher. Now if you have ever read anything about
Christopher before, you know that he once had a cockatiel named Pooh. That was many years ago,
and when Pooh left us, we took his name, as we figured he wouldn’t want it anymore.

So when Asshole Robb asked for a new name, one that wouldn’t get him laughed at so much,
Christopher immediately assigned the name “Robby-the-Pooh,” and so it was.

I had come about this far in my writings when Paulet looked up at me and said in his squeaky
voice, “What about me?” I told Paulet that the entire story was about him. “So it is about
Robby-the-Pooh,” said Paulet. Paulet was jealous, because he thought Pooh is having a grand
introduction all to himself. Pooh is favorite, of course, but Paulet has many qualities that Pooh lacks. If
you take Pooh to school, everyone will know, but Paulet is small enough to fit in your pocket, with
only his nose sticking out just above the seam.

And now the others are asking “What about us,” so maybe it is best to stop writing the
introduction and get on with the story.

Once upon a time, in the Twenty-Acre Forest, there lived an asshole named Robby-the-Pooh.
Pooh was a silly old asshole, and as we find him today, he is sitting on the log outside of his home,
thinking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” muttered Pooh as he beat his forehead against the end of his log. He decided
that the thinking would go easier if he went for a walk.

So in the course of his walk, he came upon a very, very, very high wall with a loud humming
coming from the other side. He wondered what could be on the other side of the wall, but as I said, it
was a very high wall, and being a very short creature, Pooh decided to walk along the wall until he
came to a gate or a door. He skipped along humming a merry tune, when he met his good friend
Paulet, who was sitting and crying beside the wall.

“What have you to cry about on such a perfect day?” asked Pooh.

“Oh, I am very worried. My glaucoma is acting up terribly, Pooh, and I need what’s on the other
side of this wall to make it better.”

“Well, come along with me then, old friend, and we will walk along this very high wall until we
find a door. Then we can go in and get what you need to help with your glaucoma.”

Paulet thought for a moment, and not finding any problem with the idea, decided to join Pooh in
the quest for an entrance to the wall.

The pair walked along the wall for some time before realizing that it was a great circle, and that
there were no doors, windows, gates, holes, or any other ways to gain entrance to what lay on the
other side.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” said Pooh. “Now why would anyone want to build a wall that has no way
in?” Neither of them could come up with an answer.

“I think, maybe, that what is on the other side of this wall is something that we should not have,”
said Pooh.

“But Pooh,” said Paulet, “I need the grass that is on the other side for my glaucoma!”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, Paulet! There is grass under your feet!”

“No, Pooh, this is special grass that helps my eyes and trouble dealing with reality. The grass on
the ground is only for cattle.”

“Well, if my friend needs this special grass to see better, than we shall sit here and think until we
think of a way to get over that wall,” said Pooh.

And so the two friends sat on the ground and thought.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pooh and Paulet had been thinking for a very long time…nearly five minutes…when they heard
the sound of something or someone bouncing through the forest. Suddenly it came into sight; a strange
creature neither of them knew, in a car that hopped rather than rolled.

The car stopped next to Pooh and Paulet. The door opened and out stepped a strangely dressed
man with dark skin. “’Sup?” asked the man.

“No thank you friend, we have eaten already,” said Pooh.

“Yes. We don’t have time to eat now anyways,” said Paulet, “we are trying to think of a way to
get over this wall.

“Well, shit man, this car gets some air, but it ain’t all that, naw what I’m sayin’?” said the strange man.

“Well, that’s too bad,” said Pooh. “Um…I’m afraid that I do not know your name. Do you live
in the woods here?”

“Shit, man, naw. I just heard there was a fly ass party up this way, knawhatahmsayin? Some
crazy bitches just waitin’ to get some dark chocolate, and that’s me. My name is Nigga.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Nigger.”

“WHAT? Man, fuck you, breadstick! The name’s Nigga. Don’t make me smoke yo’ ass, foo’.”

“No, Pooh.”

“Whayou say, cracker?”

“He said his name is Pooh, not Foo, Mr. Nigga. And if you want to smoke something, you
should help us get over this wall. There will be plenty for all of us to smoke.”

Nigga thought that sounded fine. They thought of many ideas to get over the wall, but none of
them would work.

“Pooh, why don’t we go ask someone else for help?” asked Paulet.

“That’s a good idea, Paulet.” And off they went.

Robby-the-Pooh, Paulet, and Nigga bounced along in Nigga’s car to the burrow in which
Pooh’s good friend Faggot lived. They got out of the car and carefully made their way through
Faggot’s garden to knock on his door.

“Hello? Faggot? Are you about?” called Pooh.

After several minutes of silence, the trio turned to leave. Just then Faggot’s front door opened,
and a young boy (just about Christopher’s age, imagine that!) ran out, trying to pull his trousers back
on. Faggot followed closely, a twelve-inch black rubber cock in his hand. He stopped as soon as he
saw Pooh, Paulet, and Nigga.

“Oh, hello fellows, I was just trying to return that… boy scout’s… pin.”

“Well, you can mail it to him,” said Pooh. “We are badly in need of your assistance.”

They explained their problem to Faggot, who scratched his leopard-spotted head as he listened.
Finally he asked, “Why do you need to get over the wall so badly?”

“Shit, biatch, ainchou been listenin’?” shouted Nigga. “We need some phat weeeeeeed, y’all.
Smoke us some SHI-AT!!” Everyone stared at Nigga.

“If you need weeds, I have plenty in my garden.” Faggot waved a hand at his garden of carrots
and cucumbers.

“No Faggot,” said Paulet, “this is a special weed. I need it for my glaucoma, Nigga needs some
for his ‘hos, and Pooh needs some to clear his head of any and all linear thought.”

“Oh, THAT kind of weed,” said Faggot. “That sounds like fun. Let me set my VCR to record
Gilmore Girls and I’ll be right back with you.”

As Robby-the-Pooh, Paulet, Nigga, and Faggot bounced their way back to the wall, they saw
their old friends Walla and his son Bea (I don’t think I need to tell you that Bea got beaten up quite a
bit).

They explained their problem to Walla and Bea, but it didn’t matter too much, since Walla and
Bea always had the same thoughts at the same time as Pooh and Paulet.

They were, however, the only ones who had a good idea about how to get through the wall.
Walla and Bea had a neighbor named Sean. Sean was a big K-State student who was dating a
bisexual biology major. He lived in a dorm at the top of a tree, and no one really talked to him much
since he was sort of off.

Sean was, however, the only arms dealer in the forest. He sold them a rocket launcher and they
were on their way again.

So Robby-the-Pooh, Paulet, Nigga, Faggot, Walla, and Bea all went to the wall. Sitting by the
wall was Eeyorkwis. Eeyorkwis was the jackass who lived in the forest and smoked a lot.

“Hello, friend Eeyorkwis,” said Pooh. “We are here to destroy this wall and get what’s on the
other side. Would you care to help us?”

“What’s the point?” asked Eeyorkwis around his cigarette. “The wall’s too thick, and even if you
get through, there are armed guards on the other side waiting to kill you.”

Everyone looked at Eeyorkwis and blinked for a moment. “So you won’t help us?” asked
Paulet.

“Oh, you must be the one who went to school then. No, I won’t help you. And for the others,
noooooooooooo IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII wwwwwwwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllllllllll
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooot hhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllllllllp
yyyyyyyyyyyyooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuu. Does that clear things up or should we work out a
system of winks and nods?”

Nigga started to aim the rocket launcher at Eeyorkwis, but Pooh stopped him. “Eeyorkwis, we
only want to get over there so we can get some stuff to smoke.”

“Smoke? Why didn’t you say so? Call me crazy, but when I tell someone of my plan to blow a
hole in a wall with a rocket launcher, I also maybe drop a hint as to why.”

So the group set about loading the rocket launcher and fired one rocket at the wall. A hole got
blown into it, quick as a wink.

So Robby-the-Pooh, Paulet, Nigga, Faggot, Walla, Bea, and Eeyorkwis all ran in through the
new hole in the wall. This is the point in which the trouble started. Thirty or so highly trained
government soldiers rushed at our friends, and there was much stuffing and blood spilt.

Now I will save you the details of this exercise in violence, so we will skip to our next chapter,
lest more people are hurt than need be.

The group sat victorious on their pile of weed and smoked and smoked and smoked, giggling
and eating Twinkies. Pooh could finally think clearly. Paulet felt as big as any of the others, and his
glaucoma went away. Nigga got himself hella fucked up. Walla and Bea couldn’t keep up with each
other’s thoughts anymore, which they thought (at the same time) was funny. Eeorkwis muttered
something about it not being tobacco and left. And silly old Faggot raped the corpse of many a fallen
soldier.

Through the haze of smoke a figure appeared. It was our friend Christopher, come to see what
all the screaming and explosions had been about.

“Ah…I see you found my secret stash,” said Christopher.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!” screamed Pooh. “Since when did your voice get
so… creepy?”

“When… my voice changed, it got… spooky,” said Christopher.

“I’ll say,” said Pooh.

“Well boys, I hope you enjoy the weed, for after it is smoked I will be putting you back in the
toy chest,” said Christopher. “I am off to shoot a music video for Fatboy Slim.”

So the friends smoked every last leaf, and then said their good-byes, wishing each other a good
night until they would each meet again in a later adventure.

Right before Christopher closed the lid on his toy chest, Paulet asked Pooh, “What’s the first
thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?”

“I need a cigarette. What about you?”

“I wonder what adventure we will have today,” said Paulet.