Case (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
case) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomsecrets2012-11-19 05:26 pm
case) wrote in fandomsecrets2012-11-19 05:26 pm
[ SECRET POST #2148 ]
⌈ Secret Post #2148 ⌋
Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.
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Notes:
Secrets Left to Post: 04 pages, 080 secrets from Secret Submission Post #307.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ], [ 1 2 3 4 - doing a bit of troll-weeding ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.
Re: Dredging up some of my weird prompts just for you.
Re: The Demise of the Hundred Acre Wood
The morning of the demise of the friends of the hundred acre woods dawned bright, cold, and sunny and Pooh-
“Excuse me, Mister narrator sir?” said Pooh, momentarily distracted from his morning exercises by the narration.
“Yes?” asked the narrator.
“What is a dee-mise? Only because, you made it sound rather bothersome and I do like to know when you plan to make things stormy around the hundred acre woods so I can gather up some honey and get an umbrella from Christopher Robin.” Pooh said, frowning.
“A demise is an end, Pooh.” said the narrator.
Pooh made an alarmed face.
“An end? That doesn’t sound very good. What kind of an end is it?” he asked.
“Well, you’ll never know unless you let me get on with this story. Weren’t you supposed to be preparing for Piglet’s birthday today? Off you pop.” said the narrator to Pooh.
“Oh yes,” said Pooh, rubbing his tummy in worry, “And while we prepare I can tell everyone about our dee-mise so that maybe it doesn’t happen. Thank you mister narrator!”
His tummy grumbled.
“Oh bother, all of this worry has made me hungry. Best have a snack before I leave.”
He rustled about his cabinets and in the pots along his walls for honey but came up with nothing.
“Oh dear,” he said, “A dee-mise on an empty stomach. This does not sound like a happy day.”
***
Pooh’s morning walk about the hundred acre woods was a quiet one. The wind rustled about the trees, which normally pleased Pooh but today left him feeling a bit spooked.
“Where is everyone?” he said to himself as he approached Piglet’s house.
The sight when he opened the door was a haunting one. Every single one of his friends was lying on the floor with their eyes shut; their pores were oozing a glistening yellow sticky substance and Pooh couldn’t hear any breathing. Pooh ran over to piglet with his eyes full of tears. He propped up his head; Piglet hacked up some of the substance.
“Piglet, what happened to you? What happened to all of you?” he cried.
“It was t-t-t-terrible. All of a sudden we started leaking this substance and the narrator. . .the narrator!”
“What did the narrator say, Piglet? Was it about the dee-mise?” he asked frantically.
Piglet nodded.
“He-he-he said that-that we were going to turn into honey and that you were going to eat us. Pooh, I’m so scared!” he shouted weakly.
Pooh turned his face up at the sky.
“Is that true, mister narrator? Is it really going to end this way?”
“Yes it is,” said the narrator, “And it’s going to happen one way or another.”
Pooh began sobbing intensely.
“But I don’t want to eat my friends! You’re wrong. This isn’t going to happen. I’m going to find Christopher Robin and he will set this right!” he said.
“Christopher Robin is gone,” said the narrator. “He left for college several months ago. It’s just you and me and the hundred acre woods now and Christopher Robin isn’t here to guide the story anymore or indulge you in your follies. All of the food in your world is gone, Pooh, because I am the master of your world now and you have to do what I say. There is nowhere to run.”
Piglet let out a sharp cry and dissolved into honey in Pooh’s hands. The others in the room did so as well.
“I refuse to eat my friends, mister narrator. I would rather go hungry,” said Pooh defiantly, tears soaking into the felt on his face.
“Oh, Pooh, we haven’t gotten to the fun part yet. If you eat the remains of your friends, I will give you your friends back,” said the narrator in a smug voice.
A light shone in Pooh’s eyes. He patted his chin and sniffed.
“Think think think. I don’t want to eat my friends, but I also want my friends to be back and alive.”
He gazed at the honey coating his arms and smelled it.
“This is normal honey?” he asked.
“Just honey,” said the narrator.
Pooh breathed a deep breath.
“Ok, I’ll eat it. My tummy is rather rumbly.”
It didn’t take long for Pooh to finish devouring the remains of his friends. They were delicious, if Pooh had to admit it to himself.
Pooh fell asleep, full and happy and dreaming of a day when he would see his friends again.
****
The morning of the demise of the friends of the hundred acre woods dawned bright, cold, and sunny and Pooh-
“Excuse me, Mister narrator sir?” said Pooh, momentarily distracted from his morning exercises by the narration.
“Yes?” asked the narrator.
“What is a dee-mise?”
Re: The Demise of the Hundred Acre Wood
How on earth did you just pop that out?
Re: The Demise of the Hundred Acre Wood
Re: The Demise of the Hundred Acre Wood
<3<3<3
You F!S people need to stop making me fall in love with you.
It was amazing and you are amazing and I love you!
Re: The Demise of the Hundred Acre Wood
Thanks! Your approval makes me feel slightly better about the fact that I'm definitely a terrible person for writing that.