Winnie the Pooh Goes to Glastonbury

The animals were standing with Pooh in a long line of wet and bedraggled beings queuing to get into the festival.

“When I said I’d rather be boiled in oil than go to Glastonbury”, complained Piglet, “I didn’t expect you to start heating up the chip pan on the Aga”.

“Lighten up, Piglet”, said Pooh,”Get with the programme; we are bang on trend, getting jiggy with the zeitgeist. Start widdling out of the tent”.

“That bloke doesn’t seem to have got the message”, said Eeyore gloomily, pointing his hoof at an inebriated festivaller who had clearly mistaken the signs to the ablutions and was peeing into a tent, accompanied by a chorus of shrieks and wails from the occupants.

“Accidents happen”, said Pooh, “They won’t notice the smell after a couple of days.”

Once inside, the animals wandered around, looking at the various items on offer. They watched as a man came out of the ‘Mystic Waxing’ tent, walking gingerly like an arthritic gunfighter in a spaghetti western.

Pooh explained, “Probably had a Back, Sack and C…..”

“Pas devant les enfants!” snapped Kanga, who did not want Roo picking up any more profane phrases.

When it was time for lunch, Pooh went into the ‘Meatless in Seattle’ tent and came out with a Quorn and salad burger. He lifted the stale bun and inspected the small beige object nestling on a sparse bed of dandelion leaves. “Well, at least the salad’s fresh”, said Owl, “I saw him picking it, around the portaloos not five minutes ago”.

Madam Revenant, Going Postal

Piglet was not happy in his festival wellies, “These Hunters chafe something awful”, he complained, “They’re way too high. I shall be the only animal in Hundred Acre Wood with jackboot rash of the nether regions”.

Kanga went to look at the ‘Festival Burqas’ stall. “They’re exactly the same as my rubbish bags” she said indignantly, “only someone’s painted ‘Glasto 17’ on the front in drippy white paint and poked some eye holes in the top!”

Tigger had bounded off to the nearest music stage. “There’s a couple of blokes called Bono and Geldof doing a benefit concert,” he said, “they have these magnets on zipwires passing across the audience, collecting any loose change or valuable items. All donations to their benefit, less an administrative charge”

“Obvs”, said Pooh, “It’s not cheap being the Conscience of the Left, you know”.

When it was time to go, the animals looked at the acres of discarded tents, prolapsed folding chairs and mounds of plastic rubbish. “Mother Earth’s had a bit of a working over,” observed Eeyore, “It’s going to take more than a couple of recycling bins and some choruses by Lily Allen to sort this out”.

The animals joined the long line of wet, bedraggled and muddy beings queuing to get out.

Madam Revenant, Going Postal
 

© Madam Revenant 2018
 

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