Winnie the Pooh and the Virus of Doom

Madam Revenant, Going Postal
Rabies virus
“Rabies virus” by Sanofi Pasteur is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 

As it was a bright and sunny day in 100 Acre Wood, Piglet decided that he’d call on Pooh to see how he was getting on. Skipping into the dell in front of Pooh’s usual haunt, he was somewhat discombobulated to see Pooh wrapped in what looked suspiciously like a shroud, ringing a bell and murmuring “unclean, unclean”, rocking back and forth.

“Er, Pooh, old chap, what’s with the Leper-u-Like thing? A bit disconcerting, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“We’re all doomed,” moaned Pooh, “I’ve been watching the BBC and we’re all going to die horribly.  There’s this virus thingy and it’s going to wipe out the planet because we didn’t listen to Greta.”

“Ah well, there’s your first mistake,” said Piglet, “Listening to the BBC?  What did Christopher Robin tell you about that?”

“He said they were a bunch of deluded raving lefties who had a stranglehold on the national broadcaster and were only interested in turning us into a bunch of gender-free zombies, while our licence fees keep them in marching powder and quinoa, ” said Pooh. “And then Nanny gave him a clip around the ear when he offered his opinion that cutting off their effing privileges along with their breeding equipment would be doing the nation a favour.”

“Growing up fast, isn’t he?” said Piglet. “But what makes you think you have this infection?”

“Well, I’ve got this streaming nose and my eyes itch, and I keep sneezing,” said Pooh, miserably.

“And this would have nothing at all to do with the hay fever that you always get at this time of year would it?  What’s that tree with the catkins in flower over there?”

“Goat willow,” said Pooh, in a tiny voice.

“That you’re allergic to,” said Piglet.

“Yes,” said Pooh.

“And I suppose that Greta has been Little Miss Armageddon, blaming all this on our predilection for wanting warm homes, a reliable means of transport and the occasional visit to the F1 races?”

“Well she said she’s become like a caterpillar in its chrysalis and when she comes out she will be Gaia, earth goddess and mega-guru, so Donald Trump can do one and swivel, if the virus doesn’t get him first,” replied Pooh.

“Makes a change from telling us that our houses are on fire,” said Piglet, “Although I detect the influence of Mummy Doom Goblin, who has realised that a 17 year-old is heading out of the cute zone at warp speed and needs a quick re-invention and new story line before the sponsorship dries up along with the last shreds of her credibility. Listen, Pooh, this virus is flu with delusions of grandeur. How about you take off that thing and come for a walk? You can keep your distance, if you want.”

“No, I’d rather walk by your side,” said Pooh, “Can I keep the bell though?”

“If you must,” said Piglet.

© Madam Revenant 2020

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