It's tea-time. Pooh and Piglet are in Christopher Robin's kitchen. Pooh says,
'I say Piglet, there's nothing to eat and my tummy's rumbling.'
'Didn't Christopher Robin do your plate of honey sandwiches?'
'No Piglet, you deformed pink fool, there's just an empty plate. Oh, just a jiffy! Here's a note: it says,
"There's no more bread and there's no more honey
Tough luck teddy, cos we're out of money."
'That's good Pooh. It rhymes! I like a nice rhyming couplet.'
'You can't eat it, stupid. I'm starving.'
'We could go and ask Eye-Ore. He knows everything.'
'No way. I'm not talking to that manic depressive mule.'
'Why don't we go down to Hundred Acre Wood and find our friends the bees? They'll give us some honey.'
'That's the best idea you've had since you learned how to hold an apple in your mouth and not eat it, you chipolata. Bring my honey pot. Let's go.'
The sun is shining and the birds are singing, tra la la la lah! Pooh and Piglet skip down to Hundred Acre Wood, if it is possible to skip holding a ceramic pot twice your size. They stop. Piglet puts down the pot. He is puffed out. Pooh gasps.
'It's gone! It's not there! Hundred Acre Wood has gone!'
'Hundred Acre Stumps, more like.'
'But Piglet! My wood! My honey! Where will the bees go? There'll be no more honey! Who chopped down the wood?'
'Christopher Robin, probably. He said he was going to.'
'Christopher Robin? How could he? I thought he was my friend. He never even asked...I'm going to give him a piece of my mind...' Pooh stomps off, muttering to himself. Piglet abandons the honey pot and tries to keep up. He's grumpy because he's hungry too.
'Well don't complain to me you fat furry moron. I didn't vote for the bastard.'