Work Text:
A Battle of the Planets / Winnie-the-Pooh crossover fanfiction
(Literate I may be, I never said anything about being sane.)
Disclaimer:
Gatchaman, its characters and concepts are the property of Tatsunoko Productions; Battle of the Planets, its characters and concepts are the property of Sandy Frank; Winnie-the-Pooh, characters and concepts, text and illustrations copyright (c) 1926 under the Berne Convention, AA Milne and EH Shepherd, respectively. Exerpts from WINNIE-THE-POOH The Complete Collection of Stories and Poems, published by Methuen Children's Books Limited. Copyright (c) 1994 by the Trustees of the Pooh Properties.
This is a work of fan fiction. No income, commerce, profit, hire or reward is being generated by the writer. No infringement of copyright intended.
All right, now we've got that over with...
Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday, Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself...
"I say," Pooh said to himself, since there was nobody else about to whom he might say, "I say," so he was more or less obliged to say it to himself, "I do believe it may be time for a little smackerel of something."
He looked up at his clock, which had stopped at five minutes to eleven some weeks ago.
"Nearly eleven o'clock," said Pooh happily. "Yes, definitely time for a little smackerel of something."
So Pooh rummaged about in the cupboard for something, happily humming one of his little songs -- probably the one that goes, tiddely pom a lot, but it was, as I say, a very long time ago, now, and my memory isn't what it used to be. He found a tin of condensed milk, which he liked very much, and a pot of honey, which he also liked very much, spent a moment trying to decide which he ought to have, and eventually came to the conclusion that a Bear ought to treat everyone the same, so he had both.
About a half an hour later (and the clock still showed five minutes to eleven, but Pooh was rather diplomatic about these things) Pooh was licking the last of the honey and the condensed milk off his paws when he heard The Noise.
The Noise was a terrible banging and crashing and shrieking -- worse than dropping a tea tray with a full teapot on it. And when Pooh stood up to peer through the trees, he saw a dark plume of smoke rising up from the direction of the Hundred Acre Wood.
"Well, well," Pooh muttered to nobody in particular, which, as previously mentioned, was one of very few options available, since Nobody in Particular -- with the notable exception of Pooh himself -- was about.
Pooh scratched his head in a thoughtful manner, then did it again.
It didn't trigger much in the way of thought, so Pooh gave it another try.
While he was doing this, he heard another Noise.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud! And with it, the sound of someone breathing hard, as though they were running a race, and possibly even winning.
And then, Pooh was no longer alone, or sharing his clearing with Nobody in Particular, because Somebody in Particular -- a very peculiar Somebody -- had arrived in it.
Breath coming in short gasps, Zoltar glanced around wildly, saw Pooh, and glanced around wildly again in the hope of not seeing Pooh, this time.
"You!" One purple-clad finger shot out to point, quivering only slightly, at Pooh Bear. "Hide me!"
Pooh gazed thoughtfully at Zoltar. This was clearly a Very Strange Person, possibly an animal, possibly not. Pooh had never seen a Spectran before, let alone a Spectran wearing an outlandish purple and red costume. He decided that whoever -- or whatever -- his visitor was, he was not merely a Very Strange Person, he was a Peculiar Purple Person.
"I say," said Pooh, to Zoltar, now that he didn't have to say, "I say," to himself or to Nobody in Particular, "you've just missed having a little smackerel of something, but one ought to be hospitable, and I don't see why we couldn't go in and have another one, together, if you like, Mister... ah..?" Pooh smiled slightly in the hope of prompting the Peculiar Purple Person to introduce himself.
"My name is unimportant," Zoltar rasped, and cringed, ducking close to Pooh's doorway as a Very Noisy Flying Machine, all tricked out in red and blue livery, roared overhead.
"Ah," said Pooh, beaming widely at his guest. "I am Winnie-the-Pooh, but my friends call me Pooh. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Unimportant. Do come in."
Unimportant the Peculiar Purple Person was also a Very Tall Peculiar Purple Person, and had to bend very low to get in through the door of Pooh's house. Inside, he rather appeared to unfold himself, and sat uncomfortably in the armchair by the fireplace, over which the clock still showed five to eleven.
"Is that the time?" Zoltar said in alarm.
"Only twice a day, really," Pooh said blithely. "We're all out of condensed milk, I'm afraid, but there's some honey left. I say, would you like to hear a hum?"
"A what?" Zoltar demanded, rather waspishly (which just goes to show that on Spectra, they have just as many bad-mannered people as we do here.)
"A hum, " Pooh said again. "It's really an Outdoor Hum, but one could well hum it Indoors also..."
"A hum," Zoltar repeated, listening to the sound of the Phoenix's engines growing fainter in the distance.
Pooh took this to be an agreement, so he struck a pose and began:
"The more it snows
(Tiddely pom),
The more it goes
(Tiddely pom),
The more it goes
(Tiddely pom),
On snowing."
"Um," said Zoltar.
"And nobody knows," continued Pooh,
(Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes
(Tiddely pom),"
"Er," said Zoltar.
"How cold my toes
(Tiddely pom),
Are growing."
"Was that it?" asked Zoltar after a minute.
"Oh, yes," said Pooh, and waited for Unimportant the Very Tall Peculiar Purple Person to say what an awfully good hum it was, even if it were really an Outdoor Hum sung indoors.
"Great Spirit," muttered Zoltar, "save me!"
"W - O - L" read the nameplate above the door set into the trunk of a tree. Under the nameplate, the door was open, and the Gentleman of the House was standing in the doorway.
Tiny Harper stared at Owl, and Owl stared back.
"Cousin Murgatroyd?" ventured Owl, "is that you?"
"You can talk!" Tiny exclaimed.
Owl blinked, feeling slightly affronted. He sniffed slightly.
"I can not only speak," Owl corrected, er... owlishly... "I can spell 'Tuesday.'"
"Oh... er... ah," said Tiny, quite out of his depth.
"And I believe I was mistaken," Owl continued. "You aren't my cousin Murgatroyd at all."
"I'm with G-Force," Tiny said, drawing himself up. "We're looking for Zoltar."
"And what, pray," Owl inquired, "is a Zoltar? Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"Um, good question," Tiny quipped. "Zoltar's a Spectran, y'know?"
"Clearly not," Owl sighed, "or one wouldn't need to ask."
"Oh... Zoltar's a guy." Tiny held up a hand. "About, so high, wearing purple, big cape, a mask with pointy ears..."
"No," said Owl. "I'm afraid not."
"Not what?"
"Not 'what'," said Owl. "Whom."
"Whom not what?" asked Tiny
"Oh, dear," sighed Owl.
"I'm confused," Tiny admitted.
"Obviously," said Owl. "I haven't seen this Zoltar person," he expanded, pupils contracting in annoyance. "Why don't you ask Rabbit? Rabbit gets out and about rather a lot."
"Rabbit?" Tiny echoed.
"About so high," Owl extended one wing. "Wearing fur, has his own rather longish ears."
"You mean... an actual... rabbit."
"My dear chap," Owl said sternly, "to what else could I conceivably refer?" And with that, his feathers somewhat ruffled, Owl marched back into his house, and closed the door behind him.
"Well, there you are," said a melancholy voice, and Tiny spun around to find himself staring at Eeyore, the old grey donkey. "There's those that do, and those that don't. We're all better off minding our own business, if you ask me, but you didn't, did you?"
"Didn't what?" Tiny asked, getting a hazy impression that he was going in conversational circles.
"Ask me," sighed the donkey.
"I just did!" Tiny exclaimed helplessly, his head spinning.
"Never mind," the donkey intoned, and very slowly, dragging his feet as though carrying the weight of the world on his swayed back, turned and began to walk away.
"Wait!" cried Tiny.
"I don't know," said the donkey in a sepulchral tone. "I don't have a set of scales. I believe it's mass by gravity, if you know both of those, you can calculate weight."
"Excuse me?" Tiny began, struggling for coherent thought.
"Why?" the donkey asked. "Have you done something to offend me? Or are you about to? It wouldn't surprise me in the least."
"Could you please tell me where I can find Rabbit?" Tiny asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
"Try the rabbit hole," the donkey suggested, with perfect logic. "Dear me," it grumbled as it walked away, "no sense, some people, no sense at all..."
"A-reet-doot! Kangaroo!" Keyop exclaimed in pure delight.
"Kanga's my Mum!" Roo corrected, bouncing up to the strangers. "I'm Roo! I can jump! Want to play jumping with me?"
The joey bounded across the grass and leapt high to land in a sandy pit, where he bounced up and down as though on springs. Keyop giggled and leapt into the sand beside his new friend.
"Keyop!" Princess called. "Stop that!"
"Good morning," said a soft voice behind her, and Princess spun, one hand going to her belt to grasp her yo-yo.
"Oh!" Princess gasped, confronted with a doe-eyed creature wearing a maternal smile.
"I see the boys appear to have met. I'm Kanga. I must say, I didn't know birds liked to play jumping games."
"Oh, we're not -- " Princess began, then thought better of it. "I hope you don't mind my little brother playing with your... son?"
"Look at me jumping!" squealed Roo, and fell over.
Keyop hurried to help Roo right himself, and the game was on again.
"They seem to be indulging in harmless fun," Kanga opined, keeping one cautious eye on the youngsters. "I don't believe I caught your name," she added pointedly.
"Oh," Princess blushed, realising her lack of courtesy. "G-3."
"Jeethree?" Kanga echoed, and blinked. "What an... unusual name."
"And that's my brother, G-4."
"Charmed," Kanga said kindly. " Would you like some tea?"
"Thank you for asking," Princess said solemnly, remembering the last disastrous time someone had asked her and Keyop to tea, "but no. We really must be going. My brother and I are looking for someone."
"Oh?" Kanga smiled politely. "Anyone in particular?"
"A tall man, wearing a purple cape and a mask with long pointed ears. His name is Zoltar. He's very dangerous."
"Then I should think you'd rather not want to find him, surely," Kanga reasoned.
"We have to capture him, and take him back with us," Princess explained.
"I say!" Kanga remarked, impressed. "You must be frightfully brave!"
"It's our job. If you see Zoltar, keep out of his way," Princess warned.
"I'm sure I shall," Kanga said. "Roo, dear! Come inside, now, quickly!"
"Keyop!" Princess called sharply. "Come on. Zoltar isn't going to wait for us!"
Reluctantly, Roo and Keyop ceased their bouncing and each trailed back to his respective guardian.
"If you please, sir," said Piglet, "I'm really a Very Small Animal."
Jason returned his gun to its holster and let out his breath.
"I almost stepped on you!" he said irritably.
"And I'm glad it was only an Almost Stepped On," Piglet added, "I should far prefer being Almost Stepped On to being Actually Stepped On, though really I should prefer neither."
Jason crouched down to peer at the Very Small Animal he had Almost Stepped On.
"What exactly," he asked, "are you?"
"I'm Piglet," said Piglet, "a Very Small Animal."
"So I see," Jason agreed, smiling despite himself.
"Whereas you," Piglet observed, "appear to be One of the Fiercer Animals. I do hope you're not Fierce With Pigs."
"I guess I am One of the Fiercer Animals," Jason chuckled, "but don't worry, little guy, I'm not Fierce With Pigs, especially not Very Small Pigs. In fact, I was kinda wondering if you could help me out."
"Me?" Piglet breathed, suddenly all overcome. A Fierce Animal -- a Large Fierce Animal -- needed his help!
"You," Jason affirmed.
"Oh, I say!" Piglet sighed, quite transported.
Bounce!
"I'm looking -- "
Bounce!
"For a man -- "
Bounce!
"Excuse me --"
Bounce!
"Hey!"
Bounce!
"Do you think -- "
Bounce!
"You could stop that --"
Bounce!
"For just a moment?"
Tigger came to a stop and peered up at the G-Force Commander.
"Why?" he asked, and resumed his bouncing.
Mark lunged, and grabbed the boisterous animal.
"Oooooooooh! Wrestling!" Tigger cried in delight, and began to wriggle. "Tiggers loves to wrestle!"
"Will you please hold still!" Mark cried, and gave the impossible creature a shake.
Tigger froze, and gazed wide-eyed at his captor.
"Don't you like Tiggers?" he asked.
"I... I'm sure I like Tiggers when they behave," Mark qualified, glaring through his visor at... whatever it was he was holding.
"But this is how Tiggers behave," Tigger reasoned, squirming free.
"Be still!" Mark warned, holding up one finger before Tigger could start bouncing again.
"Do you have any Extract of Malt?" Tigger asked wistfully. "Tiggers likes Extract of Malt."
"No," Mark said, putting a good amount of authority into his voice. "I don't have any Extract of Malt. What I have," he told the strange animal, "are questions."
"Ooooohhh! Tiggers loves questions!" Tigger bounced a couple of times, then remembered that the Strange Big White Bird didn't seem to like bouncing, and stopped. "As long as it's not spelling," Tigger warned. "Spelling is what Owl is good at. Tiggers don't like spelling. Or sums... or jograffy." A manic grin blossomed on the creature's face. "Tiggers likes bouncing!" And he bounced, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down...
Mark turned to walk away and tripped over something large and grey.
"Oh, don't mind me," said the Something Large and Grey as Mark lay flat on his face in the undergrowth. "And don't feel bad about falling into my lunch, now, that's of no consequence at all. No reason to have any regrets about falling headfirst into somebody else's lunch, now, is there?"
"Aaagh!" Mark sputtered. "Thistles!"
"Oh, yes," said the Something Large and Grey in a world-weary tone, "thistles. If you don't like them, best fall into them and crush them, don't worry about leaving them for anyone who might appreciate them, oh, no."
Mark sat up, shook out his cape wings, and identified the grey shape as a donkey.
"Whatever you do," he pleaded, "don't start bouncing."
"Happy to oblige," the donkey said mournfully. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable in my lunch? I'm sure I won't mind at all. As long as you're quite settled, that's all that matters, naturally."
Zoltar started at the knock on the door. He reached for his sidearm, ready to attack.
"Pooh!" called a voice. "Are you in?"
"I'll just check!" Pooh called back, and looked around the room. "Yes," he decided, "I am." And opened the door to admit Rabbit.
"Oh," said Rabbit, "you have company."
"Yes," said Pooh, feeling rather pleased with himself. It wasn't everyone got a Very Tall Peculiar Purple Person stopping by for tea. "Rabbit, I'd like you to meet my guest. His name is Unimportant."
"How do you do?" Rabbit said, extending one paw. "I am Rabbit. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Unimportant -- or is it Unimportant Esquire?" he asked, twitching a whisker.
Zoltar considered shooting the pair of them then and there, but gunfire might bring G-Force, so he quashed the impulse and shook hands -- er, paws -- with Rabbit.
"I was just getting us a little smackerel of something," Pooh explained, and fetched bread and honey out of the pantry.
"Ah, don't mind if I do," Rabbit said amiably, and sat down at the kitchen table. He looked Unimportant up and down. "Are you staying in the Forest, Mister Unimportant?" he asked, folding his paws neatly in front of his chest.
"Not for long," Zoltar snarled.
"Ah. Just as well," Rabbit said, deciding that Unimportant wasn't a Terribly Nice Person. "Not a lot of room in the forest, these days," he added diplomatically.
"I was humming Mister Unimportant a hum," Pooh announced. "It was an Outdoor Hum, really, and we were indoors, but it seemed to work. I shall compose an Indoor Hum, I think."
"Wise," Rabbit said, nodding sagely, "very wise."
"It sounds," Piglet said in a small voice, "like a Very Fierce Animal. Fiercer even than a Jagular, or a Woozle."
"Uh, yeah," Jason agreed.
"Even the name sounds Fierce," Piglet shuddered, his ears twitching nervously. "Zoltar!"
"Yeah." Jason waited for Piglet to calm down somewhat, which took another minute. "So, where do we start looking?"
Feeling very brave, and rather clever, Piglet tried to think of A Place To Start Looking. He thought, and thought, and thought, then he thought some more.
"Perhaps we should ask Owl," Piglet suggested finally. "Owl is terribly clever, and anyone who can spell 'Tuesday' ought to be able to think of A Place To Start Looking For a Zoltar."
"Lead the way, little guy," Jason prompted, and followed as Piglet scampered down the forest path, hoping that none of his colleagues were watching, and trying to think of a convincing reason as to why he was following a talking pig through the forest to go and talk with an Owl who could spell 'Tuesday.'
He didn't come up with one, other than that he couldn't think of anything better to do.
Piglet closed his eyes as Jason took the short cut to Owl's front door by the relatively simple expedient of leaping from the ground up. The reason Piglet felt it necessary to close his eyes was that he -- Piglet -- was being held in the crook of Jason's left arm, and thus also traversing what looked to a Very Small Animal like a Very Big Leap.
Jason bent, deposited Piglet on the doorstep, and rapped at the door. He was not in the least surprised to see an honest-to-goodness owl open the door and peer out at them.
"Hallo, Owl," Piglet said. "I've brought a friend to meet you."
"So I see," said Owl, looking all the way from the toes of Jason's boots to the crest of his helmet. "Another large creature who isn't my cousin Murgatroyd."
Jason tried to make sense of Owl's comment, failed utterly, and decided to ignore it.
"G-2," he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise, my dear chap," Owl said. "I'd ask you in, you understand, but I fear the quarters might be somewhat cramped."
"No problem," Jason replied. "Piglet here thought you might be able to think of a place where someone I'm looking for might be hiding."
"Not a tall chap wearing purple with a cloak and a mask with big pointy ears?" Owl inferred.
"Yeah! That's him! Where did you see him?" Jason's trigger finger twitched. He was going to give Zoltar what-for this time, especially for landing his escape craft in a crazy forest full of talking critters.
"I haven't," Owl confessed, "only you're the second person today to come looking for this rather odd-sounding purple person."
"The second?" Jason frowned.
"Yes," Owl expanded, "the first was a rather large green bird who said he was with... ah... G-Force, yes, that was it. Easily confused, didn't make a lot of sense."
"Tiny," Jason muttered.
"Oh, not in the least," Owl refuted enthusiastically. "He was extremely large."
"Okay." Jason accepted this with equanimity. "Where did you tell him to look?"
"I suggested he speak with Rabbit," Owl recounted. "This is beginning to sound like it could be a Serious Matter," he mused.
"Trust me," Jason told the bird, "it is."
"Can you help, Owl?" Piglet piped, trying to sound persuasive.
"I suppose I could," Owl agreed. "I shall fly over the forest and see what I can see."
"And in the meantime," Jason decided, "you and I, Piglet, can go see this Rabbit guy."
On hands and knees, Zoltar peeped out through Pooh's front door.
The coast, such as it was, appeared to be clear.
"I say, Pooh," Rabbit remarked, one paw on his chin, "I do hope this Unimportant chap isn't going to get stuck in your doorway the way you did in mine."
"I shouldn't think he will, Rabbit," Pooh said thoughtfully, "he hasn't eaten a thing in all the time he's been here." Pooh sighed. "I had to eat his share of the honey."
"Ah," said Rabbit, "I see."
"A little consideration," Eeyore continued, "is just too much to ask of some people."
Mark was extracting the last of the thistles from his uniform, and sat listening to Eeyore's lecture while the donkey consumed what was left of the spiky plant, grumbling all the while.
"Mark?"
The Eagle turned to see Princess approaching, and scrambled to his feet.
"Uh, Princess, I was just, ah..."
"Just falling on my lunch," Eeyore explained morosely.
"Hello, there," Princess greeted the donkey with a smile. She reached out and picked a bit of thistle off Mark's shoulder. "Falling on his lunch?"
"Long story," Mark evaded.
"Root-toot-toot! A donkey!" Keyop burbled happily, and rushed over to Eeyore, who took a surprised step backward.
"Nice to see that you can state the obvious," Eeyore said, looking Keyop up and down dubiously. "Quite a talent, that, stating the obvious. Not that it isn't redundant or anything like that, I must say I do appreciate being told that I'm a donkey. After all, there I am, getting up every morning and wondering what kind of animal I am. Thank you very much for clearing that up. You have my undying gratitude, I'm sure."
Eeyore turned and stalked away.
"This place!" Mark looked around, and experienced a huge sense of relief when no more talking animals assailed his tottering sense of sanity. "I just hope Zoltar's having as rough a time as I am!"
The mission was important, Tiny knew that.
Zoltar's escape ship had been downed and the alien was on the run, hiding somewhere in this very forest, Tiny knew that.
The mulberry tree was bearing ripe, sweet fruit, bursting with juice and flavour, Tiny knew that.
And right now, the mulberries had a far more urgent appeal than did Zoltar.
Piglet pulled up short with a small gasp, and scuttled behind Jason's leg, peering out from behind G-2’s ankle.
"Is that... is that... is that.... " he tried to complete his sentence, but his fright had him stammering. "Oh, dear!" he breathed, "is that -- a heffalump?"
Jason regarded the large green shape that browsed busily on the mulberries, and considered.
"It may look like one from here," he confided, "but no, that's not a heffalump. That's G-5. Hey! Tiny!"
"J's'n?" Tiny mumbled around a mouthful of mulberries. "Mmph, th'r y 're." He swallowed, and attempted to wipe some of the purple juice from around his mouth. "I can't find any sign of the big 'Z' anywhere."
"I guess he's not hiding in the mulberry tree," Jason observed, arms folded.
"Pardon me," Piglet whispered, "but is the jeefive also One Of The Fiercer Animals? And is it Fond of Pigs?"
"Don't worry about Tiny," Jason assured his height-challenged companion, "he wouldn't hurt a fly."
Which was all very well for flies, Piglet reasoned, but what about pigs?
"Hey," Tiny had noticed the little creature at Jason's feet, and moved forward. Piglet cowered behind the gunner's boot. "Don't be shy," Tiny coaxed. "I won't hurt you."
"Really? Truly?" Piglet ventured.
"Really."
Feeling much braver, Piglet trotted out from behind Jason. "Are we all going to Rabbit's house together, then?" he asked.
"Lead the way," Jason told him, and so, feeling terribly important, having fallen in with Two of The Fiercer Animals, who both seemed to be Fond of Pigs, Piglet marched down the path with his little chest puffed out and his snout held high.
Rabbit was not at home.
"All right, then," said Piglet, feeling Brave and Masterful, "we shall call on Pooh."
"Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
'Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,'" sang Pooh.
Zoltar buried his face in his hands.
"Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
'Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie.'"
Clearly, it was time to make a break for freedom. Anything was better than this.
And so, with the Bear of Very Little Brain in full voice, and Rabbit in rapt attention, Zoltar began to unfold himself from the armchair.
"Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken, I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
'Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie.'"
"That was very good, Pooh," Rabbit said. "What did you think of that, Mister Unimportant?" Rabbit looked around to glean Zoltar's opinion, but the Very Tall Peculiar Purple Person was gone. "Well, really!" Rabbit sniffed. "Some people have no manners!"
An owl flew overhead and landed on a nearby branch.
"Good afternoon!" it said.
"Hello," Princess greeted it. "Mister Owl, I don't suppose you've seen a tall man in a purple cloak and a mask with big pointed ears?"
"Goodness me, he must be popular!" Owl remarked. "No, I was about to ask you the same question. Are you with the large green person and the tall blue-and-bronze person?"
"Yes, we are," Princess affirmed. "Have you seen them?"
"I've just come from them," Owl explained, settling and puffing himself out. "They've gone to see Rabbit."
"Rabbits as well?" Mark muttered darkly. "What next, the Mad Hatter's Tea Party?"
"Don't push your luck, Commander," Princess muttered back. Aloud, she addressed Owl. "Could you please show us where they went?"
"Of course," Owl said. "Follow me."
They took to the trees, gliding from branch to branch as Owl led them through the forest.
"Arrr-itt-prrip! Way cool!" Keyop declared.
"I'm glad someone's enjoying themselves," Mark said, and Princess thought he sounded like Eeyore.
"There! Up ahead!" Owl called out, and the four of them swooped downward, Owl landing on a branch, the others alighting on the ground near Jason, Tiny, and a Very Small Animal.
"Glad you could join us," Jason quipped.
"Oh, my goodness!" Piglet gasped, so overcome he thought he might well have to run straight home and go to bed for a bit of a rest.
"Commander, meet our guide and ally, Piglet," Jason made the introductions. "Piglet, this is the Commander of G-Force, with G-3 and G-4."
"Ch-charmed," stammered Piglet.
"Don't worry," Jason assured him, "they're all Fond of Pigs."
Mark glanced sharply at Jason with the intention of asking exactly how his second-in-command had come to the conclusion that his teammates were Fond of Pigs, but as the Very Small Animal appeared to settle down and they really needed to be getting a hold of Zoltar and leaving -- the sooner the better -- he changed his mind and decided to simply include a small annotation in the debriefing notes about his lack of any actual affection, so to speak, for barn animals of any persuasion whatsoever.
"Have you found any sign of Zoltar?" Mark asked.
"There seems to be a trail," Tiny explained, pointing to a single footprint in a small sandy patch.
"And it's heading," Piglet added, emboldened by Jason's promise that all these Very Fierce Bird People were in fact Fond of Pigs, "towards Pooh's house!"
"Let's move!" Mark declared, and made to race off into the forest.
"Ah, Commander," Jason called, "it's this way."
"I think," Rabbit said, "that we should go and ask Christopher Robin about it."
"I do believe you're right, Rabbit," Pooh agreed. "If anyone would know about Very Tall Peculiar Purple People Whose Names Are Unimportant, it's Christopher Robin."
At this point, however, Something Happened Next.
Zoltar was lost.
There was no getting around it, he was definitely lost.
In a forest.
With talking animals. Talking animals that sang songs.
And G-Force.
Zoltar wasn't sure which was worse.
"Admiring the scenery?" said a gloomy voice.
Zoltar spun around in a panic.
"Don't see anything much in it, myself," Eeyore continued, "but there's no accounting for taste. Enjoy it while you may. I imagine it will rain tomorrow. Perhaps even later today. Just because it's fine now doesn't mean anything."
"Do you know how to get out of here?" Zoltar demanded.
"Out of here? Why would I want to do that?" Eeyore reasoned. "There's no reason to think that anywhere else might be any better than here. Not that here's much chop, but I expect that other places are far, far worse."
"Look -- " began Zoltar.
"Oh, I am," Eeyore assured him, "I am. Looking, watching, observing... And it never gets any better, does it? It's all right for some, getting around singing and humming and here-we-go-'round-the-mulberry-bush and all that, all very well if you want to go gadding through life with no sense of perspective."
Eeyore sat down, the better to address the Very Tall Peculiar Purple Person.
Zoltar sighed.
The Something that Happened Next was that five very large and rather fierce looking birds came running into the clearing with none other than Piglet at their head.
"Oh, I say," said Pooh, for whom the number of eligible persons to whom, "I say," might conceivably be said had now increased by several hundred percent.
"It's all right, Pooh!" Piglet called out. "These are my new friends, and they're very fierce, but Fond of Pigs." A thought struck him, and he turned to Jason. "You're not Fierce with Bears, are you?" he asked.
"Or... rabbits?" ventured Rabbit.
"No," Jason said reassuringly, "we're only Fierce with Spectrans, and we're looking for one, right now."
"Some people," Eeyore said, "spend their whole lives off in the Pursuit of Happiness. What sort of a thing is that, now, I ask you? I mean, what's the point? You go off Pursuing Happiness, what do you do with it once you've pursued it to the point where it's all worn out and tired enough that you can catch it? What have you got? A whole lot of worn out happiness, that's what. What good's that to anyone?"
Zoltar sat down on a mossy root and buried his head in his hands.
"Very peculiar," Pooh described his erstwhile visitor. "And tall."
"And purple," added Rabbit.
"And I don't think he likes honey very much," Pooh said thoughtfully, "which isn't such a bad thing," he decided, brightening considerably.
"Which way did he go?" Mark asked, eager to be done with the mission.
"Well, that's the thing," Pooh confessed, "he disappeared right in the middle of Cottleston Pie."
Mark blinked. He wasn't going to ask. It would only cause trouble.
"The end of the second verse," Rabbit speculated, "or perhaps the beginning of the third."
"Or the middle of the end," Pooh suggested helpfully.
"Arrrr-oot-toot! Tracks!" Keyop pointed out, which was far more helpful.
"... Irresponsible, that's what it is," Eeyore's monologue showed no signs of stopping, and Zoltar was curled into the foetal position beside a large buttress root at the base of an ancient tree. "Singing and humming and skipping about like there wasn't a care in the world... Falling into other people's lunches, it isn't like a bit of consideration isn't a lot to ask, I would have thought, but it seems it is."
The sound of rapid footfalls reached Zoltar's ears, and he raised his head.
"No thought before acting," Eeyore continued, "not for a moment!"
G-Force burst into the thicket, weapons at the ready.
"You see what I mean?" Eeyore concluded.
"G-Force!" Zoltar cried. "Save me!"
The Spectran launched himself at Mark, purple-clad fingers clutching at the snowy cape wings as the tall alien sank miserably to his knees.
"Impulse," Eeyore observed, "it'll be the ruination of us all, you mark my words."
"He goes on, and on and ON!" Zoltar sobbed. "Make him stop!"
"Mark?" Princess queried.
"Mark?" Princess' low murmur came from a long way off. "Mark, wake up!"
Mark opened his eyes, blinked groggily, looked around Keyop's room from the chair where he'd slumped.
"What time is it?" he mumbled.
"Almost midnight," Princess said softly. "Keyop's sound asleep, and so were you!"
"Must have dozed off," Mark said sleepily, moving to get up and catching the book as it started to slide off his lap.
"Winnie-the-Pooh?" Princess read the title. "Isn't Keyop a little old for that? Come to think of it, aren't you?"
"He seemed to like it," Mark yawned, and covered his mouth with one hand. "My mother used to read it to me when I was very small. Keyop said he'd never heard of it, so I brought it over to show him."
They tiptoed out into the hall, and Princess closed Keyop's door.
"How was the conference, anyway?" Mark asked.
"Boring," Princess confided. "Chief Anderson came away with a truckload of brochures. Thanks for sitting up with Keyop while I was gone."
"Hey, no problem," Mark replied. "He's a good kid."
Princess switched on the kettle for tea.
"So, did you enjoy your trip down memory lane?" she asked, gesturing towards the book.
"It wasn't quite the same," Mark decided. "I think I'll leave these memories alone for a while."
In the far away Crab Nebula, Zoltar shivered and whimpered in a sudden, chilling nightmare in which a morose grey donkey lectured for hours on end about doom and gloom in a magical forest.