Read the previous entry here.

I grabbed Jenny’s hand and ran for cover: she pulled away, running in a different direction and hid behind a large stone pillar that was wide enough to hide her and myself. I ducked behind a much smaller pillar that could barely hide me as I felt bullets fly between us. I heard screams and shouts as I briefly covered my head and emitted my own scream.

I heard gurgling sounds and turned to look at the source: Winnie the Pooh’s teddy bear women were flinging themselves at Winnie Pooh to stand between their lover and the gun and were being mercilessly gunned down. Winnie the Pooh moved, seemingly in slow motion by flipping his bed over, covering himself with it and moving forward as quickly as possible. Which given the circumstances was simply not fast enough.

Robocop moved towards Winnie Pooh who pulled a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, held the grenade (I watched him count “one, two”) and then threw it, timing it perfectly: it exploded just in front of Robocop, knocking him back and blowing limbs off his robotic body. The acrobats performing above plummeted to the ground as they lost their concentration. They splatted roughly against the floor.

Winnie Pooh moved towards the slowly moving bed and kicked it over. Winnie THE Pooh stared up at him, eyes still glass from the “honey” running through his veins.

“Cousin…” he said, paws held up.

“No cousin,” said his Russian counterpart, pumping him full of lead. Stuffing, limbs and “fluff” flew through the air, signaling the end of Winnie The Pooh.

Russian Pooh stopped shooting and the room exploded into silence. I turned and looked at Jenny: she furiously puffed on a cigarette and shook her head, peeking over at the dead body of Pooh and then back up at his assassin. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“You people!” shouted Pooh, “I have rescue you! Come come!”

It took me a moment to realize he meant Jenny and I. I said nothing nor moved an inch. A table blocked his view of me and Jenny was safely out of sight.

I heard a loud sigh.

“Look,” he said, “the people here are no good. Do not mourn for them. They take people. Good people. Make them bad. My cousin was good. Once. Now he’s a honey head. Now he’s dead…” Pooh trailed off. His English seemed to get slightly better as he talked. Perhaps it had been awhile since he spoke it.

“In Motherland!” he shouted in a near roar, “Pooh and I…grow up arm in arm. Paw in paw. Eat real honey. He come here. Addicted. Women bears all around. I shoot everybody in the other room…to come for you…”

Something wasn’t adding up: how did he know we were here? Why had he come for us? What did he care? I kept my mouth shut.

“Probably you don’t know why I come,” he said, “and this is why you stay quiet. I have inside contact. She is still alive, I left her okay. She did not go bad with the changes. She said new people come in and they go to Pooh. So I knew I had to come…so I shot them all, every one of them.”

“Is…is that all of them?” says Jenny and my heart drops. Was she believing this gibberish?

Pooh turns towards her voice but doesn’t open fire.

“No this is but…a small part. Pooh was…small potato…just someone for fun. For gas you see? He run this whole thing. And all the people here…they were no good. You must know this. I kill nobody who wasn’t bad.”

Jenny stands up and I nearly faint.

“I believe you,” she says. “There was something just off about this place. Something I couldn’t stand.”

Pooh nods as she walks over to him.

“It’s all the bad things the imaginary…it’s all stuff in the head that people think up. It is hard to explain but a guy some thing or somebody some force or something make it change to bad. So much of it all is bad now. Only a little bit still good. I still good. A bunch of us still good. But even my cousin…he could not resist…” A sadness in his voice convinces me of the legitimacy of the situation. I stand up.

Pooh jerks his gun towards me and pulls the trigger. The barrel spins in its place. I gasp.

“That wasn’t funny,” I said.

“Not funny,” he says, “lucky. Out of bullets.”

“You were really going to shoot me?”

“First rule: announce yourself before showing yourself. So many bad things happen that way…”

I look at Jenny: she’s smiling a bit too wide for my liking.

“He scared the SHIT out of you,” she taunts.

“Would have you, too.”

“Of course. But you should have seen your face.” She laughs really hard. Pooh joins in. I do not.

Pooh walks around the scene surveying the dead bodies. He shakes his head and sighs: I watch a few tears roll down his furry face as he stands above the carnage, the pain and suffering he inflicted on those who he considered his enemies.

I have to concur though: I was rather glad he had taken them out as they were likely to do things to Jenny and myself which were unfathomable to consider. It was a case of…not exactly appreciating the pain and suffering of others. But knowing when your own personal safety and comfort was more important than moralistic blathering after the fact.

Pooh looks down and sees some blood splattered on his vest. He takes out a rag and wipes as much of it off as he can and then throws the rag on the ground. He cries for a few more seconds before he stops.

“Are you okay?” says Jenny.

“Is hard…to shoot friends…”

“Tell me about it,” she says, apropos of who knows what.

“Well, now what?” I say.

Pooh looks towards the big heavy doors that lead outside. He sighs a huge say and turns back to look at us.

“By now, more should be in there. To get us. They wait. We won’t let wait no more.” He kicks open the door and thousands of incredibly freakish creatures stand in the room where the carnival once raged. They look mutated: green, long necks, sharp teeth, diamond sharp (near as I can tell) claws. They all turn to look at us. Pooh screams, drops his guns and unsheathes the two long swords crisscrossed together along his back.

“We ready to fight or die NOW!”

I’m so not ready for this.