Here is a drama I wrote a few months back, for a creative writing class. Its gotten pretty good reviews, so I thought I'd post it. Please tell me what you think!
The Death of Pooh
Christopher Robin Grows Up
By Tiffany (TAHINAZ)
Scene: The Hundred Acre Wood, from the Winnie the Pooh tales. A small clearing. Mike, a boy of twelve, enters with a blanket slung over his shoulder, containing two BBguns. With him is Christopher Robin, also twelve; significantly older than in the Pooh tales.
Mike: Alright! I got the stuff!
Christopher Robin: Alright! Over here, over here! (Mike lays out the blanket, displaying the BB guns. They both kneel on the ground before them.) Cool! You gonna teach me how to use ‘em?
Mike: (Nodds) And these woods here of yours are perfect for it. Just great! You’re lucky, man!
Christopher Robin: Quiet!
Christopher Robin: Nothing. Lucky, huh!
Mike: What, these woods are yours, right? I mean, dude, there’s nothin’ out there that’s gonna-
Christopher Robin: No, no-
Mike: I mean, that’s the point of BB gunnin’ right though? (Stands) Bring ‘em on! I can take ‘em!
Christopher Robin: No! (Pulls on Mike’s shirt) Get down! (The bushes rustle nearby. Christopher Robin starts. He looks around, frantically.)
Mike: Aw, its probly just somethin’ small. Probly a just chipmunk or something. (Looks down at Christopher Robin) Woah, you ok, Chris?
Christopher Robin: Yeah, uh. (Lowers his voice) Its just that when I was little, I used to like to play with these little stuffed (Pause) stuffed action figures, and they sorta came alive (Pause) I mean, not like real alive- like imaginary friends, ya’ know (Pause) Not real.
Mike: Imaginary friends? Dude-
Christopher Robin: I mean, I don’t do that any more. But these woods (Pause) I don’t know, they’re kind of freaky. Stuff hangs around. That could be- (Christopher Robin stands up, slowly. He takes a step toward the bush, then looks over to Mike. Mike nods toward the bush. Christopher Robin parts the branches and peers in. There, at the bush’s base is Piglet, a pink, pin-stripped, ‘living’ stuffed animal who speaks with a stutter. Christopher Robin bites his lip and hangs his head.)
Piglet: Oh, Christopher Robin! Oh, dear!
Mike: (Jumps back) What the heck?
Christopher Robin: (To Mike) I (Pause) I told you.
Piglet: Oh, dear! Christopher Robin! Where have you been, I was so worried about you! We have looked all over the Hundred Acre Wood, and you never came around!
Christopher Robin: (To Mike) Its not real. Just (Pause) just little kid stuff, not real.
Mike: Dude! I mean, this is freaky! What the heck? (Mike grabs a BB gun and hands one to Christopher Robin. Christopher Robin hesitates, then nods resolutely and accepts the gun. Mike aims his gun. Christopher Robin awkwardly follows suit.)
Mike: (In a husky voice) Your days are numbered, little freak! Charge! (Mike runs toward Piglet. Piglet jumps in surprise and scurries away through the undergrowth. Mike and Christopher Robin pursue him, with their guns cocked. Piglet screams. Mike and Christopher Robin give battle cries as they run. Shots are fired. Some miss; pinging noises are heard. Others hit. Piglet rips and explodes in a puff of fiber-fill. Mike and Christopher Robin keep running, in play, and trample Piglet’s remains under foot. Fade out.)
Scene: A clearing in the Hundred Acre Wood. In the center is a large tree with a wooden swing hanging from one of the branches. Bushes encircle the clearing.
Enter Christopher Robin, now in his late teens, holding hands with Alexis, his girlfriend. They appear to be idly chatting. Christopher Robin leads her over to the swing and sits down. She sits on his lap. They begin to kiss.
Enter Rabbit, an anthropomorphic stuffed bunny. He shifts feet and preens one ear anxiously. He makes no noise. Christopher Robin shifts in his seat mid-kiss, and as he does, he suddenly notices Rabbit watching them.
Christopher Robin: Oh, for gosh sakes!
Alexis: What, Chris? (Christopher Robin leans over, with Alexis still on his lap. He grabs a rock, and Alexis tumbles off.)
Christopher Robin: Get out of here! (Throws rock.)
Rabbit: Christopher Robin, I-
(Christopher Robin throws another couple of rocks. Rabbit ducks one, but the other hits him, and he tumbles comically to the ground.)
Alexis: Chris, I (Pause)I better go. (Turns to go)
Christopher Robin: Alexis, no! (Christopher Robin runs after her a ways, but as she exits, he stops and stomps the ground.)
Rabbit: Christopher Robin! (Stands, uneasily) Tigger was bouncing in my garden once again, and he-
Christopher Robin: (Christopher Robin turns slowly towards Rabbit, his eyes narrowed in anger.) Get out of here, already! Leave me alone!
Rabbit: But I do wish you would say a little something to-
Christopher Robin: (Christopher Robin grabs a large branch from the ground beside him.) I said leave me alone! (Christopher Robin runs headlong after Rabbit. Rabbit jumps in surprise and screams, as Christopher Robin runs after him, wildly swinging the branch. The branch connects and Rabbit is flung towards the camera, screaming. The screen appears to shatter. Fade out.)
Scene: Dusk of the same day. A lazy stream, running through a clearing. A curved footbridge rises over the stream. On the far side of the bridge is a small lean-to made of sticks. On the bank, Christopher Robin sits, sighing and tossing pebbles into the stream. Mike sits near him. A campfire burns before them. Mike is toasting marshmallows.
Mike: Don’t worry about it, man. (Pause. Christopher Robin tosses in a pebble.) I mean, she’s just a girl.
Christopher Robin: A girl, Mike, a real girl. And the little brain fart had to go and scare her off! I was such a dork, as a kid! (Eeyore, a morose stuffed donkey, enters. He saunters silently out of the shadows from the direction of the lean-to.) I mean, look at this, look at this! Look what I’ve filled the whole darned forest full of!
Mike: Aw, its not that bad (Pause) well, no, I’m not gonna lie to ya’, it is that bad, but Chris-
Christopher Robin: I’m the freak, that’s what it is! It was this retarded skull of mine that drove her off!
Eeyore: Don’t mind me, no one else does.
Mike: That’s a promise, fuzz-ball.
Christopher Robin: (Christopher Robin holds his head, as if in agony.)And they won’t leave me alone, after all these years! How many of them did I end up imagining into life, huh? (Pause) Ten? A hundred? The entire contents of a toy store?
Eeyore: (To himself) Been a lot of disappearances, lately. Piglet. Rabbit. Suspect I’ll be next. Not that anyone would miss me.
Christopher Robin: I don’t even remember, that’s how retarded I am!
(Pause. Christopher Robin falls back onto the bank of the stream. Eeyore idly swishes his tail. Mike pops a marshmallow into his mouth and mounts another onto a stick.)
Mike: Don’t be so hard on yourself, man. She’s just a girl.
(Eeyore’s tail falls off. Neither of the boys notice.)
Eeyore: Can’t even keep my tail on. Not that its much of a tail, but I’ve grown attached to it.
Christopher Robin: Its not Alexis. Not just her. What am I supposed to do, tell me that! Move? Yeah, I can just imagine what the new owners would say! (Christopher Robin motions to Eeyore.) ‘Oh my gosh! Possessed toys! Talking fuzz-balls! Deranged manifestations!
Mike: That’s a two-dollar word, man. (Chuckles)
Eeyore: Wouldn’t blame a body for laughing at poor old Eeyore. Not that I feel much like laughing, myself.
Mike: Keep poppin’ ‘em, that’s what I say.
Christopher Robin: Forever?
Eeyore: Don’t suppose I’m no good to no one.
Mike: Geez, if you’re that depressed, why don’t you just pop yourself, already?
Christopher Robin: Wha?
Mike: Not you!
Christopher Robin: Oh. (More cheerfully) Yeah! Hey, ya’ know, jackass, you’ve been bringing me down since I imagined you. Why didn’t you do us both a favor and off yourself ten years ago, huh?
Eeyore: Wouldn’t even miss myself, I sup-
(Mike stands, with his old BBgun in hand. He fires off a shot without warning. Eeyore explodes in a rain of fuzz. Mike calmly sits back down and picks up his roasting stick.)
Mike: (Cheerfully) Marshmallow?
Christopher Robin: Might as well.
Scene: Christopher Robin, now in his early twenties, sits on a fallen log, in a small clearing. A book bag is at his feet, and various papers are spilling out of it. He is writing in a notebook. A thick book sits open beside him on the log. He wrinkles his brow and picks up the book. He seems enthralled.
Enter the fantasy-type figure of a woman. She has ethereal, pale blond hair, a sensual, flowing dress and large purple wings that arch over her head and all the way down to her feet. Christopher Robin starts in surprise, then smiles.
Christopher Robin: Did (Pause) I imagine you?
(The woman nods and steps toward him. Enter Tigger, a bubbly, anthropomorphic stuffed tiger.)
Tigger: Helloo there, Christopher-Roonie!
Christopher Robin: No, no, no! (Exit woman) Oh, great!
Tigger: Say, you been keeping kinda scare. I seen you on the path across the wood from Pooh’s house, the other day but you must not’ve seen me, ya’ nut! Ya’ went and run ‘afore I could bounce after ya’! (Bounces in a circle around Christopher Robin.) Why, if the bestest part of bein’ a tigger wasn’t that I’m the only one- then a fella would tend to get sorta lonely without his old bouncin’ buddy!
Christopher Robin: Tigger, tigers do not bounce. They hunt. They have three inch canines that they use to crush their prey’s neck, slowly suffocating it.
(Tigger stops bouncing and looks blankly at Christopher Robin.)
Tigger: I’m a Tigger. T-I-double ga-
Christopher Robin: Whatever.
(Pause. Tigger blinks stupidly.)
Tigger: Say there, Christopher-Roonie! You doin’ some studyin’? I betcha ol’ Owl could help you with your homey-homework, he knows lots of nifty stuff!
Christopher Robin: (Derisive laugh)
Tigger: How’s about I bounce on over and get him, buddy?
Christopher Robin: (Sarcastically) You do that.
Tigger: Just you wait here, ol’ pal!
(Exit Tigger. Pause. Christopher Robin glares silently. Enter a ‘real’ tiger. It jumps onto the log with Christopher Robin, then down onto the ground in front of him. It sits demurely on its haunches before its creator. They lock eyes. The tiger then turns in the direction that Tigger exited, licks its chops and growls.)
Christopher Robin: My sentiments exactly.
(The sound of flapping wings and a spring-like ‘boing-ing’ is heard in the distance. Christopher Robin starts, and the ‘real’ tiger disappears. Enter Tigger with Owl, a pompous, scholarly owl.)
Owl: I say, Christopher ol’ boy. I was just having a visit with my dear friend Tigger here, and he happened to mention that you are seeking my advice in regards to your scholarly pursuits. May I assume that this is the cause of your absence, of late? I do wish you had come to me sooner, I am quite knowledgeable in all of the various classical studies.
Christopher Robin: Yeah, whatever.
Owl: I say, what is it you are studying, my dear boy? (With difficulty)‘Theories of Parapsychological Matter Manifestation’?
Christopher Robin: Don’t touch it!
Owl: Oh, of course, quite. A scholar would be possessive of his (Pause) references (Pause) regarding (Pause) that (Pause) subject. I understand completely.
Tigger: Why, Owl’s just chock-full of learnin’ and all that other neat stuff. (Bounces in circles around Owl and Christopher Robin.)
Christopher Robin: Sure. (Suddenly cocks his head and grins mischievously.) You know, Owl, ‘ol’ boy’, I think I do need your expertise, here. What advice would you give a ‘scholar’ who found that he is evidently in possession of the parapsychological power to imbue simple material objects with sentience and intelligence, however nominal, drawn from his own psyche during his developmental years? (Pause) Not effective everywhere, mind you, but only within the confines of a single geographical location.
Owl: Oh (Pause) of course, of course.
Christopher Robin: Furthermore, what if these mental progenies retained their powers of being long after their creator’s mind and social standing had expanded beyond its need of them? And what if this creator now found his creations entirely disadvantageous, found them irksome reminders of his awkward, infantile past, that he would indeed prefer to expunge from existence? And what advice would you give, ‘dear old Owl,’ to this creative scholar, if he ascertained of late that he is not only in possession of these aforesaid powers, but (Pause) in this particular location (Pause) could affect full manifestation of responsive personages, as well? (Pause) -Chimerical beings more fitting of this mature psychological state? What would be the most advantageous course of action under these circumstances, Owl? (Pause) Well?
(Tigger stops bouncing and comes to rest beside Owl.)
Owl: Well. It entirely depends on (Pause) -but, of course one must keep in mind (Pause) -Oh, dear, I do feel a bit- (Owl’s head explodes. For a moment, his body remains upright, and stuffing can be seen, sticking out of his neck. Then the stuffed body tips stiffly over onto the ground. Tigger blinks stupidly. His mouth is hanging halfway open. Then he explodes, as well. Christopher Robin seems unsurprised and unaffected.)
Christopher Robin: Well, that’s two more down, and only the Pooh-bear to go. (He shivers. He closes his book, puts away his notebook and papers. Then he pauses. He retrieves the book again and looks at its cover. He then looks over to where the woman and the ‘real’ tiger had been, in turn.) I wonder…
Scene: Some weeks later. A wooded area with a large, low tree stump at one end. Winnie the Pooh’s tree home can be seen a short distance away, through the trees. Pooh, a stuffed teddy bear, is sitting on the ground beside the stump. His back is to the camera. He is concentrating on a pot of honey.
Enter Christopher Robin, at Pooh’s back. He is carrying a large, old book with the words ‘The Book of Pooh’ written in childish, handwritten letters.
Christopher Robin: (In a sing-song voice) Pooh! Oh, Pooh-bear! I have something I want to-
(Pooh tips back while devouring the honey. His head becomes stuck in the pot.)
Pooh: Oh, bother! It seems to have gotten dreadfully dark, all of a sudden! Oh, help! If whoever-you-are could see to un-darken (Pause) oh, but this isn’t so bad. There is plenty of honey. Never mind, whoever-you-are, if you please-
Christopher Robin: Oh, for gosh sakes! (Christopher Robin picks Pooh up by the pot on his head, roughly shakes him out of it, then tosses the pot aside, unceremoniously.)
Pooh: Oh, its you, Christopher Robin. If it is you. You seem to have gotten a lot bigger, Christopher Robin, or else I am a much shorter Pooh. I do not know which.
Christopher Robin: (To himself) Was I ever this stupid?
Pooh: If you are not Christopher Robin, then surely he has gone away, with all of Pooh’s other friends. That is, if I am Pooh.
Christopher Robin: Yeah, but listen-
Pooh: No one has come to share a small smackeral of honey in such a long time. Unless they are all at the other Pooh’s house, having his honey.
Christopher Robin: Whatever. I-
Pooh: Perhaps you could tell me, if you please, where the smaller Christopher Robin is, so I can follow him to the somewhat larger Pooh and all of his friends- and his honey, whoever-you-are-
Christopher Robin: Its me, ok! Christopher Robin! I’m Christopher Robin, and you’re Winnie-the-darn-Pooh, already! (Christopher Robin turns his back in order to control his frustration, then turns and faces Pooh again.)
Pooh: Are you very sure, whoever-you-
Christopher Robin: Yeah, I’m sure, ok. Listen! (Christopher Robin composes himself, again. He sits on the tree stump.) For a while now, I have been wondering what to do with you, Pooh. With all of you.
Pooh: We have had such great fun, Christopher Robin, if it is you.
Christopher Robin: I know, I know, but I was little then and now I’m grown-up, see? (Pooh looks at Christopher Robin blankly) Right. (Pause) So I’ve got to move on, for gosh sakes!
Pooh: Are you going away, Christopher Robin?
Christopher Robin: No. I’m not. I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t think I’m going to give up this ability to create things here, either. Its just you that’s the problem, but you’re not real, so (Pause) it doesn’t matter, see? (Pause. Christopher Robin gets up, paces a few steps, then pauses again. He nods resolutely, then goes and sits back down on the stump. He pulls the old book onto his lap, opens it, and proceeds to write something.) Pooh, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to introduce you to a distant relative of yours. (Christopher Robin looks up and makes a beckoning motion with his pen. Enter a ‘real’ bear. It comes to a stop beside Pooh.)
Pooh: Oh, hello, friend! Its always so pleasant to visit with friends and family, especially family I didn’t even know I-
(The ‘real’ bear growls. Pooh still has a blank expression. The ‘real’ bear then takes Pooh in its teeth, rises up on its back legs, and shakes him hard. Pooh’s muffled screams are heard. Stuffing and bits of fabric fly everywhere. The ‘real’ bear plops back down on the ground. Christopher Robin seems unaffected. He flicks a piece of stuffing off of the edge of his book. He makes a flourishing mark in the book. He closes it, and the ‘real’ bear disappears.)
Christopher Robin: Well. I’m glad that’s finally over with. (Pause. Christopher Robin encircles the air with one arm, as if embracing a buddy.) What about you, *Harvey?
(*Note: Harvey was the six-foot invisible rabbit from the Jimmy Stewart movie of the same name.) Current Mood: silly