[ WP ] The `` grim and gritty '' re-boot of a beloved children 's television show goes horribly , horribly wrong . Or perhaps horribly right .

Fleming: So was the entire 100 Acres covered in forest? 
 
 He took a long drag from the Marlboro he had been flittering gently between his fingers, the smoke filling the vacuum of his lungs and the nicotine coating his brain in euphoria. Breathing it down to the filter, he dropped it into the ashtray and pulled another from his shirt pocket. 
 
 D: I don ’ t know about all of it, but I can tell you that it all needs to be burned to the ground. Trees rooted and every living thing in there engulfed along with it. 
 
 Fleming: What did you find in there? 
 
 The man, lighting up what must have been his 6th cigarette in 20 minutes, gazed with callous eyes at the officer. They were eyes that had seen every horrible war crime and accident before, witnessed hundreds of brutal deaths and felt the utter emptiness of humanity. 
 
 D: It was supposed to be a rescue mission. I was given a special unit for extraction of a high value target, but the higher-ups were very hush-hush about the whole operation. They gave us the coordinates and sent us up river. The first place we stopped… 
 
 Fleming: The gloomy place? 
 
 D: Yeah, the gloomy place. That ’ s an understatement. I ’ ve seen destitution but never like this. Animals were chained together, other animals watched over them with rifles pointed at their skulls, piles upon piles of bodies, some burned, some still burning like beacons of hate. I could handle that, seen savages like that before. It was the mass suicide that got me. 
 
 Fleming: How ’ d you know it was a mass suicide? 
 
 D: The bodies…God the bodies…they hung by their necks in concentric circles in the woods as far as the eye could see. Eyes bulging, tongues lolling: brainwashed by that fucking ass. That fucker was in the middle, in the tallest tree of all, body still swinging in the breeze, pink ribbon around his tail stained with shit and blood. 
 
 Fleming: Let ’ s move on, what happened after you got to the second station? 
 
 D: Rabbit ’ s house? I tell you we almost didn ’ t make it, lost three good men to that goddamn tiger. Kept ambushing us when we got too close to the shore. I still remember the screams, the sight of him bouncing. But he didn ’ t make a sound, effortlessly bounding upon my men, ripping them in two, all the time growling “ T-I-double guh-RRR ” 
 
 He shuddered slightly and slammed his fist into the table. 
 
 D: But I put a bullet right between his yellow savage eyes, being a fucking corpse is what he does best now. Anyway, we got to Rabbit ’ s house. Lazy bastards, they were cowards still trying to get ahead. Rabbit himself, their so-called ‘ leader ’, wrecked the goddamn transport we were supposed to take. Took us days to fix it, and they just sat there. Then they had they had the fucking gall to want to go with us to the end. I was tired, exhausted, and agreed along with it. They ended up just being fodder for the bear. 
 
 Fleming: The bear? Your report didn ’ t mention anything about the bear. 
 
 D: I know, I couldn ’ t bring myself to write it. It was too brutal. Vicious, terrifying, he stood 12 feet tall and had claws the size of my hands. He drained the blood of all his kills into this big jar and would just continually lick his paws, always looking for more slaughter to fill his bowl. Goddamnit we couldn ’ t take him down. As soon as we got to the inner station we had to get Chris and get him out. We lost the rabbit, we lost almost all my men. But we got Robin, we had him safe and we were heading back. That bear can stay in the darkness. 
 
 Fleming: So what happened, where is he? 
 
 The man dropped his head in his hands, cigarette smoldering next to his ear, silent. 
 
 Fleming: Well? Where is Christopher Robin? 
 
 D: We were almost back. He was in the clear, but that little pig of his was getting anxious, kept saying he was getting sick. I didn ’ t believe him; I just wanted to get the hell out of there. It happened the night before we got back to base. He gave me his commissioned report on the 100 Acre Wood, and a photograph, told me to keep it away from the owl. Then with his last breath he whispered “ The horror! The horror! ” 
 
 He stood up, grabbed his coat, and started for the door. 
 
 Fleming: What about the report?! 
 
 Savage eyes looked back at him. 
 
 D: Burn it all to the ground. 

