[ WP ] It first began with gritty remakes of old iconic movies . Now children 's book companies are riding the trend by releasing gritty remakes of classic children 's tales .

The rain soaked into Pooh's soft cloth skin. Branches tore at him as he rushed through the woods -- a thorn bush ripped at his cheek. Pooh felt no pain, only terror. 
 
 He burst through the edge of the forest, skidding to a stop on the banks of a swollen stream. Pausing only to cast a panicked look over his shoulder, he rushed into the stream. 
 
 It was a battle to cross. The wet rain, cold stream, and complete lack of actual muscles made it difficult for Pooh to cross, but not impossible. He eventually clawed his way up on the opposite bank. He took a moment to gather himself. 
 
 That was his mistake. 
 
 `` Oh Winnie.'' 
 
 Pooh froze in terror. 
 
 `` You should know, better, Pooh. By now, you should know better.'' 
 
 Pooh heard the sound of a slide being drawn back and felt the unmistakable feeling of a pistol being pushed into the fur on the back of his neck. 
 
 `` Nobody leaves the 100 acre Wood.'' 
 
.... 
 
 Pooh looked at his phone. It was a year ago today. 365.25 days. But now, he was ready. 
 
 The kindly old lady quietly opened the door and stepped into the room. 
 
 `` I got all of the things on your list,'' she said. `` Where would you..?'' 
 
 `` Corner of the room is fine,'' Pooh said curtly. After a few seconds, he remembered his manners. `` Thank you, Marceline.'' 
 
 The elderly lady nodded and left the room quietly. She was a kind soul. After she got over the fact that the abused doll she had found in the woods was actually an anthropomorphic bear with a life of its own, they were good. 
 
 Pooh put down the freshly cleaned and assembled Browning 9mm and looked over at the closed door. She had been too nice. 
 
 `` Maybe it's a karma thing,'' he muttered. `` My friends get killed, I get shot, but I get rescued by the kindly old lady, who treats me well.'' 
 
 He took a few more seconds to think about it before shaking his head and dismissing the thoughts. 
 
 There was work to do. 
 
 There were people to punish. 
 
 And he was going to punish them. He was... the Poohnisher. 
 
 Pooh picked up the gun and held it out, pointing it at a rough and faded picture on the wall. `` I'm coming for your bitch -ass, Christopher Robin.''
