Pooh had never seen a can of Coca Cola before. Nor had he ever seen any can of soda before. But it was the bright red that caught his eye as it lay among the leaves and branches.
"Oh, my what is this?" Pooh said as he approached the object. The red was pretty with pleasing white lines through it. "Very Pretty!" exclaimed Pooh. He picked up the object and it was heavy. "Must be something inside! Maybe it’s full of huny!" It was round with two silver ends. Pooh shook it to hear what was inside. Nothing happened. He shook it again.
"Oh, I’ll have to open it to see," said Pooh. He turned it over in his hands. There was writing on the side, but Pooh couldn’t read it. "It doesn’t say ‘HUNY’" There was also some small writing on one of the silver ends.
"Can’t make it out, must look closer," murmurred Pooh.
Pooh looked as close has he could. But there was a ring, close to the can and it tugged at his nose.
"Oh, dear," exclaimed Pooh, who could not read the small writing still, but felt his nose pinched.
Just then, Piglet came by. "Oh, hi, Pooh," said Piglet. "What is that new thing?"
"Oh, it’s red and it seems to be stuck on my nose! Oh, bother!" said Pooh. "Ow! It hurts Piglet!"
"M-m-maybe you should j-j-just pull it off," stuttered Piglet. Piglet examined the red object closely. "What does C-O-K-E mean?" he said.
"Oh, bother, I wish I had never found this thing!" exclaimed Pooh.
"M-m-maybe I k-k-could help you pull it off," said Piglet, anxiously hopping all over.
"Oh, bother, I should probably pull it off. It may hurt, but I don’t think I could leave it on my nose forever!" whined Pooh.
Pooh pulled at the can and suddenly there was a snapping noise. "Ow!" yelled Pooh just as hot fizzy stuff squirted everywhere. Pooh’s cries of surprise and anguish gargled as the hot sticky stuff shot into his eyes and mouth and shot up his nose. Pooh flopped down as dead and writhed on the ground, coughing and choking.
"Oh, my! Oh, dear!" whined Piglet, running around aimlessly.
"Help me, Piglet," coughed Pooh, squirting soda from his nose. Piglet settled on a path and darted off. "Christopher Robbins! Christopher Robbins!" he wailed, his voice getting tighter and tighter.
Fortunately, Christopher Robbins was nearby, sewing on Eeyore’s tail again. He heard the squealing as Piglet ran around the clearing, wailing.
"Calm down, Piglet," Christopher Robbins said soothingly. "What’s the matter?"
"Pooh, Pooh, Pooh," wailed Piglet. "y-y-you’ve g-g-got to h-h-help him!"
"What’s the matter?"
"P-P-Pooh’s got C-C-Coke up his nose!"
Christopher Robbins frowned and was very sad. "I never thought it would come to this," he said sadly, withdrawing his cellphone and dialing the Substance Abuse Hotline. "Pooh is very sick and some nice men will take care of him, Piglet."
Two men in white coats carried Pooh in a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. The nice policeman had handcuffed him to the stretcher so he wouldn’t fall off.
"Eh, I always knew he wouldn’t turn out so good," said Rabbit.
"Maybe we all should stay away from HUNY," groaned Eeyore. "It’s bound to lead to something worse. Always does."
"Where am I going," moaned Pooh, rolling on the stretcher.
"Bye, Pooh," said all his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood. "2 to 5 years is not long."