One day in the 100 Acre Wood, Piglet was walking along poking at various bugs n' things with his Pooh stick. After poking and prodding his way along the ground and up to a tree, he accidentally aggravated a hornet's nest.
"Oh, d-d-dear!" Piglet cried as an angry swarm of hornets flew out of their nest and homed in on him. He tossed the Pooh stick away and ran for his life as fast as his little piggy legs could carry him. Which wasn't far. Three steps in and he already tripped over a tiny stone. It may as well have been a boulder the way he smacked face-first hard into the thing.
The hornets flew with their stingers aimed at Piglet, and it was then the little pinky pig wished to god he didn't throw away his Pooh stick. Maybe the hornets were willing to let bygones be bygones if he had challenged them to a round and humbly lost.
What kind of game IS Pooh Sticks, anyway? Sounds vulgar—too vulgar for cutesy-type stuffed animals that can magically walk, talk, and consume honey at any rate.
Wait...if he's made of fluff and stuff, why the hell's he worried about a bunch of hornets stinging him? He's got no blood to circulate the venom, or any nerves to feel pain with, or any brains to sense pain and move his body.
Huh... a walking, talking stuffed doll with no brains, guts, or gizzards? Must be a voodoo doll. Sorry, but this author doesn't condone witchcraft. Let the little bugger take his lumps.
Piglet was stung by a couple hundred hornets.
The Pooh stick, incidentally, was left unharmed by the side of the road where Roo picked it up and returned it to the Fellowship of the Pooh.
The end.