It was a sunshiney day in the Hundred Acre woods; and the pimp hand of Christopher Robin was feeling strong. Two days had passed without a single bitch getting the business, so it was time to deliver.

Pooh and Piglet were outside enjoying the spring warmth. Their buddy-buddy antics borderlining on questionable homosexuality, but it's okay, no one was pressuring them to come out. Pooh would playfully push Piglet. The little piggy would giggle and tickle Pooh with a twig. Shit like that.

They were so involved with their little game they almost bumped into Chris the Pimp.

"Oh, hello Christopher Robin!" exclaimed Winnie the Pooh. Chris the Pimp only stared in response.

"S-s-sorry, Christopher, we didn't mean to get in the way, it's just a lovely day it's so d-d-distracting," added Piglet.

The chirping of birds filled the void of Chris the Pimp's silence.

"So uh," Pooh attempted,"Why are you waving your hand Christopher Robin?"

"I'm not waving," said Christopher Robin.

"Oh then, are you pretending you're taking a vow?" Pooh said.

Now, Christopher Robin may have had boy hands, with knuckles that barely scraped the surface of the skin, but his technique was flawless as his backhand struck the dumb bear across the face.

"Ow! Why did you hit me Christopher Robin? I was joking!" cried the hurt bear.

"Where is my money?" said the young pimp.

"What money?" said Pooh, holding his left cheek.

Chris the Pimp turned his eyes towards the cowering Piglet. "Don't make me repeat myself, where is my god damn money?"

"W-w-we don't have any m-m-money, Christopher Robin," stammered Piglet.

"You a bitch, Piglet," said Chris the Pimp.

"Well, t-t-technically I'm a piglet, you see a b-bitch is a female—"

WHACK! The little pig crumpled under the blow.

"Did you just try to correct me?" said Chris. "You a bitch if I say you a bitch."

No response was met, Chris the Pimp had successfully established his pimpology.

"That's better. Now, I know you both don't have money. So I'm gonna teach you bitches," began Chris. "Pooh, gather up some honey, take it to some diabetics and tell them it's low-carb honey. They'll buy that shit up like it was cure for their illness. Piglet, go take up piglet boxing —"

"But I don't box!" cried Piglet. That interruption earned him another backhand.

"YOU DON'T WHAT BITCH?!" yelled the angry, young pimp. "THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT! NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Now, an inexperienced pimp would have continued beating and yelling, but Chris was wise. He knew he'd never win any hearts over with anger and abuse, so he peppered the situation with some gentle love.

"I'm sorry Piglet," soothed Chris the Benign Pimp, "it's just that sometimes you make me so angry, you know?"

"It..it's okay Christopher," whimpered Piglet.

"Now back to what I was saying. Take up piglet boxing. There is an underground piglet boxing ring down on Sunshine Avenue. You big for a piglet so make sure you use that to your advantage and win papa some matches, aight bitch?"

"Yes Christopher," said Piglet.

Chris the Pimp flexed his verbal pimp skills. "Aight, I expect payment from both of you on the third of every month. You come to me, you hear? If I have to come find you it ain't gonna be pretty. But I love you. Pooh. Pooh look at me. I love you kay boo?"

The bear nodded.

Chris adjusted his tunic and thought to himself I need a cap with a feather. And a cane.

With his orders set on his new bitches, Chris the Pimp set out to extend the backhand of his pimpology to the rest of the Hundred Acre realm.