Part Ten

Tigger had been lying on his cigarette burned, and beer stained sofa watching porn videos of pregnant Latinas shooting milk. He was annoyed when the phone rang.

"Probably another collection agency wanting shit," Tigger muttered as he reached for the cordless phone that was hanging out under a pizza box. It could be D'Asia, the hot piece of ass he met at T and A Cinnabuns the other night,

"Tigger," Pooh bellowed. "Eeoyre and I need your help. We are trapped at the von Maurer Mansion. We are wasted and need a ride home." Pooh knew what was to come. A rant about how Tigger was just a low budget taxi service. Instead Tigger was silent for a few minutes.

"You went to the ball? With Shawsey being sick?" Tigger exclaimed.

"Shawsey's fever broke," Pooh replied. He shivered with the cold gusts of wind. "He's going to be all right. Look if you help us, I'll get you a six pack." There was silence. Pooh watched as the smoke from his breath vanished in the crisp, frigid, air.

"Okay," Tigger said. "I don't know how, but I'll find a way to get to you. But I don't want some cheap ass convenience store shit like Budweiser or Coors. I can bribe any thirteen year old to get me that shit. I want some good shit. I want some Guinness. Guinness like they drink in Ireland. I haven't had any of that shit in a long while."

"Promise," Muttered a freezing Pooh. "I'll buy you all the Guinness you can drink."

"Okay," Tigger said. "I'll try Pete Moss. He's in town for the holidays, he can give us a ride."

"Oh good," said Pooh. "But make haste! Eeyore just pissed himself."

"It will keep him warm," said Tigger. Pooh hoped this worked. Pete Moss and Tigger were their only hope. Pete Moss was the nephew of Miami Dolphins receiver Weasil Moss. Weasil had a beautiful vacation cabin in the wood, and often Pete would come for a visit to his uncle and all the booze, toys, and babes that came with him.

"Hey you guys," A security guard barked. "We're closing up the gates. You must leave now." The last limo had left from the parking lot. The mansion was already shutting off the elaborate, circus-like spectacle of Christmas lights that lined the estate. It had more lights than the Vegas strip.

"We were guests of the ball," Pooh explained. "We are waiting for a ride."

"Yeah right," the guard snorted. "I can't believe any hoodlum that says that shit. If I did, do you know how many bums we'd have snorting, and sleeping on this front porch! Now we are closing up for the night. You will have to wait for your ride outside the gates." With a heavy heart Pooh helped a stumbling Eeyore down the steps and down the path to the gate. As soon as they made it through, the heavy electric gate slammed behind them. The porch light went out, and except for the faint glow of the light from the Ford's master bedroom, the house was dark. Pooh huddled next to Eeyore to keep warm. Even with all the booze and peppermint schnapps he had consumed Pooh couldn't keep warm. The alcohol was just starting to go to his head and make him queasy with that hangover headache. It had taken longer this time due to all the food he had ate. Eeyore hurled onto the icy sidewalk. Chunks of half digested deviled eggs, figs, and peppermint ice cream glided over the ice like Scott Hamilton. Pooh went overboard on rich desserts such as baklava, fudge, and eggnog spiked with Southern Comfort. Eeyore had gone overboard on shots of Ouzo. Ice chunks were forming in his hair. He began to shake and tremble with beginning stages of hypothermia. All Pooh knew to do was huddle closer, and try to keep Eeyore's face away from the bitter sleeting wind. In the distance Pooh could hear caroler singing The Coventry Carol.. He tried to take comfort in their song

Lullay, thou little tiny child, By, by, lully, lullay.

Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.

By, by, lully, lullay

Across the street at some other swishy mansion there was a beautiful Italian carved nativity scene with spotlights shining at it.

"Look Eeyore," said the shivering Pooh. "Look at the Christmas angel, and the Christmas star, the star of Bethlehem. It led the wise men to baby Jesus. Perhaps it will lead Tigger to us." Pooh had forgotten that Eeyore was a nonbeliever. Eeyore snorted

"Tigger ain't no wise man," he replied. "He can't even hold down a job making sandwiches at Subway. Face it Pooh. We are going to freeze out here. We are in single digit temperatures, with a negative fifteen wind chill. First we will get hypothermic, and then we will hallucinate because our bodies will loose oxygen, then slowly ice chunks will form around our hearts and liver, destroying it forever."

Pooh ignored Eeyore, though it was hard through his groans, of pre-hypothermia.

Pooh was also beginning to feel hypothermic. He tried to focus on the songs of the

carolers, but eventually they faded into the night.