My first story published here. Hooray! This is, quite simply, the characters of my childhood wrapped into one silly little story. This story takes place sometime after Star Fox: Assault... and it seems nothing ever changes for Winnie the Pooh and Co. So I hope you enjoy it!

Each of the characters are owned by their respective owners; no infringement is intended.

Star Fox: The Battle for Pooh Corner


He stopped toweling himself off and twitched his ears, almost snarling. "What is it Slippy?"

"It's a planet!"

So help him, he was going to throw Slippy in an escape pod and toss the keycard out an airlock. Every time they came across anything even the least bit scientifically interesting, Slippy had to tell someone. Unfortunately for the poor frog, no one cared. "We've passed seven planets and an asteroid belt, Slippy. None of them had anything on them."

"Six planets," Slippy corrected. "One of them was too small to be a planet."

Fox was about to pull a tuft of hair from his head when he heard Falco in the background. "What the heck was it, then?"

Slippy didn't answer for a few moments. "I'm not sure. But it's not a planet. Too small. Its moon was almost was big as it was." Like Fox cared. Like Falco cared. Probably the only thing on the ship that cared was ROB, and he wasn't as interesting to tell because he already knew.

"Slippy," Fox sighed, going back to drying off his fur. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to it when Slippy insisted on putting a two-way mic in the shower. As if that'd ever be useful, Fox had said. What about an emergency! Slippy had wailed. Fine, then. Worst decision ever. "Unless you find some flying worms made of fire…"

"Boring. We've seen those before," Falco interrupted.

"Or lizards…"

"Are you kidding me?" Falco groaned.

"That don't talk," Fox finished.

"That, I'd like to see," Falco agreed.

Fox sighed and went on, "I'm not interested, okay? If you find some amazing planet or something… I don't know. Include it in your report to the general. I'm sure he'd love to hear all about it when we get home." He heard Falco snickering, and it took almost all of his willpower to not rip the receiver out of the wall.

"But, Fox," Slippy moaned. "There are living things on this planet!"

Fox jumped out of the shower and pulled his clothes on. That was what he was talking about. "Why didn't you say so in the first place! Ready the arwings!" Hostile or not, toxic atmosphere or not, Fox was going stir-crazy and he was sure Falco was, too. The term "living thing" was very broad, though. Unfortunately, Slippy could have just been reading expansive plant life. But, the only scenery Fox and his team had for the weeks since emerging from the Orbital Gate just outside this galaxy had been these foreign stars.

He was not an explorer. He knew that much. As soon as he was done with this mission, he was just going to have to tell the general if there weren't any wars going on good luck getting Team Star Fox to do anything for him. He didn't care how good the money was. No amount of money was good enough for the boredom that Fox had to endure on this trip.

Not to mention Slippy.

Loan Slippy to the general for a few weeks… then he'd see.

Fox tugged on his white jacket and sprinted to the bridge of the Great Fox. Slippy was tapping away at the controls for the awring bay, and Falco was almost slipping out of his chair. He had grown increasingly liquid-like as the trip dragged on. He started out tense and angry in the morning and by the end of the day he had dribbled on to the floor, groaning over and over that he was bored out of his mind.

Fox wasn't always sure Falco had one of those, but he understood the feeling.

"This is gonna be boring," Falco predicted. "A bunch of plants and blood-sucking insects. Maybe some fish. If we're lucky. And I think we both know…" he went on, turning his blue eyes to Slippy and then back at Fox. "We aren't lucky. At all."

"We'll be out of the Great Fox," Fox reminded.

"Well, then, by all means, sign me up." Falco twirled his hand around in an uninterested expression of celebration.

Fox rushed the undocking procedure for his own sanity's sake, and soon he, Falco, and Slippy were soaring down to the planet. It was shiny blue and green, something like Corneria, and densely populated with strange piglike creatures. They chose one of the many islands, medium-sized, to begin the exploration. ROB had reported that the air was breathable and they should have no problems with the natives as long as they stayed out of sight.

The set down in a clearing in a wood, and emerged from their arwings. "Well," Falco said as their boots hit the soft dirt. "This is pretty horrible."

"It's nice," Slippy corrected. "Better than sitting in the Great Fox for another few weeks."

"Let's spread out," Fox ordered. "If you see any natives, try to stay out of sight. If they attack you, don't let them kill you… but don't attack back too hard. Don't want to start an intergalactic war or anything."

"Yeah. Wouldn't that be a tragedy," Falco scoffed, and disappeared into the woods.

In Which Pooh and Piglet Find Something Very Peculiar Indeed

One day, while hunting for heffalumps with Tigger, Winnie the Pooh and his very good friend Piglet ranged all over the 100 Acre Wood. They had gone so far from Pooh Corner, which was the place where Pooh lived, that Pooh was not quite sure where they were. But that was not unusual for a bear of so very little brain.

They were climbing over a particularly large log when Piglet ran up to Pooh and pulled on his shirt. "Pooh, oh, Pooh!"

"What is it, Piglet?" Pooh asked, trying to climb up the log a bit farther, but he lost his grip and landed on the ground on his bottom. That was no terrible thing, though, since Pooh was stuffed with fluff, and any landing was, to him, a soft landing. When Pooh stood, grimacing at the tall log, Piglet was tugging at his arm and pointing frantically into the distant wood, muttering in the same attitude. "What is it again, Piglet? I didn't hear you the first time."

"It's-it's-it's something v-v-very shiny in the woods, Pooh! And it d-d-doesn't look like it belongs the-the-the-there!" Piglet circled around Pooh and hid behind him as Pooh trotted happily off to see whatever shiny thing Piglet had seen. The only really shiny thing that Pooh Bear knew of, besides the small bell above his door, was honey. And honey was never a bad thing.

This, unfortunately, was not honey. But it was very shiny and very large and like nothing Pooh had ever seen before. "Oh, Piglet," Pooh breathed, stopping in his tracks and looking at the white and blue things sitting in the middle of the clearing.

Piglet ran into him, and fell over.

"Do you know what this is, Piglet?" Pooh asked. He squinted at the things. He had a very strange recollection of them. When Piglet neglected to answer for a moment, Pooh went on, "These… are eagles!"

"Eagles?" Piglet lamented. "A very fearsome creature?"

"Oh, yes," said with a nod. "Very fearsome. They move… when you don't look at them," Pooh said slowly, keeping his eyes on them. Piglet suddenly didn't let his eyes stray from them, either. "They can fly, and when you aren't looking… they drop on you."

"Oh, d-d-d-dear!" Piglet whispered, trying very hard to keep looking at it. Pooh kept his eyes on it, too. "What shall we do, Pooh?"

Pooh wasn't quite sure, but he thought that he remembered something about it. "I think… we must—"

But he didn't get to finish, for a moment later he was assaulted from the side and was soon sprawling on his back, with Tigger perched happily on his stomach. "Pounced ya!" he announced. Piglet took no notice, keeping his eyes on the eagles, but Pooh was immediately distracted. "You should be more aware of your surroundings, Pooh Bear," Tigger cautioned as he stalked off into the woods.

"I should be. You're right, Tigger," Pooh agreed, and followed him into the woods.

Piglet still stared at the large blue and white things in the clearing.

In Which Eeyore Meets a Newcomer (a.k.a. Invader)

Eeyore had been setting up his lean-to near a stream in the 100 Acre Woods as far from Rabbit's relations as he could manage. They were certainly a rowdy bunch of rabbits today, he pondered. Not that it mattered to him. Whatever celebrations they were carrying out, he obviously wasn't invited to. He sighed and leaned a stick up against the top beam and looked at his house.

It would have to do.

He walked around the shed once and sighed again. Not that there was much he could do about how homely it looked. But, at least, it was in a location as far-removed from the Rabbit-relatives as he could manage. He started to turn to look for some thistles to munch on when he heard a rustle in the woods behind him.

He sighed and braced for impact. Tigger thought he was good at stalking and pouncing, but he wasn't. Either that or Eeyore had gotten very used to it. Eeyore didn't see the point in ruining his fun, though. At least someone was. Even if it was at his expense…

Eeyore realized a moment later that, while he was definitely being stalked like a Tigger would, he was definitely not pounced upon. Eeyore whirled about and looked every which way for the tell-tale flashes of orange and black, which he never saw. He did, however, see a quivering leaf off under the underbrush alongside the creek, and a blue-and-white blob not far beyond it. Eeyore thought very hard about any denizen of the 100 Acre Wood that it might have been, but could think of no one familiar.

Perhaps it was Pooh in some sort of disguise.

"I see you…" Eeyore called out lackadaisically. "Why don't you come on out. It's not as if I usually get visitors."

Eeyore heard a word, then, that he'd never heard before and never cared to hear again, in a voice that he had never heard before and never cared to hear again. The branches parted and a face, somewhat like Owl's but less round, more blue, and with a sharper beak, emerged. Whatever-it-was stared at him.

"Whatever you are, you have a lot to learn about sneaking up on people," Eeyore said glumly, sitting down. The creature watched, still, saying nothing. "Though, leaving off the pounce at the end is an improvement over the usual, I guess. I'm Eeyore. Who are you? I don't get many visitors. Everyone's too busy, I guess."

The stranger ducked away into the woods and moved off rather loudly, without saying a word. Eeyore sighed. "Well. Isn't that nice," he muttered, and went off to find Pooh Bear. Someone had to know about their visitor. However rude it was.

In Which Pooh and Company Prepare for War

"Was it a heffalump?" Pooh Bear asked with a serious timbre. He and Tigger had gone in search of Owl to help with the heffalump-hunt. Owl always seemed to know important things like that, because he never forgot anything. Pooh, on the other hand, had just about forgotten all about the eagle he and Piglet had found in the woods.

"I don't think so, Pooh," Eeyore sighed. "But it wasn't very nice. Didn't even say hello. Not that anyone ever does."

Tigger stroked his chin thoughtfully and growled. "Do you know what this means?" he asked. "We have an infestation of heffalumps!"

Pooh clapped his paws to his face. "Oh, bother!"

Owl shook his head and clicked his beak. "An infestation?" he repeated, brushing his beak with one of his feathers. "That reminds me of the time my great-great-uncle was at the Battle of Waterloo!" Tigger repeated the words "battle of Waterloo" as reverently as he could. "Why, yes, I do believe that my great-great-uncle flew over the army…" Tigger breathed "army" quietly. "And their armor glistened in the sun!"

"Armor!" Tigger exclaimed. "Come on, Pooh." With that, he seized Pooh's arm and bounded away in the direction of Rabbit's house. Eeyore lumbered along behind as Owl soared overhead, reciting his hear-say tale of the Battle of Waterloo.

A moment later, they arrived at Rabbit's house. Rabbit was, as usual, out in his garden, happily hoeing at a row of carrots. "Old buddy, old pal!" Tigger shouted, bounding the fence and plowing into Rabbit. After rolling into a tomato plant, Tigger took stock of the garden, then looked down at Rabbit and shook his head. "You have really got to take better care of this garden, Long-Ears."

Rabbit shoved Tigger away and brushed himself off as he stood. "Do you mind!" he grumbled.

Pooh was on the other side of the fence in a heap from being suddenly left behind by Tigger when he sailed over the fence. "Rabbit," Pooh said as he picked himself up. "Rabbit, we have an in... infus... infuse-ation of heffalumps." Rabbit looked from Tigger to Pooh to Owl in bewilderment.

"Ah, yes," Owl said as he perched on the fence post. "An infestation."

"Of heffalumps?" Rabbit asked. "Oh, dear."

"Oh, yes," Owl agreed. "As I was saying, this reminds me of the Battle of Waterloo…"

"Oh, yes," Rabbit agreed, nodding. "The Battle of Waterloo." Rabbit then appeared to be thinking very hard, as he drummed his head with his fingers and tapped his foot on the fallen tomato plant. Then he questioned, "What is Waterloo?" but cut Owl off when he tried to reply. "No, no, no. This is not the Battle of Waterloo! This is the Battle for the 100 Acre Wood!"

"We need armor," Tigger said.

"Oh, yes," Rabbit agreed. "I have just the thing."

He scampered off to his house and returned with an armful of kitchen-ware. He distributed pots to each of them, slamming a sauce-pot on Pooh's head with a note of finality. Fortunately for Pooh, his head was stuffed with fluff as well, so it did not hurt very much. Rabbit then distributed ladles, whisks, spoons, and spatulas to each of them and strapped a baking pan to his chest.

Rabbit inspected them each seriously, and then paced before them. "We need someone to scout out ahead. Find out where the heffalumps are now," he said. "Tigger?" Tigger answered with a stiff salute. "You go find out where they are. Owl?" As Tigger bounded away, Rabbit looked at him and pointed up at the sky, waving his hand around in circles. "Reconnaissance!" Owl flew off, leaving just Pooh and Eeyore standing with Rabbit.

Rabbit looked at them, and then counted them one at a time. "Is something missing?"

"No," Pooh answered, shaking his head. "I don't think so."

Rabbit shrugged his shoulders and went on giving orders.

Mission 1: Pooh Corner

"It's been standing there for a while now…" Fox sighed in a whisper. "Hasn't moved a muscle in at least…" He consulted his hand-held HUD and then said, "Twenty minutes." Fox and Slippy had begun heading back to the arwing when they didn't see anything interesting and, when they returned, found the small pinkish pig-thing standing guard beside their arwings. Although, it was an odd way of standing guard, granted. Its eyes were fixed unerringly on the arwings and had been for longer than Fox would have cared to watch, himself.

"That's dedication," Slippy agreed. "I wonder if it was ordered to stay here."

"I can't think of any other reason," Fox sighed. "Heck, I wouldn't even be here if I wasn't ordered." Slippy chortled quietly in response. "Well, I don't see anything around here to make me think the natives would be capable of stealing the arwings, so I think we're safe leaving them here. No need to worry they'd fly off without us. Speaking of which, where the heck is Falco?"

"Haven't seen him since we split up."

"Well, I don't want to use the comm in case he's got it on speaker now that we know the place is inhabited. Let's go explore a bit more and come back later… Maybe it'll be gone and if not, we'll handle it." Fox hoped maybe they would have to handle it, he was so bored of out his mind and had been for what seemed like months.

"Alright," Slippy piped, and slipped away through the forest before him.

Fox sauntered after, his mind more occupied with getting back to Corneria after this mission was over and back to exciting things. Maybe Corneria had seen an increase in space pirate activity in the time they'd been gone. Or perhaps the Aparoids had come back. Or some other unforeseeable catastrophe. That would be ideal, because then the general might think twice about sending Team Star Fox on such exploration/reconnaissance missions in the future.

Fox suddenly snapped to the alert, turning his ears from side to side. Had he heard something? A twig breaking? A growl? "Hey, Slippy?" he called. "Did you hear something?" When Slippy answered the negative, Fox stood still a few more moments and looked around.

He wasn't jumpy, he reasoned. He wasn't tense. He knew what it was like to be watched, that tingling burn on the skin when eyes were on him. They were being watched. Now by what, and why? Those were a pair of mysteries that he would have preferred to solve as soon as possible.

"Hey, Fox, look at this," Slippy called from ahead.

Fox stepped out of the trees into another clearing with a tree on the edge with a door and a sign over it which read "Pooh Corner." Fox looked at the sign, then at the shining bell beside it, and finally to the log in front of the door which, Fox assumed, was for sitting on. He laughed.

"This is no military operation." His concern about the watcher was considerably less now.

"Clearly not," Slippy agreed, peering into one of the windows.

"There you guys are!"

"Falco." Fox whirled around to see Falco running toward them through the brush. "We were kind of wondering where you were… Slippy and I got bored, so we went back to the arwing, and—"

"I've been spotted," Falco interrupted breathlessly.

"Oh. Well, brilliant, birdbrain," Slippy muttered.

"Hey," Falco snapped. "I was careful. These things have some kind of sixth sense or high-tech sensors or something. I was careful, Fox, I swear."

"It's alright," Fox said, waving it off. "I don't think these people have any kind of tech. I mean, look at where they live," he added, gesturing at the crude home they'd stumbled upon. Falco looked at it critically, and then at Fox, obviously skeptical. "We're fine, Falco. But I think I want to get out of here as much as you do, right now. What do you say we go back to the Great Fox, write up a little report on this system and get home?"

"Sounds great to me," Falco said, stretching his arms.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be much of interest here for us," Slippy said with a sigh. "No technology of note. There are those weird little pig-things."

"Pig-things?" Falco repeated.

"You'll see," Fox chuckled as he moved to go back to the arwing. However, a yell, a tribal yell like the Lightfoots of Dinosaur Planet, interrupted his steps and nearly stopped his heart as he drew his blaster and turned. He saw what seemed to be an entire army, but as soon as his eyes adjusted to the chaos, he saw it was only five. But five against three, and these creatures seemed to know what they were doing with the weapons they waved in their hands.

Slippy had already turned to run from the sudden onslaught and, while Falco had first made a show of standing up against them, was soon tailing Slippy as fast as his considerably longer legs could take him. Fox decided that he had better follow, and fast, before the natives caught up with him.

"Is that a spatula?" Slippy screamed as he ran.

"How the heck do I know?" Falco returned, sprinting ahead. "Just run!"

"This reminds me of the Battle of Waterloo!" came a loud voice from behind them. "My great-great-uncle would be so proud!" Oh, great, Fox thought. Seasoned warriors. Have we ever picked the wrong planet!

They were running so fast and Fox's mind was so fixed on simply getting to the arwing that he didn't see that the small pig-thing had not moved from the spot in which he had left him before. He ran straight into it and tripped clean over it, landing on his face in the dirt while the little creature scrambled away toward the natives running toward them. Fox wondered if it was only a matter of time before the little creature joined them in the charge.

Fox jumped up in time to see Falco swing into the cockpit of his arwing, and Slippy did the same. "Come on, Fox, get a move on!" Falco shouted as the window closed over his head.

Fox leaped into his arwing and started up the engines before he had even closed the window. "Let's get out of here! Go! Go!" The three arwings lifted off into the sky and away, but Fox banked first to see the collection of creatures below them, laughing and cheering.

"We. Are. Never. Going back there," Falco said as he took deep breaths.

"Got that right," Fox agreed. "Let's go back home."

"Warn the General," Slippy sighed.

Fox nodded seriously. "Let's just hope they don't come after us."

"Something tells me they won't," Falco said.

"Well…" Fox pondered. "Let's put up some early-warning bouys at the edge of the system anyway." Falco chuckled softly, so Fox added defensively, "You know, just in case!"

"Whatever you say, Fox. Whatever you say."