The Adventures of Neil

Disclaimer: Before I get arrested for conspiracy to murder or something I’d like to point out that this is a work of fantasy and has been written purely to fulfil the mandate of the Pembroke college winnie-the-pooh society, as passed in the elevenses meeting held on the 8th of February 2003. I have not got, and will never have, anything against Neil (sorry Neil). I do not condone or encourage the harming of Neil or Neils in general. In fact I think he’s a thoroughly nice bloke who is unfairly victimised by the society.

Votes to censure Neil?

Chapter 1 - In which the society plays pooh sticks with Neil.

Once, in a small, insignificant market town called Cambridge, there lived a fine, strapping, handsome youth named Neil. Neil’s dark blonde locks, which resembled an Escher drawing, covered a mind of keen intellect. He was so intelligent he was studying the hardest and most important subject there was (at the second best university in the land). Yes, he was a sweet and innocent second year mathmo, at least whilst he was covered in sugar.

As well as his academic studies, Neil held an important position. He was treasurer of the distinguished Pembroke college winnie-the-pooh society. As part of his duties he was entrusted with society’s cashbox. It was very heavy at the moment as it was full of all the new members pooh levy, in fact Neil was hoping that four more people would join the society so he could afford the second series of star trek on DVD.

One day the society was going on a pooh-sticks expedition. Neil was taking the cashbox. The society was somewhat worried about this even if Neil was the treasurer.

"Your not supposed to take that much care of the money!" quipped Martin, as he arrived with Alison looking over his shoulder.

"Is anyone else coming?" inquired Jenny hopefully.

"Just Dunstan and his two members" sighed Rachel.

They all walked down the river until they reached pooh-sticks bridge. There, they lined up along the bridge and firmly held their sticks over the edge. Unfortunately Owen was being very careless waving his big stick around and whacked over Neil. The weight of all the pooh levy pulled Neil straight to the bottom of the river, and all he could do was to fight to keep his head above water. The group peered over the edge of the bridge and watched Neil’s frantic splashing.

"Votes to censure Neil for not lying face down and shouting "I’m OK" when he was thrown in the cam?" said Naath

"Seconded" came numerous replies

"Votes for the motion?" Owen called "Against? Abstentions? Motion failed"

"don’t you mean passed?" Said Roz who could actually count past three.

Unfortunately by this time Neil had been washed far down the river.

"Oh Dear." Said Owen as they watched his now still form be carried out of sight "How about some tea?"


The surviving members of the society retired to the grad pad for hot chocolate and cakes.

The cashbox was washed down river to the sea where it got eaten by several large sea mammals. (Why does the cash box being in Wales sound familiar?)

Fortunately for Neil, the Cam had become blocked by several small saplings (which had been thrown into the cam earlier by a certain president who will remain nameless). He was washed up and resuscitated by a young, attractive, female Russian who had been donated to the society. John-h was very happy to hear later that Neil’s hair had survived the whole experience.

N.B. Before I get censured for not fantasising about Neil being killed, I would point out that if being drowned and then resuscitated is dead enough to create a new slayer, then it should be good enough for you.

N.N.B It’s possible the coastguard could have saved Neil, but they were to busy trying to stand on a single ticket.

Here ends chapter one of the Adventures of Neil.

(The last piece of creative writing I did was my UCAS form. If some of this makes no sense to you then it’s your own fault for having not studied the minutes carefully enough or having too innocent a mind)

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©The Pembroke College Winnie-The-Pooh Society 2003.

Disclaimer: The views given on this page are entirely fictional and do not necessary correspond to those of Pembroke College