The cost to the sax-players.

'Goodness.  Is that so?'

'Apparently, Pooh. Owl told me.'

'How much is it, again?'

'Three hundred and fifty million of their pounds.  Could be more.'

'And that's for the lighting--'

'Lighting, heating, big wash and brush up.  Apparently the wiring hasn't been replaced since the 1950s.'

'Sorry, Piglet, why did you put that Patrol-Leader voice on just then?'

'Ah, well, it's that phrase, you see.  If you want something importantly urgent done importantly, whether you deserve it or not, you have to say it hasn't been done since the 1950s.'

'Oh, I see--like saying that something's the size of whales--'

'--who have recently ingested ten football pitches.  Yes.'

'So whoever needs all this doing…they're paying for it?'

'Ah, well, they can't.  They're on special benefits.'

'Special benefits?'

'Divine right.'

'Meaning?'

'Owl asked Tigger--'

'--oh, dear--'

'Who said it roughly translates as, never give suckers an even break.'

'I see.'

'No, the saxplayers are footing the bill.'

'The…?'

'Saxplayers.  They pay for everything in their…their…oh, what's the term?'

'Civil society?'

'Well, yes, for want of anything better...that.  Apparently people are forever going on about the cost to the saxplayers.'

'Sounds like they've got some kind of fan club.'

'Mums are loyal.'

'So how does it work?'

'Owl reckons that in their…do I have to say "civil" again?'

'Not on my account.'

'Thank you, Pooh.  Well, in their thing, Owl says, there's a group of saxplayers who are so bad that they have to pay to play.'

'They must want to play ever such a lot.'

'They must want to stay rubbish even more.'

'And where is this place?'

'Oh…Buckingham Something.'

'Three hundred and fifty million.  Gosh.  Ah, well, you know…'

'Know what, Pooh?'

'Well, it's coming up to their season of good swill.  Perhaps the saxplayers will ask to be allowed to give it to, oh, I don't know, children who need to be needed.'

'Oh, Pooh…silly old bear.'