Spam and Facepack

'Piglet?'
'Hmm?'
'What if all of Tigger's friends from that … that thing they appear on.'
'His lapdance.'
'Yes, but the special place, Piglet. Where he actually keeps them.'
'Facepack.'
'Yes. Now what if--how many did you say he had?'
'One thousand and I've run out of fingers.'
'What if all his one thousand and I've run out of fingers Facepack friends turned up together for tea?'
'Oh, we could help out, Pooh. A cup here, a serviette there. Eeyore could do his talk on misunderstood donkeys through the ages.'
'I've just got a new jar of hunny. I suppose if we're talking sacrifice--'
'But it won't happen, Pooh.'
'No?'
'As I said before, a lot of them live a long long way away. Much further than Profile Pending.'
'Oh.'
'Steamed Sir.'
'What?'
'Steamed Sir. That's how the long way away people address Tigger in their Facepack letters.'
'Do they now?'
'Sometimes Most Steamed Sir.'
'Gosh, that sounds important. I wonder what you have to do to be Most?'
'Let yourself be steamed a bit longer, I suppose.'
'So why can't the long way away people come for tea?'
'Money, Pooh. They have no money. Well, they do, but they don't.
That's why they steam Tigger. Apparently if they can arrange to send their money to his . . . his . . . oh, what do you call where people put their money?'
'Mattress?'
'No.'
'Down their throats?'
'No.'
'The National Litter-tray?'
'No.'
'Apparently glitzy but invariably disappointing holidays?'
'No.'
'Sponsoring iguanas in Mexico?'
'No.'
'A third Boxing Day sofa?'
'No.'
'Staving off the undeniable vacuity of existence.'
'You've been talking to that rambler Mr Beckett again.'
'Well, he could give Owl a run for his money. Some of what he says--'
'Bank Counts! That's it. If they can send their money to Tigger's Bank Count, they can have it. And they say Tigger can have a bit of it, too.'
'So … they've got their money but they can't get their money.'
'Right.'
'But if they send it far away to where they can't get it, then they can get it.'
'Exactly.'
'What does Tigger do when they steam him about all this?'
'Nothing.'
'Nothing?'
'Well, not exactly nothing. He says that, when one of those messages comes in, he just sits down and eats some spam.'
'Sounds like a plan, McCann.'
'You've been talking to that other rambler Mr Dude.'
'D'you think he ever takes that dressing-gown off?'