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[deranged_gofer]

Oy! George has gone mental. He keeps hitting me over the head with rubber chicken filled with lead. He doesn't seem to knwo who he is or who I am!

He is finally alseep!

Someone, anyone

HELP ME!

-Fred

Comments

[albuspresley]

Do not panic, Mister Weasley. Calmly and quietly run for your life. Then contact St. Mungo's.

[deranged_gofer]

I've been tied to the bed and I can't find my wand. My hands are asleep because of the lack of bloodflow to them. I may be experiencing necrosis to my tissue in my hands right now!

George left the toplap on voice thing command.

[albuspresley]

Where are you? I shall dispatch an owl to St. Mungo's after dinner. It will give me a chance to get rid of Puddles.

[deranged_gofer]

Er, in my bedroom...

[albuspresley]

Excellent. I expect that St. Mungo's will dispatch field agents by some time tomorrow. Enjoy yourself until then.

[deranged_gofer]

Tomorrow? I'll be crippled by then?

Are you trying to handicap the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Sir?

[albuspresley]

I see. Perhaps I shall send it when I come back from lunch. I wish you the best of luck, Mister Weasley.