Sense of humour resurrected
Knocking around my hard drive, I have several unfinished pieces of work. Not counting Home which is a whole different animal, these pieces are mostly little snippet ideas that demanded writing and then just fizzled out. I've had a bit of a rummage and found this one which I started just after Deathly Hallows came out. I'm not really sure why it lay around for so long, cos I think it's quite funny. So anyway, I've finished it now and have decided to release it into internet-land.
This is a parody thing based on the idea that the HP characters are real and the book is a sort of script for them. If you've read any of Jasper Fforde's stuff, you'll know the idea. Anyone who's a fan of my weird sense of humour (Ron and the Beanstalk Potion, the restaurant scene in Project: Potions_Master - that sort of thing) will probably appreciate this.
THE SCENE: A board room in a hotel. The carcasses of sandwich platters lie in the centre of the table with nothing remaining but soggy egg and a few curling pieces of forlorn lettuce. Several people are seated around the table: A smart-looking blonde woman is at the head; a young man with scruffy black hair at the foot, flanked by a lanky red-headed young man and a young woman with a messy pony-tail. Others include: a variety of red-heads including a middle-aged couple, identical twins and a pretty young woman; a striking blonde woman who is devouring a takeaway burger; a grey-haired man with a younger punk woman; an old man who appears to be asleep with his head on the table; an icy-looking blonde family; a few ghosts; some sinister figures in long black cloaks which obscure their faces. They are, of course, the author and characters of HARRY POTTER, with one obvious absence.
HARRY (muttering): He’s late again.
HERMIONE: You need to make allowance, Harry. He’s a very, um, sensitive individual.
HARRY: Sensitive my arse. You’re only saying that because of all that bloody fanfic. You’ve started to believe all the SS/HG hype. Next thing we know, you’ll be shacking up with him and having fifteen darling little precocious ugly children.
FLEUR: Oi, eating here! I mean barf-a-roonie. (She glares at the trio then takes another vast mouthful of her Big Mac.)
RON: Yeah, Hermione, do you fancy him?
HERMIONE: Look, will you shut the fuck up, Ron? I mean, he’s old enough to be my dad, he’s got serious hygiene issues and the nose….
GINNY: Yeah, well you know what they say about men with big noses! I wouldn’t mind giving old Sev a tumble if that…
The door opens to reveal a glowering figure in artistically ripped jeans and an ancient Iron Maiden t-shirt. He slumps into a convenient chair and absently scratches his crotch. GINNY giggles.
JKR: Right, now that we’re all here. (She throws a stack of folders down on the table and they are dutifully passed around all present. When the folders come to DUMBLEDORE, he has to be prodded awake.)
DUMBLEDORE: What? Hmmm? Why are you giving me the bloody thing, Jo? I’m dead for fucks sake. Don’t I get a breather?
THE GHOSTS OF JAMES AND LILY POTTER: Oh come on, Albus, you should know better than that. That’s never stopped her.
TONKS: Hang on a second, we die? We fucking die? I mean, after all the shit with Remus getting sacked and losing all his friends and trying not to love me, not to mention the fucking werewolf crap… and then we just die? That sucks cock, Jo.
JKR: Sorry, sweetie, but you do get to get hitched and have a baby. This is the last book. Lots of you have to bite it. And try to read from the start, there’s a love.
HERMIONE (who has been meticulously reading from the start, like a bloody swot): Oh, so the big wedding thing is for them?
JKR: Um, no, that’s for Bill and Fleur.
REMUS: So we die and we don’t even get a big wedding? Oh fuck this. We deserve a proper wedding!
JKR: Look, any more crap out of you and I’ll make you both cameo parts, ok?
REMUS and TONKS subside, muttering angrily.
JKR (cheerfully): Look, if it’s any consolation, the wedding gets raided by Death Eaters.
FLEUR: Oh great, Death Eaters. (She fishes around in the bag for the last of the french fries.) They’re a bundle of bloody chuckles. And I bet they don’t even bring presents, bastards.
HARRY (raising his hand): Sorry, Jo, I’ve been skimming and maybe I’ve got the wrong end of the stick, but is half this book set in a tent?
JKR (defensively): It’s a wizard tent. It’s magic. And it comes out of a magic handbag.
HARRY: Yeah, but my point is that it’s a tent. Hermione, Ron and I spend half the book buggering about in a tent. What is this, Carry On Camping?
RON (sotto voce): With less tits.
SNAPE (less sotto voce): Bloody shame. (He turns a page then sits up in his chair). Headmaster? Fantastic, maybe I do get to see some tits.
DUMBLEDORE: Never got to see any when I was Headmaster. (He dozes off again)
JKR: Have we quite finished, kiddies? Bella, could you please look at your folder?
One of the black-robed figures is absorbed in knitting what appears to be a pink angora sweater. It stops for a moment and looks up.
BELLATRIX: Am I still a loony?
JKR: Yes, but…
BELLATRIX: Do I fawn over the Dark Lord, torture people then die fighting someone embarrassing?
JKR: Well yes, but…
BELLATRIX: Sorted. (She resumes her knitting)
RON: So what exactly are the Deathly Hallows again?
HARRY: It’s the title of the book, dumbass.
RON pushes HARRY off his chair. There is a brief scuffle, during which the remainder of the sandwiches get knocked on the floor and BELLATRIX drops a stitch. DUMBLEDORE wakes briefly then drops off again, his head lolling against the shoulder of the blonde man.
LUCIUS MALFOY: Aw, bless.
NARCISSA MALFOY: Don’t encourage him, dear. You know about the rumours, although I daresay it’s just fan nonsense.
JKR: Um, yes, about that...
RON (loudly): Anyway, HALLOWS!?
JKR: They’re mythical things that convey huge amounts of power and it turns out Harry’s already got one. Oh, and he gets bequeathed another one by Dumbledore but he doesn’t know it.
HARRY: So we spend ages buggering about in a tent looking for things I’ve already got? Bloody marvellous.
HERMIONE: So what about the horcruxes then? Or is it horcri?
SNAPE: Bollocks, who cares? Do I get the girl?
MOST OF THE TABLE: What girl?
SNAPE: Any bloody girl! I’ve been a miserable git for six books despite being a massive sex symbol. I deserve to get the girl.
LUCIUS (flicking through): Looks like you get the snake, mate.
SNAPE: What?
REMUS (bitterly): At least you get a death scene. Poor bloody tragic misunderstood...
JKR: I warned you!
HARRY: Is there anyone here who doesn’t die? Apart from me, obviously.
JKR: Well, about that...
DRACO MALFOY (delighted): You die! You actually die!
HARRY: I can’t die! I’m the chosen one. I’m meant to kill Voldemort then marry Ginny and have two incredibly bright children called Lily and James, and be Minister for Magic or something...
VOLDEMORT: Ooh, maybe I get to marry Ginny.
GINNY (giving him a long, appraising look): Naah.
JKR: You only die for a bit.
REMUS: Oh so he gets to come back from the dead.
JKR (loudly): Harry has to die because he’s a sort-of Horcrux. Come on guys, half the fanfic world worked that one out.
FRED WEASLEY (or possibly GEORGE): Told you. You owe me a quid.
GEORGE WEASLEY (or possibly FRED): Oh, but you die. So you owe me a quid.
HERMIONE: So we are looking for the Horcruxes? And the Hallows. Right. Is it just me, or is anyone else enormously confused?
HARRY (whining): I can’t die...
RON pushes him off his chair again.
VOLDEMORT (attempting to peer at a page through bifocals but they keep falling off his face): Is it me, or is anyone else confused by the ending?
JKR: It’s perfectly straightforward. Albus Dumbledore is the master of the Elder Wand, so whoever defeats him is its new master. And then whoever defeats that new master is the new new master. And so on.
SNAPE: So I killed him, so it’s me.
VOLDEMORT: And I kill you, so why doesn’t it work for me?
NAGINI hisses.
ALMOST EVERYONE AT THE TABLE: What?
HARRY: She said “no you don’t, I kill him”.
SNAPE: Fair point.
VOLDEMORT: But you don’t even have hands. Look, opposable thumbs! Ha ha!
JKR: Anyway, it wasn’t you who truly defeated Dumbledore, it was Draco, and then Harry defeated him so technically he’s the master of it.
REMUS (fake coughs): Plotdevice.
JKR: Look, I’ve had just about enough of...
The door swings open and an elderly man in an expensive suit saunters in. He is immaculate, long white hair in a neat ponytail down his back. He gives JKR a quick peck on the cheek, picks up a folder and flips through it quickly.
ABERFORTH: Right, goat-fucker jokes, goat Patronus, nice touch darling. No probs. Anything else?
JKR: Well, seeing as how you’re always such a good sport, I thought I’d throw in some saving the day.
EVERYONE ELSE AT THE TABLE: What the fuck???
~ END ~
This is a parody thing based on the idea that the HP characters are real and the book is a sort of script for them. If you've read any of Jasper Fforde's stuff, you'll know the idea. Anyone who's a fan of my weird sense of humour (Ron and the Beanstalk Potion, the restaurant scene in Project: Potions_Master - that sort of thing) will probably appreciate this.
THE SCENE: A board room in a hotel. The carcasses of sandwich platters lie in the centre of the table with nothing remaining but soggy egg and a few curling pieces of forlorn lettuce. Several people are seated around the table: A smart-looking blonde woman is at the head; a young man with scruffy black hair at the foot, flanked by a lanky red-headed young man and a young woman with a messy pony-tail. Others include: a variety of red-heads including a middle-aged couple, identical twins and a pretty young woman; a striking blonde woman who is devouring a takeaway burger; a grey-haired man with a younger punk woman; an old man who appears to be asleep with his head on the table; an icy-looking blonde family; a few ghosts; some sinister figures in long black cloaks which obscure their faces. They are, of course, the author and characters of HARRY POTTER, with one obvious absence.
HARRY (muttering): He’s late again.
HERMIONE: You need to make allowance, Harry. He’s a very, um, sensitive individual.
HARRY: Sensitive my arse. You’re only saying that because of all that bloody fanfic. You’ve started to believe all the SS/HG hype. Next thing we know, you’ll be shacking up with him and having fifteen darling little precocious ugly children.
FLEUR: Oi, eating here! I mean barf-a-roonie. (She glares at the trio then takes another vast mouthful of her Big Mac.)
RON: Yeah, Hermione, do you fancy him?
HERMIONE: Look, will you shut the fuck up, Ron? I mean, he’s old enough to be my dad, he’s got serious hygiene issues and the nose….
GINNY: Yeah, well you know what they say about men with big noses! I wouldn’t mind giving old Sev a tumble if that…
The door opens to reveal a glowering figure in artistically ripped jeans and an ancient Iron Maiden t-shirt. He slumps into a convenient chair and absently scratches his crotch. GINNY giggles.
JKR: Right, now that we’re all here. (She throws a stack of folders down on the table and they are dutifully passed around all present. When the folders come to DUMBLEDORE, he has to be prodded awake.)
DUMBLEDORE: What? Hmmm? Why are you giving me the bloody thing, Jo? I’m dead for fucks sake. Don’t I get a breather?
THE GHOSTS OF JAMES AND LILY POTTER: Oh come on, Albus, you should know better than that. That’s never stopped her.
TONKS: Hang on a second, we die? We fucking die? I mean, after all the shit with Remus getting sacked and losing all his friends and trying not to love me, not to mention the fucking werewolf crap… and then we just die? That sucks cock, Jo.
JKR: Sorry, sweetie, but you do get to get hitched and have a baby. This is the last book. Lots of you have to bite it. And try to read from the start, there’s a love.
HERMIONE (who has been meticulously reading from the start, like a bloody swot): Oh, so the big wedding thing is for them?
JKR: Um, no, that’s for Bill and Fleur.
REMUS: So we die and we don’t even get a big wedding? Oh fuck this. We deserve a proper wedding!
JKR: Look, any more crap out of you and I’ll make you both cameo parts, ok?
REMUS and TONKS subside, muttering angrily.
JKR (cheerfully): Look, if it’s any consolation, the wedding gets raided by Death Eaters.
FLEUR: Oh great, Death Eaters. (She fishes around in the bag for the last of the french fries.) They’re a bundle of bloody chuckles. And I bet they don’t even bring presents, bastards.
HARRY (raising his hand): Sorry, Jo, I’ve been skimming and maybe I’ve got the wrong end of the stick, but is half this book set in a tent?
JKR (defensively): It’s a wizard tent. It’s magic. And it comes out of a magic handbag.
HARRY: Yeah, but my point is that it’s a tent. Hermione, Ron and I spend half the book buggering about in a tent. What is this, Carry On Camping?
RON (sotto voce): With less tits.
SNAPE (less sotto voce): Bloody shame. (He turns a page then sits up in his chair). Headmaster? Fantastic, maybe I do get to see some tits.
DUMBLEDORE: Never got to see any when I was Headmaster. (He dozes off again)
JKR: Have we quite finished, kiddies? Bella, could you please look at your folder?
One of the black-robed figures is absorbed in knitting what appears to be a pink angora sweater. It stops for a moment and looks up.
BELLATRIX: Am I still a loony?
JKR: Yes, but…
BELLATRIX: Do I fawn over the Dark Lord, torture people then die fighting someone embarrassing?
JKR: Well yes, but…
BELLATRIX: Sorted. (She resumes her knitting)
RON: So what exactly are the Deathly Hallows again?
HARRY: It’s the title of the book, dumbass.
RON pushes HARRY off his chair. There is a brief scuffle, during which the remainder of the sandwiches get knocked on the floor and BELLATRIX drops a stitch. DUMBLEDORE wakes briefly then drops off again, his head lolling against the shoulder of the blonde man.
LUCIUS MALFOY: Aw, bless.
NARCISSA MALFOY: Don’t encourage him, dear. You know about the rumours, although I daresay it’s just fan nonsense.
JKR: Um, yes, about that...
RON (loudly): Anyway, HALLOWS!?
JKR: They’re mythical things that convey huge amounts of power and it turns out Harry’s already got one. Oh, and he gets bequeathed another one by Dumbledore but he doesn’t know it.
HARRY: So we spend ages buggering about in a tent looking for things I’ve already got? Bloody marvellous.
HERMIONE: So what about the horcruxes then? Or is it horcri?
SNAPE: Bollocks, who cares? Do I get the girl?
MOST OF THE TABLE: What girl?
SNAPE: Any bloody girl! I’ve been a miserable git for six books despite being a massive sex symbol. I deserve to get the girl.
LUCIUS (flicking through): Looks like you get the snake, mate.
SNAPE: What?
REMUS (bitterly): At least you get a death scene. Poor bloody tragic misunderstood...
JKR: I warned you!
HARRY: Is there anyone here who doesn’t die? Apart from me, obviously.
JKR: Well, about that...
DRACO MALFOY (delighted): You die! You actually die!
HARRY: I can’t die! I’m the chosen one. I’m meant to kill Voldemort then marry Ginny and have two incredibly bright children called Lily and James, and be Minister for Magic or something...
VOLDEMORT: Ooh, maybe I get to marry Ginny.
GINNY (giving him a long, appraising look): Naah.
JKR: You only die for a bit.
REMUS: Oh so he gets to come back from the dead.
JKR (loudly): Harry has to die because he’s a sort-of Horcrux. Come on guys, half the fanfic world worked that one out.
FRED WEASLEY (or possibly GEORGE): Told you. You owe me a quid.
GEORGE WEASLEY (or possibly FRED): Oh, but you die. So you owe me a quid.
HERMIONE: So we are looking for the Horcruxes? And the Hallows. Right. Is it just me, or is anyone else enormously confused?
HARRY (whining): I can’t die...
RON pushes him off his chair again.
VOLDEMORT (attempting to peer at a page through bifocals but they keep falling off his face): Is it me, or is anyone else confused by the ending?
JKR: It’s perfectly straightforward. Albus Dumbledore is the master of the Elder Wand, so whoever defeats him is its new master. And then whoever defeats that new master is the new new master. And so on.
SNAPE: So I killed him, so it’s me.
VOLDEMORT: And I kill you, so why doesn’t it work for me?
NAGINI hisses.
ALMOST EVERYONE AT THE TABLE: What?
HARRY: She said “no you don’t, I kill him”.
SNAPE: Fair point.
VOLDEMORT: But you don’t even have hands. Look, opposable thumbs! Ha ha!
JKR: Anyway, it wasn’t you who truly defeated Dumbledore, it was Draco, and then Harry defeated him so technically he’s the master of it.
REMUS (fake coughs): Plotdevice.
JKR: Look, I’ve had just about enough of...
The door swings open and an elderly man in an expensive suit saunters in. He is immaculate, long white hair in a neat ponytail down his back. He gives JKR a quick peck on the cheek, picks up a folder and flips through it quickly.
ABERFORTH: Right, goat-fucker jokes, goat Patronus, nice touch darling. No probs. Anything else?
JKR: Well, seeing as how you’re always such a good sport, I thought I’d throw in some saving the day.
EVERYONE ELSE AT THE TABLE: What the fuck???
~ END ~