CRACK Drabble and It's my Birthday and I'll write if I want to *sings*
Typical... for the first time in how long? A year? And My writing muse has finally reared it's ugly head. And it made me write CRACK! A crack drabble! Based on my own artwork even *facepalm* But... it's my birthday and I will write if I want to XD.
Title: Employee of The Month
Characters: Voldemort, random Muggles.
Rating: PG for swearing and insaneness....
Wordcount: 534
Warnings: CRACK!
Summary: It's not easy when you have to hold down another job than just your usual 'darklord-ing'.
Notes: Based on THIS piece I drew a long time ago. I have no idea why the bunny suddenly gnawed my leg in half, but here it is.
Tapping his long slim and skeleton-like fingers against the surface of the desk in front of him, he growled low in his throat and glared at the small microphone attached to the headset he was wearing. His red eyes narrowed and made the wrinkles around them stand out more against his pale, sickly skin.
"She bloody well hung up on me!" He snarled at the nearest of his co-workers.
The other just shrugged with a wry smile. "Get used to it, Darklord. It happens all the time."
"Not to me, it doesn't!" He glared at the pathetic Muggle, who had dared speak to him, then turned his attention back to the contraption on his desk. The others called it a komepuutore and apparently it was meant to work as a piece of parchment and a quill would. It was showing a list of people and numbers and he was supposed to call them with the thing on his head. Why they didn't use fireplaces was beyond his imagination. Idiot Muggles, making everything so much more difficult for themselves.
When he took over the world, the first thing he would do would be to get rid of this infestation of Muggles!
And then he would get rid of this job, really.
Out of all the jobs he could get trough the agency, this was not what he had had in mind. And he had only gotten it in the first place, because his sodding Social Welfare Provisions check didn’t cover the payments to upkeep Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton.
Dialing the next on the list an idea came to his mind and a smirk found its way to his thin lips. With a sibilant hiss, he pulled out his wand from the sleeve of his black robe. When he had first turned up in his regular wear, long black and hooded robe, the Muggles had stared at him with wide eyes. Of course, it wasn't every day they saw the next ruler of the world and the last true descendant of the noble Salazar Slytherin. But really, the way they were staring... it was just pathetic that they could never dream of achieving anything near his status.
He listened to the annoying beeping tone in the headset, waiting for the unsuspecting Muggle at the other end to pick up. When he finally heard the click and the perky 'Hello', he quickly muttered: "Imperio." An amused expression on his face at what was about to happen.
The slow breathing on the other end told him that the spell had hit its target. He spoke again. "You would love to buy the shit I'm selling."
"I-would-love-to-buy-the-shit-you're-selling." The slow and emotionless drone of his victim's voice came through the line.
Smirking again, he put his wand away and steepled the tips of his fingers together and said to no one in particular as he stared at the plaque on the wall. For now that was his goal, to get that plaque, then he would move onto the world. He would get the plaque, he was a Slytherin after all. They always got what they wanted, no matter the means they had to use to get it. "Eeeeexcellent." He hissed.
One month later, he could look at his name on the much desired plaque.
Employee of the Month
Mr. Voldemort Darklord
FIN'
Title: Employee of The Month
Characters: Voldemort, random Muggles.
Rating: PG for swearing and insaneness....
Wordcount: 534
Warnings: CRACK!
Summary: It's not easy when you have to hold down another job than just your usual 'darklord-ing'.
Notes: Based on THIS piece I drew a long time ago. I have no idea why the bunny suddenly gnawed my leg in half, but here it is.
Tapping his long slim and skeleton-like fingers against the surface of the desk in front of him, he growled low in his throat and glared at the small microphone attached to the headset he was wearing. His red eyes narrowed and made the wrinkles around them stand out more against his pale, sickly skin.
"She bloody well hung up on me!" He snarled at the nearest of his co-workers.
The other just shrugged with a wry smile. "Get used to it, Darklord. It happens all the time."
"Not to me, it doesn't!" He glared at the pathetic Muggle, who had dared speak to him, then turned his attention back to the contraption on his desk. The others called it a komepuutore and apparently it was meant to work as a piece of parchment and a quill would. It was showing a list of people and numbers and he was supposed to call them with the thing on his head. Why they didn't use fireplaces was beyond his imagination. Idiot Muggles, making everything so much more difficult for themselves.
When he took over the world, the first thing he would do would be to get rid of this infestation of Muggles!
And then he would get rid of this job, really.
Out of all the jobs he could get trough the agency, this was not what he had had in mind. And he had only gotten it in the first place, because his sodding Social Welfare Provisions check didn’t cover the payments to upkeep Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton.
Dialing the next on the list an idea came to his mind and a smirk found its way to his thin lips. With a sibilant hiss, he pulled out his wand from the sleeve of his black robe. When he had first turned up in his regular wear, long black and hooded robe, the Muggles had stared at him with wide eyes. Of course, it wasn't every day they saw the next ruler of the world and the last true descendant of the noble Salazar Slytherin. But really, the way they were staring... it was just pathetic that they could never dream of achieving anything near his status.
He listened to the annoying beeping tone in the headset, waiting for the unsuspecting Muggle at the other end to pick up. When he finally heard the click and the perky 'Hello', he quickly muttered: "Imperio." An amused expression on his face at what was about to happen.
The slow breathing on the other end told him that the spell had hit its target. He spoke again. "You would love to buy the shit I'm selling."
"I-would-love-to-buy-the-shit-you're-selling." The slow and emotionless drone of his victim's voice came through the line.
Smirking again, he put his wand away and steepled the tips of his fingers together and said to no one in particular as he stared at the plaque on the wall. For now that was his goal, to get that plaque, then he would move onto the world. He would get the plaque, he was a Slytherin after all. They always got what they wanted, no matter the means they had to use to get it. "Eeeeexcellent." He hissed.
One month later, he could look at his name on the much desired plaque.
Employee of the Month
Mr. Voldemort Darklord
FIN'