Percy 7
Author: Lash_larue
Title: Percy 7
Pairing: I cannot recall
Rating: Fucked up
Summary: you have got to be kidding me
Warnings:actually sort of mild, for a Percy.
Word Count: There are some, yes.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling She said she was done with these particular ones. Something about the smell....
Percy 7
I’m not done with him yet…he called me names…
****
Percy Weasley was awake.
He was standing in an area that was covered in a foul-looking paste, which not so long ago had been an even fouler thing.
“Say what you will about Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf,” said Cab, shaking his head, “but you have to admit, the little bastard has style.”
“True,’ agreed Bruce, ‘and he’s hung like a fire-truck.”
Bruce really was a cocksmoker.
“Well, guess we’d better pop home, and wash this mess off,” said Cab as he surveyed the carnage on himself.
“I could help you with that,” said Bruce coyly, “it would be my pleasure…”
Cab looked up, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“Well then, let’s go,” he said to Bruce, and he took off. Cab was as fast as a scalded bastard house-elf.
But he was not as fast as Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf.
Ever since he had embraced his heritage, Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf had picked up some speed. Who knew? Just because it’s a stereotype, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Look at his…
“Love too,” slurped Bruce.
Bruce just drifted along in Cab’s wake, and before you could say, “Bruce is really a cocksmoker”, they were back at the Cauldron.
Cab, being an organized sort, decided to spend a little time cleaning up various items of clothing that were… in need of cleaning. “Shall I just get the Mime off of those robes for you, Bruce?” asked Cab politely.
“Thanks, love,’ Bruce cooed, and he slipped out of his robes…
I have no clue what a nekkid Dementor looks like. I already made them skinny, slimy as a motherfucker, warm, and took away their junk. JKR took care of the eyes. So we are left with a skinny, no-eyed, no junked, slimy motherfucker. David Spade it is….
“Good Lord, Bruce,’ exclaimed Cab, ‘you look just like David -fuckin’ -Spade.”
“That was a touch mean, Cab,” said Bruce sadly
“Sorry,” apologized Cab, “care for a shower?”
Bruce’s non-eyes lit up, and he got a big old non-woody. “Love one,” he breathed. Bruce looked up. “Thanks,” he mouthed silently.
You’re welcome Bruce. I made you a cocksmoker; it would be cruel not to feed the beast.
In a little while, Cab found that standing under hot water while having bits of mime sucked off of you by David Spade, wasn’t near as bad as you might think. Cab didn’t even look up.
“Oh,” said Bruce, “there seems to be a bit of Mime right there, Cab, love. I’ll just get that too then, shall I?”
“Call me, Irresponsible,” said Irresponsible Weasley-Bruce. IWB reflected as David Spade sucked lower on his body that if you can’t be with the one you love, that you might as well love the one that you are with. That even a bad love, is better than no love. That any kind of love is better than no love at all. And also… “Bruce my lad, I have to admit this, credit where it’s due. You damn sure can smoke a wiener.”
“Love too,” said David Spade.
“Though still, all things considered, It certainly does suck a bit to be me. Right, Bruce old man?” philosophized Irresponsible.
“Call me Anytime,” purred Anytime.
Irresponsible reflected as the waves of pleasure rolled over him, “They aren’t so bad, Dementors… they’re just misunderstood. The aren’t sightless, soul-sucking fiends at all - they’re sightless cocksmokers whose polarity is reversed. Poor buggers just can’t find Mr. Winky.” Aloud he said, “Except for you, Anytime, dear. You know right where it is all right, you slimy motherfuckin’ cocksmoker you. Mmmm, that’s the ticket….”
“Sllluuurrrrrrrrpppppppppp,” went Anytime.
“Hoooooooo,” said Hermes.
“You, only you…” chattered Mr. Nilsson.
“Just how God-damned sick are you, you twisted old cow?” asked everyone.
****
Bleeding_Slowly, Lash_Larue, RedBearGrl, and Tattooedsappho walked into a bar. Hermes flew in with Mr. Nilsson riding on his back, and landed on the bar. Mr. Nilsson never missed a stroke.
That sick, so far but I’m working on it.
****
After donning fresh clothes, Irresponsible sat at the table to figure up his winnings. Irresponsible really did have a good head for figures. Anytime had a good head for … nevermind.
57 x 290
+
57000 x .25
!!!!!!!!!
Irresponsible was up to his nut-sack in galleons.
“Merlin’s Balls!” exclaimed Irresponsible.
“Where?” asked Anytime eagerly. Anytime really was a cocksmoker. RLY.
“I am simply up to my nut-sack in galleons!” exclaimed Irresponsible.
“Love too,” slurped Anytime.
Sometime later….
Anytime Spade and Irresponsible Weasley-Spade-Anytime headed back to Dr. Flay's. Mimes fled before them, and there were no further close encounters with the white-faced fiends.
Astonishingly, the office was open on Sunday. There was a red-headed receptionist sitting at the desk. She was wearing a black Cashmere sweater, that was rather open at the top. The nameplate on the desk said, “Ms. Plenty O’Boob, Receptive”. “How may I help you?” asked Plenty.
Irresponsible had several ideas, but the slimy hand on his throat effectively silenced them. “I wish to see about rescheduling an appointment with Doctor Flay,” said Irresponsilble formally. Which is of course, the proper way to address a receptionist with a great rack.
“And your name sir?” breathed Plenty.
Anytime whimpered. Apparently, Bruce went oral-fixated on any obvious cue. And Ms. O’boob’s boobs were about as obvious as boobs be.
“Call me, Irresponsible,” said Irresponsible Weasley-Spade-Anytime.
“I don’t see you in the book, Mr. Weasley-Spade-Anytime,’ breathed Ms. O’Boobs.
“Right, I think I might have been going under the name of David Copperfield, when I was here last,” offered Irrespondavid Cooperweasley-Spade-Anytime.
The receptionist had no fuckin’ idea what he meant, but she saw Copperfield down for Monday first thing, and she could read. Barely. “Sluuuurrrrpppp”, went Oral Anytime.
“Yes, Mr. Copperfield, Dr. Flay has you scheduled for an endoscopic procedure at 10 AM Monday,” breathed Ms. O’Boob.
*Drroooollllll* went Anytime.
“Sproinnnngggg”, went Mr. Winky.
“*Cough*,” said Irevid Sponfield, “yes, I shall have to postpone that, if you please.”
“Why?” said Plenty.
“Why the hell not, I would, in an instant,” said Davespon.
“Sorry?” said Plenty.
“Guhh,” said Mr. Winky. “I mean I have to appear in court on a matter of some urgency, have to put this off.”
“Oh, and might I enquire as to the nature of the emergency?”
“Of course, but it’s really none of your fucking business, and I shan’t answer. But feel free to ask, I love the way your tits move when you talk.”
“Well, I never!” sputtered Plenty.
“Bet you have,’ replied Davidsible.
“Likely multiple times,” put in Anytime.
Fuckin’ Dementors. They’ll suck anything. Mind you, Ms. O’Boob was… Guuuuhhhhh.
“You do realize that canceling an appointment this late will result in a charge to your account?” ask Boobs O’plenty.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” asked Ircey Weaseblefield.
“We have to charge you for changing the schedule.”
“Doesn’t matter, I am simply up to my nut-sack in galleons,” replied Irperce Fieldsley.
“What the fuck are you talking about,?’ asked Ms. Giantknockers.
“I’m rich as a bastard,” said Mr. Copperwangle.
“Ummmm,” purred the stacked slut. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Back off, cunt…” hissed Anytime.
“Who said that,” said Hardnipple Mctit.
“Long story, doesn’t matter anyway,” said Pippi Coppertop. “When can we reschedule?”
“Ummm,” said the receptacle, “When would you like it?”
“Gguuuuhhhhhh,” said Anytime and Irresponsible.
“Anytime -“
“Love too,” interjected Anytime.
“except tomorrow,” said RedBearBleedingSaphPurpleCatSor.
(Who’s your momma, gals? ;) )
“I have to testify in court tomorrow,” asserted Percy Weasely. (I was losing track)
“Court…,” breathed Plenty, “have you been, bad?"
“Not me,” said David Weasleycop, “but Dolores Umbridge fucked up and sent Dementors after someone protected by a scalded-bastard house-elf.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” exclaimed the astonished pair. “Do you mean to tell me, that the great cow forgot about Guild contract, section “C”, paragraph three -hundred-twenty-seven, sub-paragraph 14, line 8,?”
“She did indeed, Nip, she did indeed,” said Perved Fieldweasle in unholy glee.
“The bitch is toast. And we’ll have you down on 10:00 AM Thursday, then, shall we Mr. Golden Nut-sack?” purred Plenty, as she aimed her .45’s.
“Guuuuuuuhhhhhhh…,” said Anytime and Irresponsible.
“Right then, see you Thursday,” said one of them, “by the way, your brights are on, dear.”
“Always,” breathed the boobs.
Irresponsible and Anytime reluctantly left the orifice, and headed home. It had been a trying day.
“Fuck,” said Percy, “it’s been a trying day.”
“Love too,” said Bruce the cocksmoker.
“Care to join me in a toad-poison or 12 Bruce old boy?”
“Body-shots?,” queried Bruce.
“Is there any other way?
*********************************
Dolores Umbridge opened the Owl Post.
“Oh, fuck me!” she squeaked.
Some really funky-ass music filled the air….
Chapter 8 - http://lash-larue.livejournal.com/22242.html#cutid1
Title: Percy 7
Pairing: I cannot recall
Rating: Fucked up
Summary: you have got to be kidding me
Warnings:actually sort of mild, for a Percy.
Word Count: There are some, yes.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling She said she was done with these particular ones. Something about the smell....
Percy 7
I’m not done with him yet…he called me names…
****
Percy Weasley was awake.
He was standing in an area that was covered in a foul-looking paste, which not so long ago had been an even fouler thing.
“Say what you will about Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf,” said Cab, shaking his head, “but you have to admit, the little bastard has style.”
“True,’ agreed Bruce, ‘and he’s hung like a fire-truck.”
Bruce really was a cocksmoker.
“Well, guess we’d better pop home, and wash this mess off,” said Cab as he surveyed the carnage on himself.
“I could help you with that,” said Bruce coyly, “it would be my pleasure…”
Cab looked up, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“Well then, let’s go,” he said to Bruce, and he took off. Cab was as fast as a scalded bastard house-elf.
But he was not as fast as Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf.
Ever since he had embraced his heritage, Scalded Black Moses Bastard the Homeboy Hayes-elf had picked up some speed. Who knew? Just because it’s a stereotype, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Look at his…
“Love too,” slurped Bruce.
Bruce just drifted along in Cab’s wake, and before you could say, “Bruce is really a cocksmoker”, they were back at the Cauldron.
Cab, being an organized sort, decided to spend a little time cleaning up various items of clothing that were… in need of cleaning. “Shall I just get the Mime off of those robes for you, Bruce?” asked Cab politely.
“Thanks, love,’ Bruce cooed, and he slipped out of his robes…
I have no clue what a nekkid Dementor looks like. I already made them skinny, slimy as a motherfucker, warm, and took away their junk. JKR took care of the eyes. So we are left with a skinny, no-eyed, no junked, slimy motherfucker. David Spade it is….
“Good Lord, Bruce,’ exclaimed Cab, ‘you look just like David -fuckin’ -Spade.”
“That was a touch mean, Cab,” said Bruce sadly
“Sorry,” apologized Cab, “care for a shower?”
Bruce’s non-eyes lit up, and he got a big old non-woody. “Love one,” he breathed. Bruce looked up. “Thanks,” he mouthed silently.
You’re welcome Bruce. I made you a cocksmoker; it would be cruel not to feed the beast.
In a little while, Cab found that standing under hot water while having bits of mime sucked off of you by David Spade, wasn’t near as bad as you might think. Cab didn’t even look up.
“Oh,” said Bruce, “there seems to be a bit of Mime right there, Cab, love. I’ll just get that too then, shall I?”
“Call me, Irresponsible,” said Irresponsible Weasley-Bruce. IWB reflected as David Spade sucked lower on his body that if you can’t be with the one you love, that you might as well love the one that you are with. That even a bad love, is better than no love. That any kind of love is better than no love at all. And also… “Bruce my lad, I have to admit this, credit where it’s due. You damn sure can smoke a wiener.”
“Love too,” said David Spade.
“Though still, all things considered, It certainly does suck a bit to be me. Right, Bruce old man?” philosophized Irresponsible.
“Call me Anytime,” purred Anytime.
Irresponsible reflected as the waves of pleasure rolled over him, “They aren’t so bad, Dementors… they’re just misunderstood. The aren’t sightless, soul-sucking fiends at all - they’re sightless cocksmokers whose polarity is reversed. Poor buggers just can’t find Mr. Winky.” Aloud he said, “Except for you, Anytime, dear. You know right where it is all right, you slimy motherfuckin’ cocksmoker you. Mmmm, that’s the ticket….”
“Sllluuurrrrrrrrpppppppppp,” went Anytime.
“Hoooooooo,” said Hermes.
“You, only you…” chattered Mr. Nilsson.
“Just how God-damned sick are you, you twisted old cow?” asked everyone.
****
Bleeding_Slowly, Lash_Larue, RedBearGrl, and Tattooedsappho walked into a bar. Hermes flew in with Mr. Nilsson riding on his back, and landed on the bar. Mr. Nilsson never missed a stroke.
That sick, so far but I’m working on it.
****
After donning fresh clothes, Irresponsible sat at the table to figure up his winnings. Irresponsible really did have a good head for figures. Anytime had a good head for … nevermind.
57 x 290
+
57000 x .25
!!!!!!!!!
Irresponsible was up to his nut-sack in galleons.
“Merlin’s Balls!” exclaimed Irresponsible.
“Where?” asked Anytime eagerly. Anytime really was a cocksmoker. RLY.
“I am simply up to my nut-sack in galleons!” exclaimed Irresponsible.
“Love too,” slurped Anytime.
Sometime later….
Anytime Spade and Irresponsible Weasley-Spade-Anytime headed back to Dr. Flay's. Mimes fled before them, and there were no further close encounters with the white-faced fiends.
Astonishingly, the office was open on Sunday. There was a red-headed receptionist sitting at the desk. She was wearing a black Cashmere sweater, that was rather open at the top. The nameplate on the desk said, “Ms. Plenty O’Boob, Receptive”. “How may I help you?” asked Plenty.
Irresponsible had several ideas, but the slimy hand on his throat effectively silenced them. “I wish to see about rescheduling an appointment with Doctor Flay,” said Irresponsilble formally. Which is of course, the proper way to address a receptionist with a great rack.
“And your name sir?” breathed Plenty.
Anytime whimpered. Apparently, Bruce went oral-fixated on any obvious cue. And Ms. O’boob’s boobs were about as obvious as boobs be.
“Call me, Irresponsible,” said Irresponsible Weasley-Spade-Anytime.
“I don’t see you in the book, Mr. Weasley-Spade-Anytime,’ breathed Ms. O’Boobs.
“Right, I think I might have been going under the name of David Copperfield, when I was here last,” offered Irrespondavid Cooperweasley-Spade-Anytime.
The receptionist had no fuckin’ idea what he meant, but she saw Copperfield down for Monday first thing, and she could read. Barely. “Sluuuurrrrpppp”, went Oral Anytime.
“Yes, Mr. Copperfield, Dr. Flay has you scheduled for an endoscopic procedure at 10 AM Monday,” breathed Ms. O’Boob.
*Drroooollllll* went Anytime.
“Sproinnnngggg”, went Mr. Winky.
“*Cough*,” said Irevid Sponfield, “yes, I shall have to postpone that, if you please.”
“Why?” said Plenty.
“Why the hell not, I would, in an instant,” said Davespon.
“Sorry?” said Plenty.
“Guhh,” said Mr. Winky. “I mean I have to appear in court on a matter of some urgency, have to put this off.”
“Oh, and might I enquire as to the nature of the emergency?”
“Of course, but it’s really none of your fucking business, and I shan’t answer. But feel free to ask, I love the way your tits move when you talk.”
“Well, I never!” sputtered Plenty.
“Bet you have,’ replied Davidsible.
“Likely multiple times,” put in Anytime.
Fuckin’ Dementors. They’ll suck anything. Mind you, Ms. O’Boob was… Guuuuhhhhh.
“You do realize that canceling an appointment this late will result in a charge to your account?” ask Boobs O’plenty.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” asked Ircey Weaseblefield.
“We have to charge you for changing the schedule.”
“Doesn’t matter, I am simply up to my nut-sack in galleons,” replied Irperce Fieldsley.
“What the fuck are you talking about,?’ asked Ms. Giantknockers.
“I’m rich as a bastard,” said Mr. Copperwangle.
“Ummmm,” purred the stacked slut. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Back off, cunt…” hissed Anytime.
“Who said that,” said Hardnipple Mctit.
“Long story, doesn’t matter anyway,” said Pippi Coppertop. “When can we reschedule?”
“Ummm,” said the receptacle, “When would you like it?”
“Gguuuuhhhhhh,” said Anytime and Irresponsible.
“Anytime -“
“Love too,” interjected Anytime.
“except tomorrow,” said RedBearBleedingSaphPurpleCatSor.
(Who’s your momma, gals? ;) )
“I have to testify in court tomorrow,” asserted Percy Weasely. (I was losing track)
“Court…,” breathed Plenty, “have you been, bad?"
“Not me,” said David Weasleycop, “but Dolores Umbridge fucked up and sent Dementors after someone protected by a scalded-bastard house-elf.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” exclaimed the astonished pair. “Do you mean to tell me, that the great cow forgot about Guild contract, section “C”, paragraph three -hundred-twenty-seven, sub-paragraph 14, line 8,?”
“She did indeed, Nip, she did indeed,” said Perved Fieldweasle in unholy glee.
“The bitch is toast. And we’ll have you down on 10:00 AM Thursday, then, shall we Mr. Golden Nut-sack?” purred Plenty, as she aimed her .45’s.
“Guuuuuuuhhhhhhh…,” said Anytime and Irresponsible.
“Right then, see you Thursday,” said one of them, “by the way, your brights are on, dear.”
“Always,” breathed the boobs.
Irresponsible and Anytime reluctantly left the orifice, and headed home. It had been a trying day.
“Fuck,” said Percy, “it’s been a trying day.”
“Love too,” said Bruce the cocksmoker.
“Care to join me in a toad-poison or 12 Bruce old boy?”
“Body-shots?,” queried Bruce.
“Is there any other way?
*********************************
Dolores Umbridge opened the Owl Post.
“Oh, fuck me!” she squeaked.
Some really funky-ass music filled the air….
Chapter 8 - http://lash-larue.livejournal.com/22242.html#cutid1