Muggle Quidditch
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own much, I make nothing, everyone's happy.
A Muggle wanted to play Quidditch. So he painted a soccerball red, two roundish rocks black, and a golfball yellow, and took his plastic-handled broom and stradled it. He waved a stick at the balls and jumped. Nothing happened. So he waved his stick again and jumped. Nothing happened. So he got off the broom, through the balls and rocks in the air one by one and waved his stick. As they fell he got on his broom and jumped. Nothing happened.
Harry Potter was walking down a street when he saw a little Muggle boy waving a stick and throughing rocks and balls in the air. He watched as the boy straddled a broom and jumped. The boy looked dissapointed. "What are you doing?" Harry asked the boy.
"I'm playing Quidditch, like in the movie!" the boy replied. Harry raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and walked away, grinning. He realized he never should have let J.K. Rowling write about his life.
The Muggle boy answered the black-haired man's question, and the man walked away. The boy threw the balls again and jumped again. He got hit on the head by one of the rocks and blacked out.
AN: Okay, so it's short and it's weird. If fanfiction.net had a "Just Plain Weird" genre, this would fit right in. Review, please.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own much, I make nothing, everyone's happy.
A Muggle wanted to play Quidditch. So he painted a soccerball red, two roundish rocks black, and a golfball yellow, and took his plastic-handled broom and stradled it. He waved a stick at the balls and jumped. Nothing happened. So he waved his stick again and jumped. Nothing happened. So he got off the broom, through the balls and rocks in the air one by one and waved his stick. As they fell he got on his broom and jumped. Nothing happened.
Harry Potter was walking down a street when he saw a little Muggle boy waving a stick and throughing rocks and balls in the air. He watched as the boy straddled a broom and jumped. The boy looked dissapointed. "What are you doing?" Harry asked the boy.
"I'm playing Quidditch, like in the movie!" the boy replied. Harry raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and walked away, grinning. He realized he never should have let J.K. Rowling write about his life.
The Muggle boy answered the black-haired man's question, and the man walked away. The boy threw the balls again and jumped again. He got hit on the head by one of the rocks and blacked out.
AN: Okay, so it's short and it's weird. If fanfiction.net had a "Just Plain Weird" genre, this would fit right in. Review, please.