Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even this computer. *shifty eyes* *leaps out the nearest window, mission impossible style music playing in the background*
A/N: Fear my insanity! This comes from a lack of sleep, caffiene, and a generally insane personality. My friend, K. Ra (aka Keira), helped me greatly on this. I think we did a nice job so far. ^.~
Now revised slightly! *oooh, ahhh!*
------------
Harry Potter and the Order of the Kleenex
Chapter 1 - Of Dudley Rapping and Dementors
Sitting in the bushes outside of a window in Privet Drive, was an extremely attractive black haired boy...his name was Harry Potter, and not only was he a wizard, but he was grand pimp master of Hogwarts, but that wasn't the point right now - the point was what he was hearing inside...
"Oh, Mervin..." said a seductive female voice inside the house. "How do you do that with your tongue?"
Harry smiled to himself, playing around with his own tongue, wondering what Mervin was doing.
"I am Tom, I have impregnated your wife," suddenly blurted a new, deep, sexy voice inside.
"Oh dear god!" thought Harry, "How could he do such a thing?!"
Suddenly, without warning, moaning and groaning is heard from inside. Sitting in front of the television sat a fairly overweight man with plum-colored cheeks- obviously embarrassed by the display on the television.
Back outside the window, Harry was chanting "All hail the pimp king, the pimp king, the pimp king..." under his breath.
"We now interrupt this show to bring you breaking news..."
Both Harry and the man inside groaned.
The newscaster on television cleared his throat noisily and began, "There's a serious flood situation in Minneapolis..."
"I thought we were in England," muttered Harry under his breath.
The man inside crept to the window and peered down below it upon hearing Harry's faint voice. "I see you, you naughty boy..."
Harry let out a little gasp of fear. It was his sexually aroused, incest-obsessed uncle, Vernon!
"Now you get out of those bushes right now..."
Harry let out a terrified little squeak again. Now that his uncle had just been aroused by watching borderline soap opera porno, Harry was as good as fucked!
Uncle Vernon smiled. His purple-hued cheeks looked like giant grapes, about to burst. His squat little head sat proudly on his overly-broad shoulders. Harry thought he looked a bit like a fruit salad.
He had to do something, ANYTHING - he could not get into bed with Uncle Vernon. That was just nasty - plus, fanfiction.net didn't accept NC-17 fanfictions anymore, and incest ones were definitely not rated R - thankfully, a loud crack sounded through the neighborhood.
Harry squirmed out of his uncle's death-grip, muttering, "Better go check that out, 'kay?" and ran pell-mell out the door.
After he got over the shock of almost being sexed up by his uncle, he began to really wonder what the sound was. "Maybe it was," he paused dramatically and the camera zoomed in for a close-up. "VOLDEMORT!" Silence filled the night, an almost tangible presence. "Nah," he said suddenly, in answer to himself.
***
Young Harry walked down the street, trying vainly to erase the images of his uncle from his head. He reached a small children's playground- a favorite spot for him (he had a secret fetish about playground equipment, you see). He plopped down in a swing, and leaned back... before remembering that swings usually do not have back-rests, and almost falling on to his tender little ass. He glowered at the dirt below him, as if it was its fault that he almost fell over.
Suddenly, rounding a corner, swaggered his cousin Dudley, surrounded by his rag-tag group of neighborhood boys he called the "West Side". As he walked, Dudley was bobbing his chubby little head, the folds of fat on his neck crinkling. His companions were making "rap noises" in their hands. "Uh oh," Harry muttered. "Time for that inevitable musical number, isnt it?"
"I use to be all ugly", Dudley sang.
"but now I'm all buff
Why?
I 'unno, ask JK rowling- she knows this stuff."
Harry dry-retched a little at his horrible song.
"Yo, Big D!" one of Dudley's groupies called to him. "I gotta go home now... Mommy's making baked potatoes tonight."
"I can dig it," Said Dudley, for he realised the l337 skillz of the baked potatoes and knew that no pimp could ever resist.
One by one, the other boys drifted off, hoping to persuade their own mothers to make baked potatoes. For if there is one thing that turns a pimp on, it's a baked potato.
Dudley stood and stared into the crystal-clear night sky for a moment before sighing and starting home.
"Big D, eh?" laughed a voice behind the large boy.
He scowled. "Shut up, Pothead," he retorted.
"Oho! How original. Only about 400 fan fiction authors have used that phrase already."
Dudley could think of nothing to say to this, for his cousin spoke the truth.
Harry raced to catch up with his cousin. "So how's your little gang doin', eh, Big D?" he said mockingly.
"None of your business."
"Found any chicks, pimp daddy?" Harry laughed.
Dudley arched one heavily furred brow. "As a matter of fact, I have," he snorted. "They're all very nice in bed. Dont make nearly as much noise as YOU do, Potter."
Harry flushed bright red. How dare he! Harry thought. He promised not to bring that up again! That bastard!
"Erm... what do you mean?"
"I mean all that racket you make in your room at night."
"Ohhh," Harry sighed, relieved.
They continued on in silence, but the hatred between the two could be sensed by even the most oblivious idiot. For neither of them realised that it is not the color of our skin, the magic in our bloods, or our overall skills that matter-- what REALLY matters about a person is our pokemon cards.
Suddenly, Dudley burst out laughing.
"What's so funny, bitch?" Harry groaned, arching a brow.
"Oh... I was just thinking about how badly Eminem sung in that song, Hailie's Song," he cackled again, his voice cutting through the silent night.
Harry was outraged. "Dont you be talkin' 'bout Eminem," he said, hands on his hips.
"And what if I dont stop?" Dudley sneered.
"Then I'll do THIS!" Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Dudley's throat. The chubby boy gulped. "I... I'll tell mom!" he whimpered pathetically.
Suddenly, the street lights all around them went out. Dudley screamed and reached out for the nearest thing to cling to, like a small child. He then realized he was clinging to Harry's hand.
"Ugh, I cant believe I'm holding your hand..." he muttered in disgust.
"Um, that's not my hand, Dud..."
Dudley went pale, and immediately started wiping his hand off on his trousers, making little "ew ew ew" noises as he did so.
Ignoring Dudley, Harry reached out into the darkness with his mind, concentrating on finding the source of the darkness. Suddenly, he felt tingly all over. Before him stood a creature in a long, pink robe, its face hidden by a hood.
A dementor! his mind screamed at him.
The pink being shuffled toward him, making little clicking noises for some reason. Harry then noticed that it wore high heels- glittering, red high-heels.
The creature removed its hood and smiled down at Harry, revealing itself to have a round, perfectly formed face framed with blond curls.
"Lyke, omfg, itz lyke, Harry Potter!" the dementor squealed. Harry's eyes widened as he realized what exactly this creature was- a chat-speaking airhead.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" He screamed in terror.
"So, can I lyke, kiss u, Harry?" she said, smacking her lips. "I gotta lyke, kiss u so I can, lyke, kill u. Itz lyke, a part of teh plot, okiez?"
Meanwhile, Dudley was staring in awe at the girls. He lay down and got into what he called his "pimping position", preparing to put on the moves.
"CLOSE YOUR MOUTH DUDLEY!" Harry called out, upon seeing the girls coming after him - all applying fresh Bonne Bell Lipsmackers on their lips.
Dudley just glared at him.
Even through his hatred for his cousin, Harry knew it was up to him to save both their sorry little asses.
"MOON TIARA MAGIC!!!" screamed Harry, chucking his wand at the dementors, landing just short of their feet. They giggled their shrill, mind-splitting giggles, and all started talking at once.
Meanwhile, Harry knew he had done SOMETHING wrong...
"Lyke, OMFG! He's not, lyke, serious, ryte? I meen..."
"And she sed..."
"And so I'm lyke, wateva..."
Harry clutched his head in pain, the high-pitched squeals and giggles torturing his mind. He wanted to die, just from hearing their mindless drivle.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I remember now!"
Gathering every last ounce of strength he had left in him, he raised his wand (the kind used for spells, you guttermind) and screamed out to the night, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Still, it didnt work. (author obstains from inserting crude comment about male genitalia here)
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" yelled a new voice, female, yet croaky.
A silver whisp flew spiraling upward into the sky. Just above the dementor's heads, it took on the form of a bird, and it proceeded to...
Crap on their heads.
"Lyke, OMG my hair is lyke, totally messed up now!" they all screeched in unison. And as quickly as they'd appeared, they vanished into the night.
"Harry!" cried the same, croaky voice. "Are you all right?"
"Mrs. Figg?" Harry stared in disbelief. "I didnt know you were a witch..."
"I'm not- I'm a squib," she replied breathlessly. "Oh, Mundungus KNEW I couldnt handle these... Wraiths? No, oh what are they called in this book...?"
"Dementors?" Harry offered helpfully.
"Right, right. Dementors. Anycrap, we'd better get you home before they attack again."
And with that, the two dragged a protesting and screaming Dudley back toward number four privet drive...
------------
Review and I'll give you a cookie XD
A/N: Fear my insanity! This comes from a lack of sleep, caffiene, and a generally insane personality. My friend, K. Ra (aka Keira), helped me greatly on this. I think we did a nice job so far. ^.~
Now revised slightly! *oooh, ahhh!*
------------
Harry Potter and the Order of the Kleenex
Chapter 1 - Of Dudley Rapping and Dementors
Sitting in the bushes outside of a window in Privet Drive, was an extremely attractive black haired boy...his name was Harry Potter, and not only was he a wizard, but he was grand pimp master of Hogwarts, but that wasn't the point right now - the point was what he was hearing inside...
"Oh, Mervin..." said a seductive female voice inside the house. "How do you do that with your tongue?"
Harry smiled to himself, playing around with his own tongue, wondering what Mervin was doing.
"I am Tom, I have impregnated your wife," suddenly blurted a new, deep, sexy voice inside.
"Oh dear god!" thought Harry, "How could he do such a thing?!"
Suddenly, without warning, moaning and groaning is heard from inside. Sitting in front of the television sat a fairly overweight man with plum-colored cheeks- obviously embarrassed by the display on the television.
Back outside the window, Harry was chanting "All hail the pimp king, the pimp king, the pimp king..." under his breath.
"We now interrupt this show to bring you breaking news..."
Both Harry and the man inside groaned.
The newscaster on television cleared his throat noisily and began, "There's a serious flood situation in Minneapolis..."
"I thought we were in England," muttered Harry under his breath.
The man inside crept to the window and peered down below it upon hearing Harry's faint voice. "I see you, you naughty boy..."
Harry let out a little gasp of fear. It was his sexually aroused, incest-obsessed uncle, Vernon!
"Now you get out of those bushes right now..."
Harry let out a terrified little squeak again. Now that his uncle had just been aroused by watching borderline soap opera porno, Harry was as good as fucked!
Uncle Vernon smiled. His purple-hued cheeks looked like giant grapes, about to burst. His squat little head sat proudly on his overly-broad shoulders. Harry thought he looked a bit like a fruit salad.
He had to do something, ANYTHING - he could not get into bed with Uncle Vernon. That was just nasty - plus, fanfiction.net didn't accept NC-17 fanfictions anymore, and incest ones were definitely not rated R - thankfully, a loud crack sounded through the neighborhood.
Harry squirmed out of his uncle's death-grip, muttering, "Better go check that out, 'kay?" and ran pell-mell out the door.
After he got over the shock of almost being sexed up by his uncle, he began to really wonder what the sound was. "Maybe it was," he paused dramatically and the camera zoomed in for a close-up. "VOLDEMORT!" Silence filled the night, an almost tangible presence. "Nah," he said suddenly, in answer to himself.
***
Young Harry walked down the street, trying vainly to erase the images of his uncle from his head. He reached a small children's playground- a favorite spot for him (he had a secret fetish about playground equipment, you see). He plopped down in a swing, and leaned back... before remembering that swings usually do not have back-rests, and almost falling on to his tender little ass. He glowered at the dirt below him, as if it was its fault that he almost fell over.
Suddenly, rounding a corner, swaggered his cousin Dudley, surrounded by his rag-tag group of neighborhood boys he called the "West Side". As he walked, Dudley was bobbing his chubby little head, the folds of fat on his neck crinkling. His companions were making "rap noises" in their hands. "Uh oh," Harry muttered. "Time for that inevitable musical number, isnt it?"
"I use to be all ugly", Dudley sang.
"but now I'm all buff
Why?
I 'unno, ask JK rowling- she knows this stuff."
Harry dry-retched a little at his horrible song.
"Yo, Big D!" one of Dudley's groupies called to him. "I gotta go home now... Mommy's making baked potatoes tonight."
"I can dig it," Said Dudley, for he realised the l337 skillz of the baked potatoes and knew that no pimp could ever resist.
One by one, the other boys drifted off, hoping to persuade their own mothers to make baked potatoes. For if there is one thing that turns a pimp on, it's a baked potato.
Dudley stood and stared into the crystal-clear night sky for a moment before sighing and starting home.
"Big D, eh?" laughed a voice behind the large boy.
He scowled. "Shut up, Pothead," he retorted.
"Oho! How original. Only about 400 fan fiction authors have used that phrase already."
Dudley could think of nothing to say to this, for his cousin spoke the truth.
Harry raced to catch up with his cousin. "So how's your little gang doin', eh, Big D?" he said mockingly.
"None of your business."
"Found any chicks, pimp daddy?" Harry laughed.
Dudley arched one heavily furred brow. "As a matter of fact, I have," he snorted. "They're all very nice in bed. Dont make nearly as much noise as YOU do, Potter."
Harry flushed bright red. How dare he! Harry thought. He promised not to bring that up again! That bastard!
"Erm... what do you mean?"
"I mean all that racket you make in your room at night."
"Ohhh," Harry sighed, relieved.
They continued on in silence, but the hatred between the two could be sensed by even the most oblivious idiot. For neither of them realised that it is not the color of our skin, the magic in our bloods, or our overall skills that matter-- what REALLY matters about a person is our pokemon cards.
Suddenly, Dudley burst out laughing.
"What's so funny, bitch?" Harry groaned, arching a brow.
"Oh... I was just thinking about how badly Eminem sung in that song, Hailie's Song," he cackled again, his voice cutting through the silent night.
Harry was outraged. "Dont you be talkin' 'bout Eminem," he said, hands on his hips.
"And what if I dont stop?" Dudley sneered.
"Then I'll do THIS!" Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Dudley's throat. The chubby boy gulped. "I... I'll tell mom!" he whimpered pathetically.
Suddenly, the street lights all around them went out. Dudley screamed and reached out for the nearest thing to cling to, like a small child. He then realized he was clinging to Harry's hand.
"Ugh, I cant believe I'm holding your hand..." he muttered in disgust.
"Um, that's not my hand, Dud..."
Dudley went pale, and immediately started wiping his hand off on his trousers, making little "ew ew ew" noises as he did so.
Ignoring Dudley, Harry reached out into the darkness with his mind, concentrating on finding the source of the darkness. Suddenly, he felt tingly all over. Before him stood a creature in a long, pink robe, its face hidden by a hood.
A dementor! his mind screamed at him.
The pink being shuffled toward him, making little clicking noises for some reason. Harry then noticed that it wore high heels- glittering, red high-heels.
The creature removed its hood and smiled down at Harry, revealing itself to have a round, perfectly formed face framed with blond curls.
"Lyke, omfg, itz lyke, Harry Potter!" the dementor squealed. Harry's eyes widened as he realized what exactly this creature was- a chat-speaking airhead.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" He screamed in terror.
"So, can I lyke, kiss u, Harry?" she said, smacking her lips. "I gotta lyke, kiss u so I can, lyke, kill u. Itz lyke, a part of teh plot, okiez?"
Meanwhile, Dudley was staring in awe at the girls. He lay down and got into what he called his "pimping position", preparing to put on the moves.
"CLOSE YOUR MOUTH DUDLEY!" Harry called out, upon seeing the girls coming after him - all applying fresh Bonne Bell Lipsmackers on their lips.
Dudley just glared at him.
Even through his hatred for his cousin, Harry knew it was up to him to save both their sorry little asses.
"MOON TIARA MAGIC!!!" screamed Harry, chucking his wand at the dementors, landing just short of their feet. They giggled their shrill, mind-splitting giggles, and all started talking at once.
Meanwhile, Harry knew he had done SOMETHING wrong...
"Lyke, OMFG! He's not, lyke, serious, ryte? I meen..."
"And she sed..."
"And so I'm lyke, wateva..."
Harry clutched his head in pain, the high-pitched squeals and giggles torturing his mind. He wanted to die, just from hearing their mindless drivle.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I remember now!"
Gathering every last ounce of strength he had left in him, he raised his wand (the kind used for spells, you guttermind) and screamed out to the night, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Still, it didnt work. (author obstains from inserting crude comment about male genitalia here)
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" yelled a new voice, female, yet croaky.
A silver whisp flew spiraling upward into the sky. Just above the dementor's heads, it took on the form of a bird, and it proceeded to...
Crap on their heads.
"Lyke, OMG my hair is lyke, totally messed up now!" they all screeched in unison. And as quickly as they'd appeared, they vanished into the night.
"Harry!" cried the same, croaky voice. "Are you all right?"
"Mrs. Figg?" Harry stared in disbelief. "I didnt know you were a witch..."
"I'm not- I'm a squib," she replied breathlessly. "Oh, Mundungus KNEW I couldnt handle these... Wraiths? No, oh what are they called in this book...?"
"Dementors?" Harry offered helpfully.
"Right, right. Dementors. Anycrap, we'd better get you home before they attack again."
And with that, the two dragged a protesting and screaming Dudley back toward number four privet drive...
------------
Review and I'll give you a cookie XD