A/N: This is a sequel to another story of mine, The Annual Death Eater Beach Trip, but if you haven't read the Beach Trip you can still read this one independently--I've taken care to explain all the important details of its predecessor. So, anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it makes you laugh until your family questions your sanity! (If it doesn't, I'm not doing my job!)
Lord Voldemort lay back leisurely on a lawn chair in his backyard, playing Animal Crossing on his Nintendo DS. The forest surrounding Riddle Mansion was bursting with foliage of a rich green, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The only sounds that disturbed the tranquility were the buzzing of pollinating bees, the soft chirping of bluebirds overhead, and of course, the upbeat music coming from the Dark Lord's favorite video game. The temperature was rising; summer was fast approaching.
His mind was hardly focused on the game anymore, for he could not help but reminisce on certain memories of the previous summer. Ah, road trips…there is simply nothing like them, and his most recent one was certainly a memorable holiday. Despite the fact that it had ended with a broken posterior on his part, he now recalled it quite fondly. Many good times were had, as well as bad, and he had learned many important lessons along the way; for instance, he'll certainly never try wrestling a grizzly bear again.
Yes, he felt as if nothing in the world could top the good old-fashioned road trip, and looked forward to taking another one in just two short weeks. His opinion would soon change, however, as a faint roaring was heard in the distance. It grew louder, seeming to get closer every second. Voldemort sat up, curiously eyeing the small gravel road nearby, until it appeared.
It was a brand new Harley Davison motorcycle, ridden by a tall man wearing sunglasses, a bandana, and a leather jacket. The bike sparkled in the sunlight as it sped by the mansion, Voldemort gazing in awe. It was the absolute coolest thing he had ever seen.
"Holy crap…………"
"Greetings, my faithful servants!" Voldemort sat in a large, throne-like seat at the end of a long table, his Death Eaters all gazing admirably at him. "I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here today."
"It's about the beach trip, isn't it?" shrieked Bellatrix ecstatically. "I know it is!"
Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, as they could not conceal their wide grins, Snape of course being the exception.
"It most certainly is, Bella," replied Voldemort. "I have summoned you all to announce…that we are not going on a beach trip this year."
Disappointed and angry murmurs broke out around the table. Draco Malfoy sobbed hysterically in his mother's arms.
"Instead," said the Dark Lord loudly, drawing all attention again to him, "we are going to do something much different…and much cooler. Wormtail, bring it out!"
Wormtail entered the room, pushing in front of him something large that was covered by a blanket. The Death Eaters were all completely clueless about the mysterious object, save for the fact that it had wheels (otherwise, stout little Wormtail could not have managed it).
"Behold!" shouted Voldemort, removing the blanket in a dramatic fashion. Everyone gasped. "Yes, 'tis a 'motor bicycle', my friends!" he continued. "You see, I was lounging in my backyard when I heard a rumbling in the distance, so I sat up, curiously eyeing the small gravel road nearby, until it appeared. It was a brand new Harley Davison motor bicycle, ridden by a tall man wearing sunglasses, a bandana, and a leather jacket. The bike sparkled in the sunlight as it sped by my mansion, while I gazed in awe. It was the absolute coolest thing I have ever seen. 'Holy crap', I said!"
Snape groaned. "My Lord, everyone knows that already!"
"Excuse me? What the crap do you mean by that, Snape? I have not spoken a word of this to anyone…."
"Nothing, My Lord, never mind. Please, do go on."
"Er…yes, very well. My friends, you shall all have one just like this, because…"
"Here it comes…here it comes…here it comes!" chanted Bellatrix.
"We are forming our own motor bicycle gang and taking a cross-country road trip!"
Cheers of excitement echoed throughout the room.
"Ah, Wormtail, don't you love it when cheers of excitement echo throughout the room?" asked Voldemort, feeling quite pleased with himself.
"Yes, Master."
"Yes, rather…. Now bring in the others!"
Wormtail groaned but reluctantly obeyed, dragging countless heavy motorcycles into the room and knowing all the while that he would only have to take them outside again after the meeting.
"And furthermore…," the Dark Lord continued dramatically. The crowd was still with anticipation, save for Wormtail, who was not even halfway done with his grueling task. "We shall not be taking our wands this year."
Confusion was etched on every face in the crowd, and there were many murmurs of anger and disapproval.
"SILENCE!"
Death Eaters may be idiots, but they know when to shut up.
"My friends, you have lost the spirit of the good old American road trip!"
"But we're British….," mumbled one random, nameless Death Eater.
"AVADA KEDAVRA! Now, as I was saying, we shall not be taking our wands because this is a time to get away! To escape the stress of being so incredibly evil and powerful, and do things the Muggle way for a change! I mean, really, it gets old…being so awesome. So what do you say? Are we doing this for real, or not?"
The Death Eaters gave a cheer, and every wand in the room was simultaneously thrown into the air like a graduation cap. Then they all came crashing down to the ground with a thud, except for one.
"Snape, are you all right?" asked a concerned Narcissa, whose own wand happened to be the one that Snape was now removing from his eye socket.
He shrugged. "The emotional pain that I feel deep within my soul is equivalent to that of a thousand daggers mercilessly piercing every inch of my lifeless flesh. Your wand cannot possibly cause me any further pain."
"Oh…well, that's just peachy, dear!"
The day had finally come, and it was pleasantly warm as the sun lay directly overhead. The Death Eaters would have set off by now, had they not been bickering since six a.m. over what to name their gang. Voldemort, having realized at about nine 'o clock that he was incapable of producing a name that wasn't already copyrighted, had stopped trying, and was now enjoying the scene in front of him: countless Death Eaters screaming random names at the top of their lungs, each hoping that theirs would be the one chosen. He leaned back in his seat and laughed as they fought into the afternoon, only occasionally intervening with such comments as, "Shouting the same name multiple times will not earn my favor!", "Whining will get you nowhere, Draco!", and "Bella, let's try and keep this fic rated T, shall we?"
Finally, Snape shoved his way through the crowd to his master. "My Lord, I have a suggestion. Why not pick the name randomly from a hat?"
"Hmm…that's genius, Snape! Not as entertaining…but genius, nonetheless!" He rose from his seat and clapped his hands together, silencing all at once. "All right, who has a hat?"
One nameless disposable Death Eater raised his hand. "I do."
"Excellent! Avada Kedavra!" He approached the corpse and snatched the hat off its head. "Yoink!"
Everyone frantically searched their pockets for pieces of parchment and began to write down their ideas. Once everyone had deposited their papers into the hat, Voldemort rather dramatically extracted just one, and read it aloud.
"Purple… Roadmonkeys? All right, whose idea was this?"
Draco blushed, grinning as if he were proud of himself. He didn't dare speak up, though.
"Well, whoever came up with this…," said Voldemort loudly, "…is a genius! The name of our gang is The Purple Roadmonkeys!"
No one dared question their master, so they all cheered awkwardly and hopped onto their bikes.
Crash! All heads turned in the direction of the Dark Lord's newest recruit.
"Olga!" roared Voldemort. "Do you have any idea how much that bike cost me?"
Olga, who had joined the Death Eaters just last year upon taking up a relationship with Wormtail, now sat upon a ruined motorcycle; her expression was vacant, as usual. She had gained fifty pounds over the past twelve months, and she was seriously overweight to begin with. In fact, it was her weight alone which caused the untimely demise of her new Harley.
"BIKE NO PRETTY NO MORE!" she announced in her booming voice.
"You know what, Olga?" said Voldemort, irritated. "Why don't you just stay at Malfoy Manor while we're gone?"
Lucius Malfoy had every intention of protesting, but thought better of it upon receiving a warning glance from his wife.
"FOOD THERE?" asked Olga hopefully, for she loved food more than anything else.
"Yes, Olga, they do have food there."
Olga was gone as soon as she heard this, Wormtail shouting countless heartfelt goodbyes after her. She failed to hear any of them, concerned only with the feast that awaited her.
Voldemort was now preparing his own bike for the journey. He planned to take with him his favorite horcrux: a fluffy little teddy bear named Mr. Happysmileyman. A tiny leather jacket now covered its light blue fur, and it was wearing an expensive-looking pair of sunglasses. Voldemort gave the bear a quick hug and carefully strapped it to the bike's leather seat.
The Purple Roadmonkeys started up their bikes and rode off down the highway, and thus began the first annual Death Eater motorcycle trip.
A/N: What do you think so far? Don't forget to review! ......You're not reviewing. Why aren't you reviewing? Are you still reading this crap? Why are you still reading this crap? Maybe I should stop typing. I'm going to stop typing now, OK? OK, bye...you can review now. Siriusly.
