Harry Potter and the Legitimate Lifestyle Choice
By Jay Kay Rawlening
By Ridley the Violator
Hey fags, I'm back, now with 200% more gay jokes! SUCK MY DICK! Oh yeah, and this story isn't suitable for kids! Or adults, even. It kind of sucks. I'll be doing this in seven parts, each part summarizing the book in general.
The Sorcerer's StonePrologueUncle Burplsy licked his fat palled lips. He was soooo fat that both his ass cheeks were literally bulging out of the sides of his rickety chair. His fat ass bags swayed gently back and forth in the breeze of the air conditioner.
But more horrifying was his son, Buttly.
Buttly was so fat that his gigantic fat fatty ass required too chairs to actually balance. His butt flaps were coiled on the floor like gigantic fatty pythons. His face was so fat that the fat had literally closed over his eyes, nose, and mouth, making it impossible for him to do anything at all. His fingers were literally the size and girth of entire dolphins, his arms the approximate size of sperm whales.
In contrast, Harry's ugly crack whore aunt was as thin as a bean-pole—literally; he could see her organs and the blood in her veins running and pulsing rhythmically. Her neck was so long that she hit her head everywhere she went. She also had a huge nose, a gigantic blade of a thing, so long and sharp it was. Harry had heard of her slicing people in half when she tried to give them oral for crack.
Harry was a rather average boy, with pale skin, dark hair, and deep emerald eyes that spoke of a generically tragic past. But his most remarkable feature was the strange scar on his forehead. At first it appeared to be a lightening bolt, but upon closer inspection it was revealed to be a large cock pointing down at his mouth. The scar-cock's scar-balls were arranged on Harry's temples, the base of the pen0r disappearing into his hairline as its swollen tip protruded just between his bushy eyebrows.
"You're a freak, boy!" yelled Uncle Burpsly. "A huge, fat freak!"
Harry stared, feeling the bottom sink out of his navel. Sure, he had a very gay scar, but really? Compared to these people he was fucking Norman Rockwell.
"Um…really?" he said, completely at a loss for words.
"Don't talk back to me!" roared Uncle Burpsly, his foot long jowls shaking obscenely.
"…Sorry?"
"Ha, ha, look at Harry! He's sooooo stupid!" burbled Buttley, prying apart the gigantic bladders of fat that had closed over his mouth so he could speak.
Harry glanced at him and promptly vomited.
"Watch your language young man," snipped Aunt Whore, her neck bobbing back and forth like a wobbling erection. "And don't talk back to your step-brother-cousin!"
Harry shrugged. "I don't see anyone I remotely resemble here. At all."
"GO TO YOUR ROOM!" throffed his uncle. "GO TO YOUR ROOM OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE TWAT!" A vein the size of Harry's whole hand had begun to bulge on his uncle giant fat forehead.
Harry ran, strips of bacon pelting his back on the way up the stairs. He went into his room, a tiny space in the attic with piles of toilet paper for walls and three empty tic-tac dispensers for a bed. Harry had already used up half his walls. He sighed and peered out the window, hating his life and the strange smell that his room had acquired.
Suddenly, in the distance, he spotted a speck. The speck grew larger and larger, until he could make it out for some kind of bird. A brown owl, he realized.
Then the owl hit his window straight on and died messily. It slid down out of sight with an expression similar to deer in headlights, leaving a smear of viscera on the window. Harry heard it splat as it hit the pavement below.
Oh boy, thought Harry, food! The Burpslies had not fed him for five years.
He dashed downstairs and out the door to where the owl was, only to find to his dismay that his uncle was already sucking the owl's bones dry, his fat pallad lips glistening with owl fat.
"AH HA!" he bellowed. "I knew you would try to eat!" He slapped Harry. "YOU WON'T EAT A BITE IN MY HOME, BOY, OR YOU'LL BLOODY WELL LEAVE!" He looked down at the eaten owl. "Ah ha, what's this!"
It was an envelope. His uncle leaned over to pick it up. Harry stared at his fat moon of an ass and longed to plunge his foot into it. His uncle straightened up with the letter.
His face had gone a very unattractive shade of white. "Hogwart's school of witchcraft and wizardry," mumbled his uncle. "Hmmm."
Mr. Burpsly opened the letter and read.
"Hey that's mine!" said Harry indignantly, though he knew it was no use. Mr. Burpsly kicked him in the face and continued to read.
He looked back up at Harry, a stupid grin on his fat face.
"Boy…let's go to the zoo."
Harry stared. Again. "What?"
The nice lady at the concessions stand had asked Harry if he wanted something, so his uncle had bought him a damp popsicle stick to suck on. It was the happiest day of Harry's life. He was so happy that he went into the reptile house, a place he had never gone into before for some reason.
There were a bunch of various reptilian creatures in the reptile house; a komodo dragon, a newt, a frog, a dragon, but they all looked rather boring. Then Harry's eye was drawn to a very large python, curled up against the window of its display. For some reason he liked large penis shaped things. Go figure.
Harry pressed his bulbous little nose up against the glass and peered in with beady eyes at the python. After a moment, the snake opened one eye and looked at him. Its eye widened. In flash, the snake had uncurled and was itself pressed up against the glass like the girlfriend of a for-life con, its scaly snout flat in front of Harry.
"Hey. Hey kid," said the snake in Brooklyn accent.
Harry stared. He hadn't known that snakes talked.
"I didn't know that snakes talked."
The snake rolled its eyes. "Of course we talk—but only to people that can speak parcel tongue."
"What's parcel tongue?" asked Harry.
"It's where your tongue turns into a parcel," said the snake. "You know, like a package in the mail." It grinned.
"Oh."
It laughed. "Ha ha, dumbass!" Then it stared at Harry's strange scar. "That looks pretty fuckin' gay, kid."
Harry flushed. "Well, you're ugly and stupid and shaped like a penis."
The snake rolled its eyes. "Uh huh, sure. At least I have one more dick than you do, then." It looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, there's something I could use your help with, kid," it said.
"Like what?"
"See, I'd really like to get out of here and stretch my legs. Figuratively speaking, I mean. How about letting me out?"
"Um…sure!" Harry tried to pry open the glass display window.
"Not like that, kid," said the snake gently. "You've gotta use magic. Close your eyes and wish the glass away."
"That's stupid," said Harry.
"JUST DO IT BITCH!"
"Okay okay okay!" Harry closed his eyes and wished for the glass to go away. He wished as hard as he could. He wished so hard that he started to get an erection.
Harry opened his eyes.
The glass was gone, and the snake was staring at his crotch. It looked back up at him.
"You're a weird kid," it said. Then it slithered away down the isle. Harry stared after it, completely at a loss for words. The scar on his forehead was hurting.
"BOY!" he heard his uncle call. "I've got someone I'd like you to meet! Come here!"
For once in his life Harry was glad to obey. He ran out of the reptile house and followed the sound of his uncle's voice.
His uncle was standing next to a very large man wearing a big trench coat. The man was almost nine feet tall, huge around the waste, I mean the waist, and had a gigantic scruffy beard. He was also wearing aviators.
"This is Harvy," said his uncle.
"Hagrid," corrected the big man.
"That's right, Harold. He wants to take you away to his special magic castle, boy."
Harry stared. "What?"
Uncle Burpsly rolled his eyes. "He's a pedophile, boy. A child molester. A rapist. And I'm selling you to him for fifteen dollars."
"Come on kid," said Hagrid as he grabbed Harry and stuffed him under his trench coat. It was musty and hot in there. Hagrid looked about shiftily and handed uncle Burpsly a fistful of cash before sidling out of the zoo.
Buttly came up, rubbing his man boobs craftily. They were the size of udders, with multiple nipples as well. "Good job dad!" he said. "Now we can live without that kid hogging all the food."
"Son," laughed uncle Dursley, his fat jiggling jovially, "I should have made your mother have that back alley abortion."
"Are you really a pedophile?" Harry asked as he and Hagrid sat next to each other on an airliner. It was very cramped.
Hagrid's beard twitched. A few fleas could be seen hopping around in it. "Let's just say I'm still young. Inside. Of course, I'm on duty now so don't worry." He pinched Harry's ass.
"Oh, okay," said Harry.
"I like your scar," said Hagrid.
Hagrid pushed Harry into a dingy alleyway. Several old men looked up and grinned toothily at them. A prostitute was having sex nearby, and her faked moans echoed off the damp old style cobblestones.
"Where is this place?" asked Harry.
"Dickgobbin' Alley," said Hagrid. "It's where you'll buy all your school supplies." He started to walk away.
"Hey, where are you going!" screeched Harry.
Hagrid walked over to the old men who were watching Harry with lecherous eyes. "Saying hi to my mates," he called back. "Go find your own fucking stuff!"
Harry shrugged and wandered off, looking for a GAP.
A few of the people he walked buy stared and whispered things like; "the boy who lived!" and "the mark! The mark!" Other people just said things like; "How much?" and "That scar is gay and so are you."
One person pushed Harry and he staggered into a shop.
An old man looked up from a pile of long boxes he was packing. The man was old and had dust in the creases of his skin.
"Ah…Harry Cocker. I've been expecting you."
Harry stared. "What?"
"I sell wands," said the old man. He pulled a handful of long wooden sticks from one of the boxes and counted off: "Ten inches. Eleven inches. Nine inches, eight inches. Twelve inches." He leered on that last one. "My name is Olivehandler."
"Harry," said Harry. "That's my name."
The old man looked at him oddly. "I know. Didn't I just…nevermind. So, I expect you'll be wanting a wand."
Olivehandler unceremoniously dumped about two hundred wands all over the table.
Harry stared. He pointed to one at random. "How about that one?"
Olivehandler's eyebrow quirked. He reached down and picked up a very small, stubby wand, only about two inches long. "This one?" He snickered. "Are you sure?"
Harry flushed. "No, no, I meant that one!"
He pointed. Olivehandler picked up another wand. This one was about one inch long.
"What the fuck!" cried Harry in exaggeration. "Just find me a big one. Jesus Christ."
Olivehandler cackled, some dust shooting out of his nose. He picked up a wand. It was almost thirteen inches long.
"That one!" cried Harry, his eyes lightening up with glee.
"Overcompensating?" queried Olivehandler slyly.
"No!" Harry looked around furtively.
"Let's just see then!" Olivehandler bounded over the table and pulled Harry's pants down!
"RAPE! RAPE!" cried Harry as Olivehandler compared the two wands.
"Bah!" said Olivehandler, ignoring Harry's distress. "Two inches at most when erect, I'm sure! Let me just get…the appriopriate wand!"
The old man rummaged in his boxes as Harry pulled his pants up ashamedly.
"Here we go!" Olivehandler tossed Harry a pale, flaccid wand adorned with rainbow stickers and little clouds and pushed him out the door. "Now get out of my shop!"
Next, Harry found himself in a robe making shop. A pale blonde boy was standing on a stool, buck naked, being fitted for robes. The boy looked over at Harry, his pale flabby ass jiggling at the motion.
"Who're you?" asked the boy.
"Harry," said Harry.
"Ah." The boy sneered a little. "My name is Draco. Draco—" the old woman fitting him accidentally shoved an entire sewing needle into his urethra. "OW!" Draco pimp slapped her. "What the fuck are you doing, bitch! Go find me some robes!"
"Sorry master Malfoy!" mumbled the woman and scurried off out of sight.
Draco turned fully to face Harry, holding up his hand. "You have to keep your pimp hand strong, Potter," he said and smiled maliciously.
"I didn't tell you my name," said Harry.
"You just did, fucktard," drawled Malfoy. "Everybody knows about you and your scar anyways." He pointed to his own crotch for emphasis. "And how gay it is."
Harry shrugged. "You're the one that's naked."
Malfoy grinned. "I like you Potter. I'm sure we'll get along just fine—as long as you do everything I say ever and kiss my ass."
"Sure," said Harry. "In your wet dreams."
Draco sneered at him as the lady returned, a bundle of robes under one hand. "Here you are master Malfoy."
"Thanks," said Draco, kicking her in the vagina. "Next time try not to violate me with a needle." He donned his robes and bustled out of the shop, kneeing Harry in the nads on his way past. "So long Cocker!"
The old lady winked at Harry. "He doesn't know that I hired a bunch of pedophiles to masturbate onto those robes."
Faintly, they heard the sound of Draco exclaiming how awesome his new robes were.
"Well then," said the old lady, "lets see what will fit you then, hmm?"
She made a grab for Harry's pants, but he pushed her away. "NO! FUCK YOU! No more molestation today. Just give me what you think will fit."
The old lady sniffed in irritation and went and got some robes. Harry looked at them suspiciously. "You didn't have pedophile's masturbate on these too, did you?"
The old lady laughed. "No, of course not."
Harry put on the robes.
"I had them urinate instead."
Next, Harry went to Green Gooks bank. A goblin greeted him at the front desk.
"Harry. Harry Potter," said Harry.
The goblin snorted. "Yeah, no shit. Everyone knows who you are from that scar." He look at it. "And how gay it is. Here's your money dumbass."
He dropped a small sack of gold coins into Harry's hand.
"Aren't you going to take me into a mine or something?" asked Harry.
"What, and make out with you?" cackled the warty little Goblin. "What do you think this is, homosexual pornography? I mean, fag porn? Besides don't have a dungeon. We have VAULTS, idiot."
When Harry exited the building, Hagrid was standing there with two strawberry ice cream cones.
"Sorry about earlier," he said, handing a cone to Harry. "But I had business. Anyways, enjoy your ice cream."
Harry looked at him suspiciously. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
"No." Hagrid whistled innocently.
"This ice cream tastes like drugs."
Harry and Hagrid arrived at Platform Nine and Three Quarter Inches.
"Well, here you go" said Hagrid, and pushed Harry out of the car and into the station.
"Thanks for nothing!" said Harry. Hagrid flipped him off.
He looked up and saw a sandy haired boy staring at him.
"Hey," said the boy.
"Hey," said Harry.
"My name's Ron," said the boy. "Ron Jeremy."
"Ron Jeremy!" a red haired woman bustled up to them. She was fat and ugly. Accompanying her were two boys who looked exactly the same and both had retarded smiles on their faces.
"Hi," said one. "We're the twins; Fred and George."
The other one laughed. "No, GEORGE AND FRED!"
They both laughed like assholes.
"God," said Harry, "Don't tell me you're related to these mother fuckers." He nodded at the red hair woman. "Or this fat bitch."
Ron turned pink. His gigantic floppy elephant ears turned a red hot burning shade of scarlet. "My mum," he whispered in a voice so comically hoarse with embarrassment it sounded like Clint Eastwood having an orgasm. "And my brothers."
A guy with glasses who looked like one serious asshole bustled up to them.
"Hello," he said, offering his hand to Harry. "My name is Percy Jeremy. I'm a prefect."
"I don't care," said Harry.
"You must be Harry Cock," said Percy, ignoring him. "I can tell by the scar." Ron turned and goggled at Harry like an idiot. Apparently he was too stupid to put two and two together.
"Thanks for reminding me of the gigantic cock on my forehead," said Harry genially.
"No problem," said Percy. "I think we're going to get along famously."
"Come on now," squeaked Misses Jeremy, ushering them all into the train. "Get your ginger asses in there."
"Mum," wheedled Ron, "you forgot Ginnie."
"Oh yeah." Misses Jeremy reached inside her suitcase and pulled out a very small, mousy ginger creature, which she threw into the train. Ron caught it as its head flopped around pointlessly.
"She's an inflatable character," he said to Harry. "She has no personality or point in her existence until some author comes and gives her a purpose."
"What?"
AND THEY WERE OFF TO HAWGWARTS!
The train ride was long and boring. Harry and Ron were crammed into a small compartment from the beginning. Their thighs rubbed together far too much. Soon, a girl with giant bush of sandy hair bustled into their cabin and sat down. She was pale and had acne, and her hair was seriously a fucking bush oh my god it filled the whole cabin.
"Hermione Granger," she said, dumping an entire bathtub of books onto the seat next to her.
Harry looked at her. "You look like someone who will never get laid."
Ron brightened up. "You can suck my dick if you want to get halfway deflowered," he suggested to Hermione.
Hermione pulled out her wand, pointed it at Ron's crotch, and said, "Flippus dickus."
Immediately, Ron's penis began to flip back and forth like a light switch being turned on by a retard. He screamed in agony as his own phallus battered his tiny balls. Harry and Hermione watched and laughed. A fat ass woman bustled in with a candy cart. She stayed to watch Ron cry and Harry bought them all some butterfingers, which they munched on for the rest of the trip as the spell on Ron died down.
"Would you like to be friends?" asked Harry.
"Sure," said Hermione, finishing her fifty-seventh book for the ride and picking up a new one. "But understand that this means no emotional attachment at all."
"Fine by me," said Ron, massaging his aching balls. "As long as you work the shaft I'm sure we'll get along just—"
They arrived at Hogwarts with Ron's head shoved almost completely up his own ass.
"First years over here!" roared Hagrid. "FIRST YEARS!"
Harry and Ron and Hermione walked over. Hagrid bent down wordlessly, picked them up, and threw them into a nearby ferry.
"He's a pedophile," commented Harry.
Ron nodded, massaging his stretched asshole and giving Hermione a dirty look. "Yeah, he groped me."
Ironically Hagrid was the best friend they had Hogwarts. But they did not know that yet.
Soon they arrived at the great hall. Harry noticed that the portraits were spitting curses at them. An old woman who liked like she was PMSing stalked into the room and whistled. All the first years jumped.
"BITCHES! Into the great hall, now!" said Mogonoggle. They entered, and found that the great hall was big and had a ceiling. The ceiling was playing a crappy video of the sky meant to look like it was mimicking the outside—except that it was nighttime outside and the ceiling was showing a bright, sunny cloudless sky.
"Prepare to be sorted!" Somebody pushed a small boy up onto a pedestal. An imposing black hat glared down at him with empty black eye sockets that were filled with horrible knowledge. The hat opened its gash of a mouth, displaying a bristling rack of tiny needlepoint teeth. A gigantic thick leather tongue lolled out of the side of its gash mouth, licking obscenely at the side as its endless pitted eyes watched the fiercely urinating child. Tendrils extruded from under the hat and lowered the hat onto the boy's quivering head. It closed over his scalp like a sucking mouth.
After a moment, the hat spoke. "This kid has a tiny dick and he had sex with a pillow when he was nine. Hufflepuff."
Harry gasped. "It's the sorting hat," informed Hermione, "it tells everyone your darkest secrets and then sorts you."
Ron suddenly flushed a very bright shade of pink.
When it was Harry's turn the hat wasted no time at all.
"GAY!" it roared so loudly that everyone in the fucking entire school heard it. "Gryfindor."
Next it was Hermione's turn. The hat took a few moments.
"Lesbian," it said. "Not that it matters though because she'll never ever have sex. Ever. Gryffindor. Because it's the virgin house."
Next was Ron's turn.
The hat was quiet for a long, long time.
"Oh my god," it began, laughing hysterically. "Okay listen up." Everyone leaned in interestedly. Ron flushed pure red, like the color red, bright red.
"Okay, so this kid's ears were so fucking big when he was born that his mother had to get surgery for them."
Everyone laughed hard at Ron.
Dumbledore stood up. "I would like to announce Ron Jeremy as our official most unpopular kid in school."
Suddenly Harry woke up in his Gryfindor common room bed from the wet dream he had been having.
The next morning Harry and Ron and Hermione went to the great hall. They sat down, and ate breakfast. Suddenly a gigantic swarm of owls exploded through the pane glass windows, showering deadly glass shards all over the innocent first years, killing several. As the survivors began to scream a great storm of owl shit showered upon them, covering every single square centimeter of the room with white and black shit.
"I GOT MAIL!" shouted Ron loudly. An owl immediately shat into his mouth.
"What is it?" asked Harry.
Ron blushed for no reason. "From my -"
"Shut up."
He turned to Hermione. "Did you get any books?"
Unfortunately an entire bookshelf had been dropped on Hermione, breaking her neck. Blood leaked from under a large volume on the subject of animal's penises. Harry shrugged. "Oh well," he said. Some of the faculty came and carried the corpse away.
"I'm glad she's dead," said Ron. The corpse began to cry.
"I think she heard you," said Harry.
Ron just stared at him and began to make the slow jerk.
Their first class for the day was Postshuns, or Postions, with Professor Snap. As soon as Harry walked into the classroom, he knew that Snap would be trouble. He knew this chiefly because Snap was waiting behind the door, and when Harry came in Snap hit him over the head with a two by four.
"Ow! Fuck!" said Harry, rubbing his head. "What the hell was that for?"
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" snapped Snap. "I've had just about enough of your fucking profanity, Potter."
"We just met!"
"Correcting a teacher! ONE HUNDRED POINTS! You've been arrogant since the first day you got to this school!"
"I just got here yesterday!"
"ONE THOUSAND POINTS!"
"But-"
"INFINITY POINTS! Go to your seat!"
"Wow, wait to go," said Ron. Hermione, who was alive again, sniffed at him disapprovingly.
Harry cried out in aguish. "Oh man, this is all my fault. How will we my house ever recover? Oh wait, I don't care."
"BE THAT AS IT MAY," said Snape in his oily, sinewy voice, "I am hereby filing my recommendation that you be crucified and thrown into the Fapping Willow as punishment for sucking at potions."
"We haven't even done any potions yet," pointed out Hermione
Snape rounded on her. "You fucking mud blooded whore. Shut your dirty diseased mouth before I cut out your tongue."
All the Slatherons laughed out loud at this. Snape waved at his fan club and signed a few autographs. Draco Malfoy grinned maliciously at Harry as Snape signed his man-tit in permanent ink.
Hermione was crying again.
"Can't he get in trouble for this?" asked Harry to Ron.
"I don't know mate," said Ron. "Or care."
Hermione burst into more bursting tears and stormed out of the room. Her giant bush of hair was almost pruned by the door frame. Pansy Parkensons laughed like a bitch and Harry threw his pen at her. It bounced off of Grab's head and into one of his potion ingredients. There was an explosion and Grab and his counterpart Oil went flying through the air to smash through a window and fall ten thousand feet—even though they were in a dungeon.
"Nice one mate," said Ron.
"I didn't mean to!" shouted Harry in horror.
Snape drew himself up to his full height, grease spraying out of his greasy skin in anger. "IF I EVER FIND OUT WHO DID THIS, I WILL MAKE SURE THAT THAT PERSON IS EXPELLED!"
"It was Cocker," said Malfoy. All the Slatherons agreed and pointed at him.
"Yeah, I saw him do it," said a kid from Buttfullpuff. Shanehus Flippigun hit him upside the head and told him to be quiet.
Snape ignored them and squinted at Harry. "I've got my eye on you Potter."
"You already said that."
"NEGATIVE INFINITY TIMES TEN POINTS!"
