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A/N: Right. Terribly sorry 'bout this. I decided to enter a fanfic comp (run by Meatloaf the Happy Donkey), and this is what happened. It's long, it's boring, and it's not even remotely as funny as I would have it. But I'm running short on time and long on great big, boring words, so here it is. I don't think it even deserves reviews, only flames.

Here's what it had to include:

1) the yellow submarine song.

2) Barney the big purple dinosaur.

3) A redneck driving a hippie van

4) A Digimon calendar

5) A giant, neon-green, letter "A"

6) Two sumo wrestling bunnies

7) A really stupid guy named Hans who can't speak English.

8) Somebody has to name something "Bubba"

9) A book about Pirates

10) A yodeling kangaroo

11) McGonagall and Snape have to go around trick-or-treating as hippies

12) Somebody getting high on rubber cement

And now here's the story itself. I haven't even bothered to give it a name, it's that bad.

Harry was depressed. His life was absolutely boooorrriinngggg. Even getting high on rubber cement wasn't fun anymore. He sat on his bed, staring at the wall opposite. Seamus Finnigan has stuck up a Digimon calendar, goodness knows why. It was bright pink and purple, with yellow polka dots. Ron had stupidly asked why the pictures didn't move. That was, of course, because it was a damn Muggle calendar. Hermione, however, had bewitched it, and now, for some inexplicable reason, there were two Sumo wrestling bunnies on the month of April. It was nearly the end of the school year-sure, there was still May and June to go, but it was close enough for Harry, and there were no threats or dangers from any evil, not even Voldemort, as he was frightened to death when he saw McGonagall and Snape as hippies trick-or-treating at Hallowe'en (God knows why Hogwarts took up that American custom, something to do with the new standard curriculum for wizarding schools around the world), especially by the "I am a starfish" stuff. Add that to the fact there wasn't a Triwizards tournament and Quidditch was starting to get a bit boring-Hufflepuff and Slytherin were no way as good as Gryffindor, and Cho just kept on letting him get the snitch. Everyone on Gryffindor thought that having the Ravenclaw seeker as Harry's current girlfriend was a great thing-they'd won the cup last year, and the way things were going, it would be exactly the same this year. Harry sighed. Life just didn't have it in it anymore. He looked up as the door squeaked open.

Neville waltzed in, obviously on a high, singing the Yellow Submarine song. "Hey, Harry!" he said, his voice kind of squeaky, "Wanna come sniff rubber cement with us yellow submarine dwelling, rubber cement sniffing people? It'll be fun…" he looked at Harry expectantly. Harry had gone rubber cement sniffing many times before, and usually got right up there with the rest of them-Neville, Parvati's nameless twit sister and Gregory Goyle. But this time, Harry decided to say no. "Sorry, Neville, I'm kinda busy." He flopped on to the bed, trying to look tired. But to Neville's blurry eyes, Harry looked as though he was dead.

"Harry! Are you dead? Has Voldemort killed you? Never fear, Harry, Captain Neville Underpants has come to save you!" Neville yelled, giggling like a looney. "I'll save you with the yellow submarine song! We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine!" Neville yelled. Then he spun around wildly, looking for the elusive Voldemort. Spotting Dean's cloak in the corner, he pounced on it. "Ha! Got you now, Voldie old chap!" Neville bellowed triumphantly, then tottered out of the room, greeting Hermione on the way with a "Hidey Ho!"

Harry, meanwhile, had burrowed underneath the sheets, leaving only a few tufts of black hair sticking out. This day, he decided, was more interesting than any of the others this year. Apart from Hallowe'en, when Snape and McGonagall got a redneck driving a hippie van (he obviously was a muggle) to take them around Hogsmeade trick-or-treating. Harry supposed that whole incident was due to "new love" and all that crap, but really, a hippie van? The redneck was REALLY a redneck, and had a huge beer belly as well. But he was all for peace, and hope,(apart from the times when he participated in a bit of road rage and yelled at "every damn driver on this continent" who were "stuffing up the whole damn traffic system in England") and things that Hermione generally didn't believe in. She stuck them in the same box as Divination, and never touched them again. "But," Harry said to himself, "She'll change her mind soon enough." Harry examined a lump of lint that was residing at the bottom of his bed, then fell asleep promptly, or rather, lost consciousness promptly, breathing in the musty air with very little oxygen.

Hermione scanned the dormitory. No one appeared to be in it. Then she saw the lumps in the bed. "Aha!" she said aloud, "I've got you now, Ron!" and she leapt on top of the bed, which had a bit of red stuff sticking out from the top, and was sure that it was Ron's, and started pummelling it. Instead of the cries of an injured Ron, Hermione and the undercover Harry heard a yodelling noise. The red fluff had disappeared. Hermione felt the lump in the bed cautiously. It was decidedly not Ron. She knew was Ron felt like, and this definitely wasn't him. Ron didn't have a potbelly, nor did he have a tail. And his feet weren't quite that big. Hermione quickly jumped off the bed, and pulled the covers off.

She gave a little shriek as she saw what was under it, and jumped about 2 metres. Harry, wondering what all the kerfuffle was about, emerged from his cocoon, yawning widely.

On top of Ron's bed was a fully-grown, male, red kangaroo, who sounded as though it was yodelling. Harry winced at the sound. It was shrill. Very shrill. Add that to the fact that the kangaroo was tone deaf, and there you have the only sound that is worse than a yowling cat in the middle of the night. But on the other hand, if the cat was Crookshanks…

But Harry didn't think Crookshanks was anywhere near as bad as Hermione shrieking. It was absolutely the worst thing he had ever heard, apart from Crookshanks and the kangaroo…

Hermione shrieked some more, and then the kangaroo stopped yodelling. It just sat there quietly on Ron's bed, staring at Hermione, with its paws in its ears. When she finally realised the kangaroo wasn't doing anything alarming anymore, the whole of Gryffindor was watching from the doorway. Percy pushed his way through. "Excuse me, prefect coming through, make way!" was what he said as he dodged elbows and other sharp projectiles. He finally reached Hermione, and took her aside. "Hermione," he said extremely seriously, "You're in the boys dormitory. Could you please leave?" he had a pained expression on his face.

"What?" Hermione said, a little dazed, "Yes, yes of course. May I take the kangaroo with me?" she asked while distractedly pulling at a bit of hair.

Percy looked at the kangaroo on the bed. "Yes, yes, I suppose so. But you'll have to take it down to Hagrid sometime soon." He said finally.

"Yay! I get to keep the kangaroo! I'm gonna call it Bubba!" Hermione said gaily as she skipped out of the boy's dormitory, kangaroo following behind. It had obviously taken a liking to her.

Percy breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't get a grilling for once again allowing Hermione into the boy's dormitory. Then he started moving everyone away. "No need to stay any more, nothing to see here." He said importantly. After a while, the Gryffindors realised that there was nothing to see, and went back to their Sunday morning activities. It was then that Ron crawled out sheepishly from under his bed. Harry and Percy were shocked to their jocks. Well, not quite, but suffice to say that they were in a state of undress.

Fred and George went back to showing Hans the many ways of getting food from the kitchen. Hans was an exchange student from somewhere in Asia. He had just arrived at Hogwarts the night before, and the entire Weasley family were showing him around. Ron had had the job of getting him a room last night, so he was free of 'Hans' duty for today. Hans didn't speak any English, and had the intellect of a bacterium, or so they thought. He didn't really say much, not even in whatever language he spoke, but he did look around heaps and made oohing and aahing sounds at every twist and turn in the corridors. He also had a little black box which kept clicking. Hans fiddled with the box a lot, turning the round thing at the front and pressing the little red button on the top of it. But he still didn't say anything. In fact, Fred wasn't even sure that Hans could speak. Ginny had just whacked him over the head and told Fred that the poor thing was too shy to speak, and then she gave Hans a really, really, big, sweet smile. Hans smiled back. Of course, there were some problems, with Hans not talking.

Late last night, Hans had gotten down on one knee, and proposed to Ginny. No one was sure about whether he had or not, but Fred and George maintained that he had looked up at her with puppy dog eyes, and she had blushed all the way to her toes. Ginny passionately denied anything of the sort, but now wherever Ginny went, Hans was sure to go.

***

Ron was just walking along the hall, feeling a little peaky-and on a sunny afternoon as well, when Hans came out of the library clutching a book on pirates. It was a great hulking thing, just the kind of book Hermione would love to read. But then, she wasn't interested in pirates. Not unless pirates were an integral part of the school curriculum. But anyway, Hans came out of the library, his nose stuck in a huge book on pirates.

Ron was surprised. "Gee, Hans. I didn't realise you would…" he paused for a way to put it tactfully, so he wouldn't hurt Hans' feelings. He gathered his thoughts, and found a way to express himself. "I didn't realise you would be uh, interested in that kind of book." He waved his hand at the book on pirates.

"Hoooo nooo wasse mesa dongding." Hans smiled dreamily.

"What?" Ron asked, understanding none of whatever Hans had just said

"Ja. Peeratting flavvernice chob." Hans had a weird look on his face.

"Oh, really." Ron tried to look interested as Hans rambled on for a bit.

"Notee craipee machanei." Hans said, rather proudly.

"Uh…Ok…" Ron said cautiously, having no idea what Hans was talking about.

"Nein nein piching hokeypokemonmon." Hans said.

"Pokeywhat?" Ron asked.

"Hokibarnee deenosauce." Hans explained.

"Uh…Barney?" Ron guessed.

Hans nodded. "pokibarnee pigpig inna teeleave deenosauce plogam." He added.

"Right…" said Ron. He was starting to get the gist of what Hans was talking about. "Pokey Barney big in a tea leaf dinosauce uh…program?" Ron tried.

Hans' head was now nodding so much that it looked as though it would fall off any minute.

"Plig burply deenosauce." Hans said proudly.

"Umm…Big purple dinosaur?" Ron asked tentatively.

"Yupyupyupyupyupyupyupyup. Plig friple deenosauce inna teeleave." Hans said, producing a huge purple dinosaur from his pocket. Ron jumped back in fright. Hans looked at Ron curiously, and then back at the dinosaur. Finally he plucked a small bit of fluff of the dinosaur's nose.

By now Ron was cowering under a chair thoughtfully placed outside the library entrance for those who were waiting for their friends who were in the library.

"Mummee!" Ron wailed as the big purple dinosaur advanced.

"Wy! Tye lamee ixy Brawny!" the dinosaur said, holding a fat paw out to Ron, who was trying to become as small as possible.

"Go away! Go away! Or I'll turn you into a snuff box!" Ron said desperately.

"Aaaaawwwww. Dinna wanpa ply nit Bronniekins?" Barney asked quietly.

"Ron? Who are you calling Ron? Stay away!" Ron yelled, frightened to mortal peril, but not quite death.

Hans saw that Ron had taken a mild dislike to "Barnee", and called him back with "comma tack". The big purple dinosaur known as Barney to the English speaking world crawled back into Hans' pocket.

When Ron finally though it was safe to come out, everyone had gone to sleep. Ron himself already had had a little snooze, and was a little tired. So he stumbled back to the Gryffindor tower, but had to check around any corners to see if there were foreign exchange students or big purple dinosaurs, or spiders, for that matter.

When he stumbled past the common room and up the staircase, he took the wrong turn, ergo he went up into the girls' dormitories. He climbed up one, two, three, four floors, and then finally reached the fifth, where he thought his dormitory would be situated. But when he opened the door, the room was unnervingly unfamiliar. There was a poster Harry Potter up on the wall, and over there was one of Gilderoy Lockhart. "God, who the hell would like Gilderoy? Maybe Neville…" he said quietly, as not to wake anyone. "Though I don't know why Harry would allow anyone to put a picture of himself on our wall." He commented. Then he noticed that this didn't smell like the boys' dorms. It was sweet smelling, like Hermione's perfume… "Aaaaah!" Ron yelled! I'm in the girls' dorms!" He tried to run out the door, but the door was shut, and he knocked himself out.

It was cold when Ron woke up. He had never before known his sheets to position themselves in a way that he did not like, but they were doing exactly that right now. He reached around, eyes shut, for his sheets, but they weren't there. They seemed to have disappeared. Ron eased one eye open. It was dark. He couldn't see the canopy above, and he couldn't see his bed at all. Then it hit him. It hit him again. But Ron couldn't see what it was, it was dark like anything. Then whatever it was hit him a third time. By now, Ron was quite annoyed. So he lit a match, and was illuminated. The thing hitting him was Crookshanks.

"Geroff Crookshanks. Go back to Hermione's bed." He mumbled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He could make out dark shapes now. A sliver of green moonlight peeked through the gap in the curtains. The wind ruffled Ron's hair.

"What the devil?" Ron said as he got up and looked out the window. What he saw wasn't too comforting.

There, out on the grass, was a giant neon-green "A" flat on the grass. What it was there for Ron wasn't too sure about, but it looked suspicious. In fact, Ron was almost sure he could see lights at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He squinted a bit. The "A" turned into a "H". Ron shook his head, and looked out again. The "H" had turned back into an "A", and now there was a round, silver disc-like thing hovering above it. Ron leaned out the window a little to see better. He could make out some people on the ground-someone with red hair. A girl. "Ginny!" he shouted out the window. The girl or the other two people with her didn't turn around. Ron leaned a little further. He could feel Crookshanks brushing against his legs. He pushed the cat away with his foot. "Not now, Crookshanks, I'm busy." Ron said irritably, trying to see who the other two people were. He was sure one of them had glasses. Harry and Ginny, out in the gardens in the middle of the night? Ron could see the grey light that came just before dawn. Okay, so it wasn't the middle of the night, but there was an unidentified flying object-the Ministry would have to look into this one, he thought, and people out in the gardens near the Forbidden Forest.

Ron leaned a little further. He tried again. "Ginny! Harry!" he shouted, "What are you doing?" Ron was now half out of the window, half in. Then the third person turned around to face him. Ron could see him quite clearly. It was Hans! What in tarnation would Hans be doing down there with Ginny and Harry and a flying saucer, not to mention the neon-green A? Something thudded on his back. "Crookshanks!" he said, rather annoyed, "Get back in there!" but Crookshanks didn't go back in, he kept climbing up Ron's back. When he got to Ron's head, Ron finally overbalanced and tumbled out the window.

"Goddammit, Crookshanks, I'm gonna die!" Ron said, as the black thing curled around his head. He breathed in, and instead of smelling cat, he smelt a sour, dank, unwashed smell-rather like a dungeon. Then the thing on his head cackled. It was a low, evil laugh.

"He-who-must-not-be-named!" Ron said wildly, clawing at Voldemort while looking for something to grab onto in mid-air. It was a long drop from the fifth floor of the Gryffindor tower. The common room was, after all, on the third floor already. That made it eight storeys to fall. A long way for anyone, Ron thought irrelevantly. Voldemort, for some reason, had disappeared. He was all alone, falling as fast as he could. Ron dimly thought it was called something like terminal velocity. The ground was fast approaching. Time seemed to slow down. He was falling…30 feet…20….10…5…Ron blacked out. He never felt himself hit the grass.

***

"Wake up, Ron." A teacher's voice-Madam Pomfrey, maybe. Ron mumbled and tried to roll over. His head hurt so much.

"Ron, get up you lazy git." Ron heard Harry. "Go 'way, Harry." He inarticulately said.

"Look, maybe this'll work." A girl's voice. Hermione or Ginny? He wondered sleepily. He felt something cold on the back of his neck. It was ice cold, and it spread down his back and into his pants. "Arrgh!" Ron screamed, rolled over and sat up. His head hurt like hell, but then he didn't know what hell hurt like.

"Finally, you're awake." Hermione said, arms crossed across her chest and looking annoyed.

"Yeah." Harry added, "You blacked out outside the library. Hans was quite horrified. He said his first word, too."

"I did not black out in front of the library! Hans started speaking this weird language, and he threatened me with a huge purple dinosaur!" Ron said indignantly.

"Yes, Ron." Harry said dismissively, "I think you've suffered from a bad knock on the head."

"Yeah, well then I went back up to the Gryffindor tower. But I took the wrong staircase and ended up in Hermione's dormitory. Then I saw a UFO out the window. It was floating above a giant, neon-green A." Ron continued.

"Ron, you can't have green neon. Neon is red." Hermione said severely. "I think you've suffered from an extremely bad knock on the head. Are you sure one side isn't completely bashed in?"

"My head's fine! Honest!" Ron protested. "And then I saw Harry and Ginny and Hans all out next to the UFO! They were gonna jump in it and fly off! I know! I saw them!" Ron yelled.

"Ron, calm down. There aren't any UFOs, and Ginny, Hans and I aren't going anywhere in them." Harry said quietly.

"But Crookshanks pushed me out the wind-no, it was Voldemort!" Ron said, correcting himself, "I saw it all!"

"Voldemort, you say?" Harry said, suddenly interested in his friend's ramblings.

"Yes, or at least he smelled like Voldemort." Ron faltered.

Hermione tapped her chin. "This is making a lot of sense. Ron saw all these people while he was semi-unconscious, and made it into a story. Harry and Ginny were the first to spot you after Hans called for help, and Snape came along to get you up to the infirmary. He 'accidentally' dropped you on the stairs a few times on the way, and of course, he smells rather awful, doesn't he?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. That makes sense."

"But what I said was true! All of it!" Ron said.

"Your five minutes is up! You're making my patient agitated! Shoo! All of you!" Madame Pomfrey chased Harry and Hermione out. Then she turned to Ron, a bubbling potion in hand.

"You've had a concussion, and you need rest. This will make you sleep." And with that, she pulled Ron's mouth open and poured the contents of the bottle down his throat.

***

Ron woke up, spluttering as someone poured a mug of rubber cement down his throat. "Hey! Cut it out!" He spluttered as he spat out the foul tasting stuff. Neville looked rather guilty and concerned, Parvati's twit sister was zooming around the room like an aeroplane, Goyle was singing "We all live in a yellow submarine", and Harry was just looking bored. They appeared to be in a dungeon, and it was very cold. Ron shivered. There was silence, and a heavy smell of rubber cement in the room.

"So…who poured that stuff down my throat and what the hell am I doing down here?" he demanded.

"We were all getting high…except Harry, and then you started having a-uh, a fit." Neville said quietly. "Then you blacked out completely. We've been down here half of the night waiting for you to wake up again."

Ron tried to reconcile this fact with the dream-or was it reality? That he had just before. "Right…And what happened before we came down here to sniff glue?" he asked.

"You crawled out from under your bed after a yodelling kangaroo popped out from under the sheets on your bed." Harry said dully. "And while you were out you were raving on about purple dinosaurs and Hans and a UFO, whatever that is." He yawned, and checked his watch. "It's just past two. We ought to be getting back."

"Two in the afternoon or two in the morning?" Ron said, brain working quickly, or so he thought.

"Two in the morning, you idiot." Harry said without an ounce of malice, or humour, for that matter. "Now let's get going before someone finally realises we're not in our beds like we're supposed to." He got up, then yanked Ron with him. Everybody else finally realised that Harry and Ron were leaving, and they stopped whatever they were doing and followed.

"So the kangaroo was real?" Ron asked as they made their way up to the Gryffindor tower.

"Yeah. It's real. It sings terribly off key, it's Hermione's new pet, it's named Bubba and it's currently living in Hagrid's hut." Harry said, utterly bored. The day hadn't turned out exactly the way he thought it would, and it was boring.

"Now let's go to sleep so's we can wake up nice and early for a before breakfast drink-I hear Neville managed to scam some fifty year old Madeira off his Great Uncle Algie." Harry said, tired of Ron, rubber cement and yodelling kangaroos. He shoved the slightly disorientated Ron into his bed, then climbed into his and fell into a deep sleep. Hopefully tomorrow would be better.

A/N: So what did you think? Actually, no, don't tell me. No, do tell me. I want to know where this stands on the grand scale of fanfiction in general.

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