A/N: Hello all, this is my newest story and I decided to try something a little different. By different I mean that okay you know all those stories well Malfoy hates his life? Well in this story he is actually going to like his life. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter. What, did you actually think that I did, that's just sad. Yeah, so you know, please don't sue me.
A soft hooting noise reached a sleeping Draco Malfoy's ears, drawing him, unwillingly, away from the world of dreams. Sitting up, he cast a weary eye around the room, failing to identify the source of the noise. Slowly raising his hands, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked again, this time he noticed a brown and white barn owl, which was rather formal in appearance, perched on the windowsill. Reaching over, Draco snatched the letter off of the owl's leg and sent it on it's way with an irritated wave of his hand. Looking down, he saw that the letter was from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A letter such as this wasn't unordinary for Draco Malfoy, because Draco was a wizard, and along with about a thousand other students he attended Hogwarts, where he learned all he would ever need to know about magic. Draco would be entering his seventh and final year at Hogwarts this September 1st. After this year he planned to enter the Ministry of Magic like his father and in two years, when he turned nineteen, he would join the ranks of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and evil wizard of all time, as a Death Eater.
Slowly and neatly, Draco opened his letter, and dumped out a letter from Professor McGonagall, his booklist, and
(a head boy badge, a letter explaining why his badge couldn't be sent in the mail?)
nothing else. Draco began to shake the envelope as if trying to make something stuck inside fall out. No luck. Peering inside he saw that it was empty. He wasn't head boy? He Draco Serpento Malfoy wasn't Head Boy? Had Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, finally gone off his rocker? Oh, somebody was going to pay. Oh, they were going to pay all right. Not bothering to read the rest of what was in the envelope, Draco stormed down the hall in to the kitchen, where he found his father, Lucius Malfoy eating breakfast.
"Morning, Draco," Lucius drawled, looking up from the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Morning, Father," Draco replied curtly.
"Draco, I went into the Ministry earlier this morning and I ran into Pyrites, he had some news he thought might interest me. Do you know what he told me Draco?" Lucius was obviously annoyed about something Draco had or hadn't done.
Sighing, Draco asked, somewhat halfheartedly, to show that he didn't really care without showing disrespect, "What did he tell you, Father?"
"He told me that Ernie Macmillan was this years Head Boy, not you," Lucius answered, looking at Draco sternly.
"I guess Dumbledore has finally lost his marbles," Draco replied as he buttered his toast.
"Has he?" Lucius asked raising his eyebrows. "Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but what can I do?"
Lucius sighed, looked back down and the Daily Prophet, and continued to read signaling that this conversation was finished.
Finishing his breakfast, Draco stood from the table and announced, "I'm going to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies I'll be back in a couple of hours." He then stalked off to his room to get his book and supplies lists.
In Diagon Alley
With a rather loud pop Draco appeared in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron.
"What can I get for you young Master Malfoy?" asked Tom the toothless caretaker from behind the counter.
"Nothing, I'm not staying," Draco snapped still in a fit of rage. Draco stomped out the door to the back and tapped the bricks gaining entrance to Diagon Alley.
First, Draco went to Florish and Blott's to buy all of his new schoolbooks and also a book called Revenge at it's Best and Worst, By T.M.R.
After that he went into the store with a sign that read, Apothecary, to get his potions supplies, quills, ink, et cetera. He then proceeded to Madam Malkin's to get fitted for his new school robes, for he had grown out of his over the summer. He had in fact grown five inches.
Once he was finished, he decided to Apparate home and drop off his bags, then he would go shopping for a new broom, maybe a firebolt so that he could show Potter a thing or two.
Since it was only allowed for someone to Apparate out of Diagon Alley and not back into again, Draco Apparated into the Leaky Cauldron, after dropping off his bags at home. Looking around the small pub, he noticed Ernie Macmillan sitting at a table with some other people whom Draco didn't know. Even as Draco stood there, a plan already began forming in his mind. But first things first.
Draco practically ran from the pub in his hurry, still contemplating the plan in his mind, working out the clichés. Draco quickly bought a Firebolt without paying attention to what he was doing then ran all the way from the far end of Diagon Alley to Knockturn Alley.
Running into the first store he came upon, Draco found himself face to face with a man he knew to be Borgins; his father had done business with him before in Draco's second year when the Ministry of Magic had been issuing raids among houses.
"I need a very powerful and quick working poison," Draco stated, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he was up to something. "It's, uh, for my father, Lucius Malfoy. I believe you know him."
"Oh. Yes, of course I know him. Well, um, I normally can't sell poisons to a minor, but, well, if it's for Lucius Malfoy, then I guess I can, just this once though." Borgins looked very uncomfortable and quickly began to look through bottles of varying colors and sizes. "This is the best and fastest I have. It is called Prucay le cine vuswaw, the person or persons who drink this will keel over within in five minutes."
"I suppose this will have to work then," Draco replied in the perfect imitation of his father.
"That will be eleven galleons then, young Master Malfoy," Borgins held out his hand awaiting the money,
"Eleven! My father will NOT be happy about this Borgins, he'll have a thing or two to say about it," Draco was all but yelling right in Borgins' face.
"Okay. Okay. Um, seven Galleons, then," Borgins hurried to assure Draco that Lucius need not know about his little, "blunder."
Draco counted out the money and threw it down on the counter, "See ya," he muttered.
Draco grabbed the poison and forced his legs to walk, not run out of the store. Once he was out of Borgins' sight, he started to run until he reached the Leaky Cauldron.
Looking around he saw that Ernie and his friends were still sitting at their table. Now Draco was faced with a problem he hadn't considered, how was he going to pour the poison into Ernie's drink without anybody noticing? After a bit of quick thinking, Draco muttered a spell, causing a chair in the corner to catch fire. It took about five seconds for everyone in the pub to notice and run to put it out, Ernie and his friends among them. As soon as they were away from the table Draco popped the cap and poured the deadly poison into Ernie's drink.
Soon enough, the pub quieted down and Ernie and his friends returned to their table. Draco, who was just within earshot, heard Ernie telling all of his friends how he had gone to see Bulgaria in a Quidditch match over the summer. Pausing Ernie took a long and, unknown to him, deadly, drink from his goblet.
Five minutes.....nothing.
Ten minutes.....still nothing.
Twenty minutes.....why isn't it working?
Draco was getting irritated. Looking around the crowded pub, something, or more so someone caught his eye. Doing a double take, he saw Pyrites sitting alone at a table, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, smirking at Draco and holding up the little bottle that was the poison. Reality began to set in, Draco reached into his pocket and drew out the little bottle that he had emptied into Ernie's drink the label on it read
(Poison? Deadly? KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN?)
cherry flavoring. He had poured Cherry Flavoring into Ernie's Drink!
Fists balling up in fury, eyes ablaze, the blood in Draco's body was replaced with pure intensifying anger pumping to every inch of his body. That stupid, horrid, Little Pratt! How dare he screw up Draco's plan. Oh, and it would have worked out so perfectly.
Pyrites was a new Death Eater. He was as sly as a fox and sometimes, like now, could be a very annoying prat. Pyrites was never seen without a pair of white gloves on and he would also never give a reason for wearing the gloves. Most of the people he killed never knew he was in the room with them, which was why he was so good to have on your side. But sometimes, Draco would really rather see him dead.
When Draco had his anger under control, he turned, and stalked out of the Leaky Cauldron.
Once Draco had Apparated back into the Malfoy Manor, he was in a fit state. He was so angry at Pyrites for messing with his plan, he could have killed him.
Draco kicked his way into his bedroom, and saw that the house elves had already been through here. Still angry, he walked over to his bed and kicked the trunk at the edge of it. This did nothing, however, to improve his ill-tempered spirits, it did in fact worsen them. For he now had a rather bad ache in his foot, and so hopping on one foot now, he continued his storm of rage without kicking anything else. If anyone was to walk in Draco's room then God help that person because Draco was ready to kill whoever it was, and with so much anger coursing through his body he could have too.
Around dinnertime, Draco finally left his room. He had calmed down a little bit, but when he saw that Lucius had company over for dinner his temper rose right back up. Sitting at one of the extra seats was no one else but, of course, Pyrites. And if he weren't smirking with such a triumph that Draco could just keel over and die, then Draco would eat his cloak. Draco forced himself to slide into his seat across form Pyrites, and await the house-elves to bring the food.
"Good evening, Draco," Pyrites said, smirk still planted smugly on his face.
"Yes, it is," Draco replied curtly, glaring daggers at Pyrites, before adverting his eyes to his plate.
When the house elves finally brought the food, Draco began eating without paying any attention as to what it was on his plate.
"In a hurry are we Draco?" asked Lucius disapprovingly.
"Yeah I have practice tonight," Draco replied his smirking a little, as he glared at Pyrites, but answered Lucius. Draco felt something hit his foot and, looking down, he saw the little bottle that he had earlier purchased from Borgins, the one Pyrites had stolen. Draco knocked his fork purposefully to the floor so that he could retrieve the bottle. Draco slipped the tiny bottle into his pocket
"Oh? Well what's that?" Pyrites asked curiously, smirk slipping a little.
"What's what," Draco asked dangerously.
"That thing you pick up of the floor." Draco feigned surprise. "I didn't pick anything up except my fork that is,"
"Oh, my mistake, then," Pyrites smirked across at Draco.
When Draco finally reached his bedroom he slipped into his Quidditch robes and grabbed his new Firebolt, he began to rush out of the room before stopping to put the small bottle on his bed, and then raced out to his practice quidditch pitch, to play with the rest of the team. The Slytherin team had decided that they would all come here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to practice. When he got there, the rest of the team was already there.
"Hey Draco, where ya been?" asked Blaise, as Draco stalked onto the Quidditch pitch.
"Around," Draco answered in a voice of forced calm, he was still angry because of Pyrites. "Practice game, you know the teams and you know the rules. Let's get started," Draco instructed the team, who immediately began to split up into their teams. At the end of last year, Draco had been made Slytherin Team Captain, it was him who had organized these summer practices.
About ten minutes into the game, Draco saw the Snitch. With a burst of unbelievable speed, Draco shot toward it. When he was within arms length of the Snitch, he stretched out his hand and closed it around the ball. Everyone on the team cheered. Draco, who was feeling better as his anger had subsided, went over to watch his two starting beaters have a sort of tennis match with the Bludgers. The rest of the team started to takes sides and were soon making bets on who would win. Draco, put ten galleons on Blaise to win, and sure enough Blaise won the match. Blaise looked at Draco, who smirked approval at him, though he and Blaise were good friends, Blaise still worked hard for Draco's approval, it had made Blaise mad when in fourth year Draco had laughed until he was sick at Blaise for taking Millicent Bulstrode to the Yule Ball.
Soon after, the team began another match against each other, this one the two Seekers sat out--Derrick was the Slytherin team's back-up Seeker--and shouted orders at their team. After about thirty minutes, Draco's team reached two hundred and won the game.
After they finished the second practice game, Draco ran a tough two-hour practice before dismissing the team until Wednesday.
When Draco entered the Manor and stopped to grab the last water bottle out of the freezer, and was struck by how silent it was, apparently Lucius and hopefully, Pyrites, were gone to the Ministry for the night or else a Death Eater meeting.
Draco ran up the stairs into his room, where he deposited his broom before heading to his bathroom to take a shower. After he finished in the shower he put a drying charm on his hair, and he left it to hang in his face. (A/N: Ahem. If you haven't seen the third movie then you wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't understand why you haven't seen it, that would be like not having read the books. It gives me the chills.)
Before going to bed Draco packed his trunk, he liked being done with things early. As he was packing, Draco suddenly felt that something in his room was missing, but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. And then it was so obvious, how could he not have noticed it. Something was missing, something very important; something called Prucay le cine vuswaw. Draco suddenly began to feel very sick, and it wasn't just because he was nervous either, no that wasn't the reason at all...
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I just, you know, wanted to get it up before school started back up. Feedback will hurry the next chapter along, so press that little blue button over there and send me a review. Hope you like the chapter. Oh, and I should tell you the title is complements of Tsona, my beta, as well is the whole poison Ernie idea hope you enjoyed it. And don't forget R&R.
wolf
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter. What, did you actually think that I did, that's just sad. Yeah, so you know, please don't sue me.
A soft hooting noise reached a sleeping Draco Malfoy's ears, drawing him, unwillingly, away from the world of dreams. Sitting up, he cast a weary eye around the room, failing to identify the source of the noise. Slowly raising his hands, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked again, this time he noticed a brown and white barn owl, which was rather formal in appearance, perched on the windowsill. Reaching over, Draco snatched the letter off of the owl's leg and sent it on it's way with an irritated wave of his hand. Looking down, he saw that the letter was from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A letter such as this wasn't unordinary for Draco Malfoy, because Draco was a wizard, and along with about a thousand other students he attended Hogwarts, where he learned all he would ever need to know about magic. Draco would be entering his seventh and final year at Hogwarts this September 1st. After this year he planned to enter the Ministry of Magic like his father and in two years, when he turned nineteen, he would join the ranks of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and evil wizard of all time, as a Death Eater.
Slowly and neatly, Draco opened his letter, and dumped out a letter from Professor McGonagall, his booklist, and
(a head boy badge, a letter explaining why his badge couldn't be sent in the mail?)
nothing else. Draco began to shake the envelope as if trying to make something stuck inside fall out. No luck. Peering inside he saw that it was empty. He wasn't head boy? He Draco Serpento Malfoy wasn't Head Boy? Had Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, finally gone off his rocker? Oh, somebody was going to pay. Oh, they were going to pay all right. Not bothering to read the rest of what was in the envelope, Draco stormed down the hall in to the kitchen, where he found his father, Lucius Malfoy eating breakfast.
"Morning, Draco," Lucius drawled, looking up from the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Morning, Father," Draco replied curtly.
"Draco, I went into the Ministry earlier this morning and I ran into Pyrites, he had some news he thought might interest me. Do you know what he told me Draco?" Lucius was obviously annoyed about something Draco had or hadn't done.
Sighing, Draco asked, somewhat halfheartedly, to show that he didn't really care without showing disrespect, "What did he tell you, Father?"
"He told me that Ernie Macmillan was this years Head Boy, not you," Lucius answered, looking at Draco sternly.
"I guess Dumbledore has finally lost his marbles," Draco replied as he buttered his toast.
"Has he?" Lucius asked raising his eyebrows. "Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but what can I do?"
Lucius sighed, looked back down and the Daily Prophet, and continued to read signaling that this conversation was finished.
Finishing his breakfast, Draco stood from the table and announced, "I'm going to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies I'll be back in a couple of hours." He then stalked off to his room to get his book and supplies lists.
In Diagon Alley
With a rather loud pop Draco appeared in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron.
"What can I get for you young Master Malfoy?" asked Tom the toothless caretaker from behind the counter.
"Nothing, I'm not staying," Draco snapped still in a fit of rage. Draco stomped out the door to the back and tapped the bricks gaining entrance to Diagon Alley.
First, Draco went to Florish and Blott's to buy all of his new schoolbooks and also a book called Revenge at it's Best and Worst, By T.M.R.
After that he went into the store with a sign that read, Apothecary, to get his potions supplies, quills, ink, et cetera. He then proceeded to Madam Malkin's to get fitted for his new school robes, for he had grown out of his over the summer. He had in fact grown five inches.
Once he was finished, he decided to Apparate home and drop off his bags, then he would go shopping for a new broom, maybe a firebolt so that he could show Potter a thing or two.
Since it was only allowed for someone to Apparate out of Diagon Alley and not back into again, Draco Apparated into the Leaky Cauldron, after dropping off his bags at home. Looking around the small pub, he noticed Ernie Macmillan sitting at a table with some other people whom Draco didn't know. Even as Draco stood there, a plan already began forming in his mind. But first things first.
Draco practically ran from the pub in his hurry, still contemplating the plan in his mind, working out the clichés. Draco quickly bought a Firebolt without paying attention to what he was doing then ran all the way from the far end of Diagon Alley to Knockturn Alley.
Running into the first store he came upon, Draco found himself face to face with a man he knew to be Borgins; his father had done business with him before in Draco's second year when the Ministry of Magic had been issuing raids among houses.
"I need a very powerful and quick working poison," Draco stated, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he was up to something. "It's, uh, for my father, Lucius Malfoy. I believe you know him."
"Oh. Yes, of course I know him. Well, um, I normally can't sell poisons to a minor, but, well, if it's for Lucius Malfoy, then I guess I can, just this once though." Borgins looked very uncomfortable and quickly began to look through bottles of varying colors and sizes. "This is the best and fastest I have. It is called Prucay le cine vuswaw, the person or persons who drink this will keel over within in five minutes."
"I suppose this will have to work then," Draco replied in the perfect imitation of his father.
"That will be eleven galleons then, young Master Malfoy," Borgins held out his hand awaiting the money,
"Eleven! My father will NOT be happy about this Borgins, he'll have a thing or two to say about it," Draco was all but yelling right in Borgins' face.
"Okay. Okay. Um, seven Galleons, then," Borgins hurried to assure Draco that Lucius need not know about his little, "blunder."
Draco counted out the money and threw it down on the counter, "See ya," he muttered.
Draco grabbed the poison and forced his legs to walk, not run out of the store. Once he was out of Borgins' sight, he started to run until he reached the Leaky Cauldron.
Looking around he saw that Ernie and his friends were still sitting at their table. Now Draco was faced with a problem he hadn't considered, how was he going to pour the poison into Ernie's drink without anybody noticing? After a bit of quick thinking, Draco muttered a spell, causing a chair in the corner to catch fire. It took about five seconds for everyone in the pub to notice and run to put it out, Ernie and his friends among them. As soon as they were away from the table Draco popped the cap and poured the deadly poison into Ernie's drink.
Soon enough, the pub quieted down and Ernie and his friends returned to their table. Draco, who was just within earshot, heard Ernie telling all of his friends how he had gone to see Bulgaria in a Quidditch match over the summer. Pausing Ernie took a long and, unknown to him, deadly, drink from his goblet.
Five minutes.....nothing.
Ten minutes.....still nothing.
Twenty minutes.....why isn't it working?
Draco was getting irritated. Looking around the crowded pub, something, or more so someone caught his eye. Doing a double take, he saw Pyrites sitting alone at a table, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, smirking at Draco and holding up the little bottle that was the poison. Reality began to set in, Draco reached into his pocket and drew out the little bottle that he had emptied into Ernie's drink the label on it read
(Poison? Deadly? KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN?)
cherry flavoring. He had poured Cherry Flavoring into Ernie's Drink!
Fists balling up in fury, eyes ablaze, the blood in Draco's body was replaced with pure intensifying anger pumping to every inch of his body. That stupid, horrid, Little Pratt! How dare he screw up Draco's plan. Oh, and it would have worked out so perfectly.
Pyrites was a new Death Eater. He was as sly as a fox and sometimes, like now, could be a very annoying prat. Pyrites was never seen without a pair of white gloves on and he would also never give a reason for wearing the gloves. Most of the people he killed never knew he was in the room with them, which was why he was so good to have on your side. But sometimes, Draco would really rather see him dead.
When Draco had his anger under control, he turned, and stalked out of the Leaky Cauldron.
Once Draco had Apparated back into the Malfoy Manor, he was in a fit state. He was so angry at Pyrites for messing with his plan, he could have killed him.
Draco kicked his way into his bedroom, and saw that the house elves had already been through here. Still angry, he walked over to his bed and kicked the trunk at the edge of it. This did nothing, however, to improve his ill-tempered spirits, it did in fact worsen them. For he now had a rather bad ache in his foot, and so hopping on one foot now, he continued his storm of rage without kicking anything else. If anyone was to walk in Draco's room then God help that person because Draco was ready to kill whoever it was, and with so much anger coursing through his body he could have too.
Around dinnertime, Draco finally left his room. He had calmed down a little bit, but when he saw that Lucius had company over for dinner his temper rose right back up. Sitting at one of the extra seats was no one else but, of course, Pyrites. And if he weren't smirking with such a triumph that Draco could just keel over and die, then Draco would eat his cloak. Draco forced himself to slide into his seat across form Pyrites, and await the house-elves to bring the food.
"Good evening, Draco," Pyrites said, smirk still planted smugly on his face.
"Yes, it is," Draco replied curtly, glaring daggers at Pyrites, before adverting his eyes to his plate.
When the house elves finally brought the food, Draco began eating without paying any attention as to what it was on his plate.
"In a hurry are we Draco?" asked Lucius disapprovingly.
"Yeah I have practice tonight," Draco replied his smirking a little, as he glared at Pyrites, but answered Lucius. Draco felt something hit his foot and, looking down, he saw the little bottle that he had earlier purchased from Borgins, the one Pyrites had stolen. Draco knocked his fork purposefully to the floor so that he could retrieve the bottle. Draco slipped the tiny bottle into his pocket
"Oh? Well what's that?" Pyrites asked curiously, smirk slipping a little.
"What's what," Draco asked dangerously.
"That thing you pick up of the floor." Draco feigned surprise. "I didn't pick anything up except my fork that is,"
"Oh, my mistake, then," Pyrites smirked across at Draco.
When Draco finally reached his bedroom he slipped into his Quidditch robes and grabbed his new Firebolt, he began to rush out of the room before stopping to put the small bottle on his bed, and then raced out to his practice quidditch pitch, to play with the rest of the team. The Slytherin team had decided that they would all come here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to practice. When he got there, the rest of the team was already there.
"Hey Draco, where ya been?" asked Blaise, as Draco stalked onto the Quidditch pitch.
"Around," Draco answered in a voice of forced calm, he was still angry because of Pyrites. "Practice game, you know the teams and you know the rules. Let's get started," Draco instructed the team, who immediately began to split up into their teams. At the end of last year, Draco had been made Slytherin Team Captain, it was him who had organized these summer practices.
About ten minutes into the game, Draco saw the Snitch. With a burst of unbelievable speed, Draco shot toward it. When he was within arms length of the Snitch, he stretched out his hand and closed it around the ball. Everyone on the team cheered. Draco, who was feeling better as his anger had subsided, went over to watch his two starting beaters have a sort of tennis match with the Bludgers. The rest of the team started to takes sides and were soon making bets on who would win. Draco, put ten galleons on Blaise to win, and sure enough Blaise won the match. Blaise looked at Draco, who smirked approval at him, though he and Blaise were good friends, Blaise still worked hard for Draco's approval, it had made Blaise mad when in fourth year Draco had laughed until he was sick at Blaise for taking Millicent Bulstrode to the Yule Ball.
Soon after, the team began another match against each other, this one the two Seekers sat out--Derrick was the Slytherin team's back-up Seeker--and shouted orders at their team. After about thirty minutes, Draco's team reached two hundred and won the game.
After they finished the second practice game, Draco ran a tough two-hour practice before dismissing the team until Wednesday.
When Draco entered the Manor and stopped to grab the last water bottle out of the freezer, and was struck by how silent it was, apparently Lucius and hopefully, Pyrites, were gone to the Ministry for the night or else a Death Eater meeting.
Draco ran up the stairs into his room, where he deposited his broom before heading to his bathroom to take a shower. After he finished in the shower he put a drying charm on his hair, and he left it to hang in his face. (A/N: Ahem. If you haven't seen the third movie then you wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't understand why you haven't seen it, that would be like not having read the books. It gives me the chills.)
Before going to bed Draco packed his trunk, he liked being done with things early. As he was packing, Draco suddenly felt that something in his room was missing, but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. And then it was so obvious, how could he not have noticed it. Something was missing, something very important; something called Prucay le cine vuswaw. Draco suddenly began to feel very sick, and it wasn't just because he was nervous either, no that wasn't the reason at all...
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I just, you know, wanted to get it up before school started back up. Feedback will hurry the next chapter along, so press that little blue button over there and send me a review. Hope you like the chapter. Oh, and I should tell you the title is complements of Tsona, my beta, as well is the whole poison Ernie idea hope you enjoyed it. And don't forget R&R.
wolf