Harry Potter & The Dark Lord's New Nose
"WORMTAIL!" screeched Lord Voldemort one morning as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped his blue toweling robe around his skeletal frame.
Wormtail, a short, balding little man with a face that rather resembled that of a rat, came scurrying into the room looking timid and frightened of his master's call.
"Yes master?" he stammered, stooping into a bow so low that the fine hairs on his head touched the floor.
"Wormtail, I have come to realise that people are becoming less fearful of me as they once were."
"Master, no-"
"Do not interrupt me, Wormtail!" hissed Voldemort warningly. "As I was saying, I am becoming increasingly worried that certain witches and wizards feel it is perfectly acceptable to make a mockery of me!
"Master, never-"
"What did I tell you?!" said Voldemort, his voice rising dangerously.
"I deeply appologise Master!" beseeched Wormtail, kissing the hem of Voldemort's toweling robe.
"Get up!" commanded Voldemort. "Look at me! What do you feel when you see my face?"
"Master, I-"
"I know what you're thinking!" said Voldemort, "You're thinking how ridiculous I look now that my nose is no longer…in tact." Voldemort paused. "Wormtail, you know how I usually despise Muggle antidotes but I am becoming desperate… I am afraid I require… a nose job!"