Lord Gigglyshorts was having a very bad day. It started out nice enough, with a fruity smoothie and a nice breakfast bar, apricot flavored of course. Then, it had taken a turn for the worse. He had gone to the Stalker family residence to convert their young son, Harry, to the Rainbow Eaters. Whipping out 'his' plussized wand out of a place you don't really want to know, he shrilly screeched, "Avadakafruity!" blowing Mr. James Stalker off of his feet in a pretty pink blast of fruity delight. Mrs. Lily Stalker ran off, dragging little Harry by the hair and smashing him into several walls in the process. Talk about child endangerment.
Following on fruity feet, Lord Gigglysorts stalked her like a fat, pink cloaked cat. Cornering her, he fruitified her in homosexual ways you don't want to know, leaving her quite speechless. And dead. Looking down, his feet planted far apart, he gaped in flaming shock. "That worked!?" He exclaimed, re-buttoning the only thing he was wearing, a flamboyant pink cloak. Walking on fruity clouds of glory, he floated over to poor, hairless Harry, standing directly over him and scarring the poor boy mentally.
"Avadakafruity!" The Pink lord shouted, a pink bolt of lightning flying at the orphaned boy. Bending over, the not so chosen one let rip a disgusting, wet explosion of green gas from his hairless, pink bum. The beam of an intense fruity pleasure shot back at the Giggling One. His pink cloak ripped from his fat naked body, he stood there and scarred Harry for the second time in as many minutes.
"I think I just schat myself." The pink destroyer of muggles muttered, blowing up into several explosions of fruity smelling rainbow colored light. The explosion blew the entire hall and roof in front of Harry into oblivion, also destroying Dora and Boots. Dora and Boots had been in the attic, having some 'fun' with alcohol and pink party balloons. Harry sat there, his mouth gaping and his face contorted into the universal WTF!? expression. Above, a loud creaking sounded, dropping several thousand beer bottles on his little head, somehow only leaving only a thin, banana shaped scar.
After several hours of confused blinking on Harry's part, a loud blast of heavy rap music floated through the decimated house. Outside, a bouncing, beat up old Camaro came to a jumping stop, going up and down as a large man got out. "Yo, yo, yo! Dumbledo is in the house!" The headmaster of Pigfat yelled. The heavily pierced old man was wearing black leather biker threads, his smallish goatee and massive gray Mohawk bobbing up and down. His diamond studded pimp cane glowed in the moonlight, while he screamed. "McGonnahoe! Yo pimp wants you."
From the backseat of the car, a tall older woman wearing a skimpy purple pantsuit jumped out and did a little dance.. Dumbledoe growled angrily and pimp slapped his beyotch. "Young Harray!" He called up, waving his hands in complicated seeming hand gestures. Harry cried out in fear of this majorly screwed up world, his little green eyes shedding glistening tears. Dumbledoe sighed.
"Yo Harray!" he yelled, as a throbbing bass beat blew around. "My name is Dumbledoe! I used to catch snitches, now I catch witches!" McGonnahoe did a very crappy version of the air hump, causing an enraged Dumbledoe to 'slap that funky witch.'

"Yo!

My name is Dumbledoe!

My byoetch is McGonnahoe!

I slap that funky witch

I pimp for gold

Don't need no silver sickles

I want gold

Yeah!

I'm Dumbledoe!

Dum

Ble

Doe!

Feck that, hoe!"

Dumbledoe did the moonwalk very badly, tripping over several rocks in the process. Getting to his slipper clad feet; he slapped McGonnahoe and disappeared, reappearing two hours later next to Harry. "That was fun." The professor said. "It feels good to let it all out." He said, picking up poor, nearly bald Harry by the hair. Dragging the boy down the stairs, Dumbledoe threw the infant into the backseat, while Dumbledoe and McGonnahoe sat in the front, having talking about alcohol and the now burned out house.

After several long hours of driving, they came to a screeching halt outside of a decimated house. From under the door, smoke curled in annoyingly smelling clouds. Throwing a Moltov Cocktail at the front door, Dumbledoe got out, dragging Harry behind him like a blanket. From the door, came a fat, horse faced lady, a thick white cigarette in her mouth and a massive shotgun in her bony hands. "What you want?" The ugly lady asked, causing Dumbledoe to slap her for her rudeness.

"Take this baby or I'm gonna pop a cap in yo rear." The ugly lady nodded nervously, ruffling her fishnet clothing.
"Who's the babies momma?" She asked, grabbing the boy by the rear.

"Yo sista's." Dumbledoe said, pimp slapping her again. "Take the baby or I pop a cap in yo butt." The ugly lady nodded and dragged Harry away by the rear. Dumbledoe rolled his eyes and walked back to his bouncy car. His ugly aunt, Dipshif, threw him into the sink, and walked back to her skinny husband and picked up her crack pipe, sighing contentedly as she felt the crack taking effect. Baby Harry fell asleep in the cold, wet and moldy sink, the sound of bubbling crack and the sound of a baby boy screaming and moaning about male underwear models the last sound he heard before he fell asleep.