Disclaimer: We…that is to say…us, being two people…that is to say…two humans upon this world…that is to say…an earth or the Earth, do not…that is to say…the opposite of doing own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist…that is to say…stuff…Yeah. Nor do we own Star Trek…that is to say…William Shatner.
The cosmos pulsed. Stardate 7669: We…have entered into a world…previously unexplored by man. But instead by women. It is a turbulent, tumultuous and terrifying trail we follow. The stars, they shift and glide. They explode and sink into an oblivion of psychedelic color and…um…infidelity.
The captain's assistant's assistant, Maes Hughes, looked out over the stormy waters of the Atlantic. In one hand, he swirled the bubbly liquid of a fine shampag-en (AN: It's German) in a tall, thin glass. In the other, he weakly gripped at the remains of his happiness, a shadow of the man he once was: a certified anesthesiologist.
Upon the deck danced dozens of dainty damsels in delightful discourse. It was delightful; it was delicious; it was delovely. Twirling amidst the spinning splendors of the passengers, the eyes of one particular lady looked over and met his own agonizing russet rubles. (AN: What the hell?!) Suddenly, he remembered Russia, and the petite dame with the large posterior who had taken him shopping in París. "París holds the key to your heart…" Hughes sang nostalgically.
(AN: From this point on, italics represent flashbacks.)
"Comment marche la douche?" Sophie asked Hughes.
"I know that it's been difficult for you," he replied. "But you must understand that no one, no one, no one can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you."
"Je regarde seulement," she said sadly.
With a deep sigh, Hughes asked her, "Will you come away with me?"
"La ferme, Pierre!" she shouted.
He turned his head, and he did judo. End of flashback.
The sinkable Molly Weasley stared up at the captain's assistant's assistant with dreamy eyes. In the front of the boat, unseen by everyone, a famous actor was assaulting a redheaded woman. "I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!" he shouted.
"THAT WAS MY EARDRUM!" she replied. "I'LL SEE YOU IN COURT! I'M HAVING AN AFFAIR!"
As soon as their eyes met (Hughes and Molly Weasley), and it was the beginning of the story of a lovely lady who was bringing up six very magical boys and a girl (who was snogging everyone). All of them had hair of red like their mother, the youngest one a whore. And the story of a man named Maes…y, who was bringing up one girl of his own. There were two men living all together (because her mother was actually a man), yet they were all alone. Until the one day when the lady met this fellow, and they knew that it was much more than a crunch…ICEBERG AHEAD!
They were married in the May of 1912, and began their new life together in the little borough of Shambala. But one member of the family wasn't happy. Ron Weasley lay upon his bed, kicking his heels to and fro and gossiping with his good friend Hairy, who was conveniently very hairy. He was very dramatical. "And it's just…like…my stepdad just doesn't get me. It seriously makes me cut myself 'cause he won't buy me a BMW. (Ref. Kim R.)"
Hairy shook his head sympathetically and tsked. "Man, that's some crazy shit that happens all up in here. I be thinkin' you just need to get out…get out and dance. Please to be hookin' up one of these fine ladies in da club." Because everyone knew that Hairy was a pimp, the best pimp this side of any location.
And so…thirty minutes later, they were in da club. (Insert background music: Usher singing "Love in This Club.") But it was the wrong club! It was a gay club! So they had to leave and go to the right club, which was a country club, where your snobby rich best friend's mom was playing tennis with the man she was having an affair with for four years…FOUR YEARS, and she never told us anything! She was my Sunday school teacher! I TRUSTED that whore! (Bitter much?)
Anyways…um…where were we?
As he entered the club, the bouncer turned to Hairy and said, "No!"
Hairy said, "But, my friend!"
"None shall pass!" the bouncer retorted.
"What?!" Hairy shouted. "You're going to discriminate against me because I have breasts?! Exquisite breasts?!" He ripped off his shirt, and lo and behold…he did.
Ron turned about in horror, for he understood suddenly, the feelings he had felt ever since that day long ago in París…
Sophie turned to Hairy and spoke in soft but ardent tones, "Tu peux me passer le beurre?"
Hairy blushed from head to toe and looked incredulous. "But we've only known each other a day."
"Je ne sais pas nager!" Sophie protested.
Ron slammed his clenched fist on the tabletop, rattling the fine china. "You bitch! You whore! You…you…" And he stormed out of the room, knowing that he could not take it anymore, watching the man that he loved, stolen from right beneath his fingertips by a large-posteriored, possibly of Russian ancestry, Frenchwoman, who liked to shop.
"I ALWAYS KNEW I WASN'T GAY!"
And they ran off into the night together. Okay.
Back at the Weasley household, Molly Weasley was in tears. Her sobs echoed and pulsed like the cosmos. "I think this relationship is tearing apart the family! My eldest are scruffy-looking and irrelevant to the plot! My twins are there…somewhere…! Ron is run off with a man whom I thought was a woman but was told was a man but actually turned out to be a woman! And Ginny is snogging everybody! We can no longer be together, you and I!"
"The truth is I LOVE YOU, MOLLY WEASLEY! Family be damned!" Hughes shouted.
"But what about your daughter, who we forgot to mention in the last paragraph?"
"I'll send her to the mother and pay the child support! Just don't leave me, Molly Weasley!"
"OKAY!" And as she stood, she became lightheaded and stumbled, and as everyone knows…she MUST BE PREGNANT!
I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE YELLING ABOUT! LOUD NOISES!
So then they had sex and smoked a cigarette, and it was great. And in the bushes beneath the nearby window, the garden gnomes sniggered knowingly…