Ronald Weaselbee and the Crazy, Deranged Shippers From Hell.
Summary: Everyone knew it would happen eventually. No one could hang around that 'muggle-loving-heroic-arrogant-off-balance-lunatic-"Boy-Who-Lived"-"Chosen-One"-Harry-Potter' for long without going mad. Most people were just waiting to see when Ron would crack.
Rating: PG for: conga lines, indecent... everything (lol), and shippers. Normal ones, like you or you. OH AND THOSE REALLY ANNOYING FANFICTION AUTHOR'S NOTES THAT POP UP EVERY FOUR LINES. Don't you hate them?
Genre: Parody. Anything that is called "Ronald Weaselbee and the Crazy, Deranged Shippers From Hell", sort of has to be a parody, you catching my drift? It's also a parody of fanfictions. TERRIBLE fanfictions.
Horror. It's so utterly perverted. I don't know what got into me!
Pairings: Well, if I told you, then, it wouldn't be as… hm… fine, then. I'll tell you. Most pairings.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling rules the world, blah, blah, blah. We all suck, blah, blah, blah. I'm poor, blah, blah, blah. I'm a thirteen-year-old, blah, blah, blah. TRALFAZ IS MINE! AS IS THIS CRAZY IDEA, THAT NO ONE WOULD HAVE BAD ENOUGH JUDGEMENT TO STEAL, ANYWAY! MUWA HA HA!
A/N: Well, the next chapter for "Muggle Studies Mayhem" is ready, BUT, it's only the first part of "September Closure". So, do you want it out on its own, or out with the other parts? Tell me… or else you're waiting. For a month. Backwards.
…
Don't ask me…
(STARSTARSTAR)
Ronald Weaselbee and the Crazy, Deranged Shippers From Hell.
(STARSTARSTAR)
Ron was grumpy. He was wearing an ugly sweater that his mother had knitted. It was blue, like always (says the fanfiction writer who has never read a book in her life) and had purple, yellow and green polka dots, a furry knitted ruff that continued to squeak and move of its own accord, and three pink tassels on each shoulder. He was wearing a sparkly green party hat to match. And bunny slippers. And carried the head of a demented fanfiction writer on a pole. The head of a fanfiction writer who spent way too much time surmising wardrobe choices of her characters, rather than getting on with the story.
"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley?"
"WHAT?" Ron screeched. His eye was ticking madly and his left foot was stomping. His tassels swung dangerously.
"Um… you're standing on my sister…" Colin Creevey squeaked.
"Oh," grunted Ron stupidly, getting off Denis. Denis tottered up, grinning madly and latched onto his brother. The Colin and Denis shippers get all "dewy-eyed" and clasp each others hands in happiness. Then they're all transported back to the alien planet they came from, and the author switched back to past tense.
"I was stomped on by the Weasel boy!" he mouthed to Colin, even though Colin was standing right next to him. Ron stormed away, his tassels swinging madly. He stepped out of his slippers and dropped his 'fanfiction-author's-head' staff with a clatter. He paid no mind, glad to be rid of the offending accessories.
"Oi! Weaslebrains!" Malfoy squealed, seeing Ron come charging down the corridor. Flanked by his cronies, the little blonde faggot was not frightening in the least. Crabbe and Goyle, donning their nightwear of drag queen dresses and extravagant stage make-up, looked much, much more scary.
"WHAT?" Ron screeched.
"Scathing remark about your mother," Malfoy stated. The author, had she been less lazy and more imaginative would have put a proper insult in, but, since she wasn't, she didn't. Malfoy flipped his hair out of his eyes in a 'Lucy Lui-cross-Cameron Diaz-cross-Sideshow-Alley-Freak' way and batted his eyelashes at Ron.
"WHAT?" Ron screeched, for the third time.
"I said," huffed Draco impatiently, "Scathing remark about your mother."
"Oh," grunted Ron stupidly. "I'm not… standing on yours- am I?" Ron asked awkwardly looking at the floor, and it was Malfoy's turn to screech, "WHAT?" in an incredibly, frighteningly, girly manner. Ron jumped and Malfoy smiled, genuinely.
"By the way, just loooove the sweater, Won Won!" Draco batted his eyelashes again, and giggled.
"I'm just so insecure," Ron wailed and he ran off crying, into the girls' bathrooms where he was pelted with shoes, peacocks and jack-in-the-boxes until he found Hermione. He tore off his sweater, and dislodged his party hat in the process. Ron and Hermione shippers, who had been hiding in the adjacent cubicles squealed and cheered, egging him on. "Strip! Strip! Strip!" they chanted. Ron became unnerved by the faceless chanters and focused all his un-jumpered glory on Hermione.
"'Mione!" he wailed, distraught, shortening her name to the sickeningly overused fanfiction abbreviation which has never once been mentioned in the books. "D-draco was being m-m-mean to me!" he stuttered through his tears.
"There, there, Won Won. It'll all be alright. Why don't we go and tellUncle Harry -" ("Incest!" cried the wayward Harry and Ron shippers who had gotten side-tracked on their way to the dungeons)"-what happened. He's "the Chosen Captain", "The Boy Who Scored"; he'll know what to do!" Ron nodded obediently, and together Hermione and Ron shuffled out of the girls' toilets and down to the dungeons where Harry was doing another of his suspiciously frequent detentions with Snape.
"Harry!" Ron cried, bursting into the lair… I mean, office… yes… bursting into the office of Professor Severus Snape. Snape and Harry, who had been doing nasty, nasty things on the Professor's desk, gasped and jumped away from each other. The Snape and Harry shippers who had been watching all along, stopped their swooning and squealing in delight to glare venomously at the intruders, who dared to interrupt the Harry and Snape... moment.
(A/N: Fanfiction author randomly puts in a random input that no one wants to hear, yabbers on about her dog that she doesn't have, cackles evilly and says, "Right! On with the story! (STARSTARSTAR)")
"Ahem… now, Slave," Snape coughed, "I mean, uh, Potter, get back to scrubbing the…" He looked around lost. There was just so much he could make Potter scrub.
The Snape and Harry shippers who were now sitting under Snape's desk all shouted, "wink, wink! Nudge, nugde! Cough, cough! Choke, choke! Shut up, and get on with it, you blithering excuse for a fanfiction writer!" loudly before grabbing the magical Acid Pops and burning holes in the desk panelling behind which they were sitting.
"Um… jars of twisted, demented, indescribable concoctions behind your desk?" Harry offered, getting back to the story and looking for a rag. Unfortunately, as Snape had never cleaned nor had anything cleaned in his life, Harry's search for a cloth went unfulfilled. Desperate, Harry lifted the hem of his robes, and began rubbing the jar of chicken brains and otter wings on the second shelf. The unbalancedHarry and Harry shippersswooned (A/N: POINTLESS MESSAGE THAT EVERYONE ELSE HAS ALREADY GATHERED FOR THEMSELVES AND REALLY HATE BEING TOLD BECAUSE IT'S SO OBVIOUS AND IS DISRUPTING THE "FLOW" OF THE STORY: Don't you just love that word? Swooned! "BACK TO THE STORY!" (STARSTARSTAR))then disappeared back to the freak-show they came from.
"Professor?" questioned Hermione, but Snape, as usual, wasn't paying attention. Instead, he was eying Harry's now revealed legs with keen interest. Snape and Harry shippers swooned ()and squealed in delight, again, rubbing the Acid Pops excitedly along the legs of the teacher's desk. "Um, Professor?" Snape still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, let's go to the library, instead, Ron. Ron? Ronald!" Ron wasn't paying attention anymore either. He, too, was observing the hypnotic flexing action of Harry's calves as he stood on tiptoes to wipe the next jar. The Harry and Ron shippers, who had, of course beat Ron to the dungeons, as they had headed there first, sighed and ogledHarry's revealed lower legs.
Hermione let out a frustrated scream and stared at Harry's legs as well. The Harry and Hermione shippers, who had somehow been let out of the loony bin, and into Snape's office, whooped and cheered. The Ron and Hermione shippers, who were all perfectly sane, grabbed their broomsticks, smeltings sticks and Harry Potter books, and beat some sense into the cheering lunatics. Hermione stomped out of the office.
"What do you want, Weaselbee?" Harry asked, wanting to get back to his (cough)"detention"(cough) with Snape.
"WHAT?" Ron screeched for the fourth time that night.
"I said-"
"I know what you said, you-you… Slytherin!"
"Hey!" shouted Snape and Harry together. They blushed. Ron's eye twitched.
"You called me "Weaselbee"." Harry stared at Ron.
"Well... er-yes… your point? Everyone calls you Weaselbee… or Weaselbrains- plain 'Weasel' is quite popular as well. Oh, and-"
"Shut up!" Ron squeaked, for lack of better word, and the fact that he was gettingquite upset now. "I'm not a weasel. I'm a Weasley."
"And, the difference is…?" Snape slimed. Slime shippers from the planet Tralfaz (copywrite- personal joke between me and my father. NO, he does NOT read fanfiction, but, you know... keep off...(author's eyes twitch) ) beeped incoherently, muttered something in a language too difficult to comprehend ("Dis sux, m8. Wanna go reed gd stori? go 2 mrs claire potter- w/ da capitals of cors- adn reed her stuf.")
"Aiii(pttttttrr)eee," Ron intoned, before he whipped out his wand. "I keel you all! Widdle Voldems is no match for the Weaselator!" Ron cackled, then 'alohamora'd Snape. Snape turned inside out.
"My lover!" screamed Harry, in a most undignified way. He coughed, gathered himself together and said, "I mean, uh,cool." He coughed again.
"Let's go find 'Mione," Ron suggested, forgetting the inside-out-turned teacher on the floor.
"I'm already here, Won Won. What's goin' down, brother?" Harry and Ron exchanged a "glance" of little to no meaning, then stared at Hermione. "Sor-ry," she sniffed, "just trying to, ya'll know: get jiggy wit' da times?" Ron and Harry stared. "Huff," she huffed. Then, conveniently, she spotted Snape, so the author doesn't have to write about Harry and Ron staring, and Hermione doing terrible impersonations of… something.
"OMF(ree King)G!" she said. Well, hyperventilated, really. "YOU ATTACKED A TEACHER! YOU ATTACKED A TEACHER!" she contiunued to hyperventilate violentlyand, going against everything she had ever read in every book about hyperventilation, she attempted tosave herself by jumping on Ron and snogging his brains out. Ron and Hermione shippers die after finally witnessing what they'd all been waiting for, for the last three million books. Luckily for them, I suppose, they missed the words that spilled from ickle Ronniekin's forcefully molested mouth.
"My poor virgin lips!"horrified (can you do that? You know, 'horrify', rather than scream or something? I know, you can't but it fits... sort of.)Ron, before running, crying, (yes, crying,again- he is only a Weasel, after all... then again, again... you don't see Ginny crying. Then again, again, again... you don't see Ginny at all...)to a miffed and emotionally pressuredHarry. (OMGWTF?)
(BRACKET FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON, EXCEPT THAT THE LAST PARAGRAPH WAS SO FULL OF THEM, IT'S OFFICIAL THAT THIS STORY HAS JUMPED SHIP AND RELOCATED TO A TROPICAL ISLAND, SOUTH OF ANTARCTICA (pun intended, lame as it may be))
(BRACKETBRACKET)
"You murdered my lover, expect no sympathy," Harry squeaked coldly. And, he being "the Boy Who Lived", "The Greatest Ruddy Quidditch Player Hogwarts Has Ever Seen", "The Boy Who Conjured a Patronus in His Third Year" and "The Boy Who Literally Couldn't Play a Game of Chess to Save His Life", pulled offthe evil, shrill, chirrup exceptionally well. Then he, too, went mad. Not that no one was expecting it, of course. "IT'S NOT FAIR! HE WAS THEIR FRIEND! HE WAS THEIR FRIEND AND HE BETRAYED THEM! I HOPE HE FINDS ME, BECAUSE WHEN HE DOES, I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"
"Harry," stage-whispered Hermione. "That's already happened. In the third movie. We're up to the bajillionth book, now, but, of course, J.K. Rowling isn't deeming it important enough to actuallyfinish yet, so we have to hang around in the fictional limbo while her obedient minions, followers, cult-like fanclubs and so on, go bonkers and bananas with impatience and end up writing sorry excuses for 'stories', horribly misusing, mispairing and miscalculating her marvellous, smashing, extra-terrestrial characters... anyway...What were we talking about?" She gaveHarry a confused look (Harry and Hermione shippers in the vicinity all whistle, while still being beat sensible with anything the Ron and Hermione shippers can get their hands on) and seemed to run over thelast five minutes' conversation in her head. "Oh, right! It wasn't Sirius who betrayed them, as you know,it was Pettigrew. And the movie directors, sort of betrayed you, too, by adding in that overly-cheesed-emotionally-charged-"he has to learn how to act in dramatic parts sometimes, so why not now?"-line. And it was technically Snape who got your family in all the trouble to begin with."
"You insult my lover, too! Och, he's not attractive-" (Author then goes on to explain that that last little "pun" which made no sense to any body, is actually a personal joke that no one wants to know about.) "-Oops," Harry apologised, blushing."Oh, caramels. Where were me- I mean, we- before Hermione's and my little conversational interlude?" While the Harry and Hermione shippers, who had escaped the... reasonably... sane Ron and Hermione shippers' beatings, giggled and "wink, wink! Nudge, nudge"d the audience who had crammed themselves into Snape's office, before running away at the obviously demented, twisted, nonsensical, rubbishy gibberish this poor, lowly fanfiction author was spurting out. All the Harry and Hermione shippers fell, dead on the floor, when their audience departed. Ron decided to end their little nudging fest by picking up the "plot" where it left off. The Ron and Hermione shippers, who had risen from the dead, just to die again before the next line, dropped like flies and began decomposing immediately.
"Uh, oh, yeah! My virgin lips!" cried Ron, before running away from Harry, so he could then run, crying, to Harry, as he was supposed to.
"There, there, Ron. At least it was Hermione; 'coulda been worse!"
"Are you kidding?" Harry and Hermione shippers resurrect themselves and dance with glee. Then die again, to be resurrected at a more appropriate time. "I always wanted my special kiss to go to-"
"Oh, shut up already." Hermione said, offended,while Ron pondered who it was he wanted to kiss first.
"Percy!" shouted Ron, received weird looks from two-thirds of the "Trio", blushed 'til his ears combusted, and sat on the floor, and sang "I'm a Little Teapot" in a talented round with himself and the Ron and Random Weasley shippers. Of which there were six. Their little song sounded quite good, and Harry and Hermione bopped along to the tune until Hermione decided to get back down to business. Which was probably a good thing.
"Now, Won Won, what was it you wanted to tell Uncle Harry?"
"Uncle!" cried the Harry and Ron shippers, who were always up for a bit of brotherly (um... "UNCLE"?) incest.
"Oh, that's right," Ron said siriusly, snapping out of his nursery-ryhme-induced stupor. "Malfoy was mean to me." Ron pouted.
(A/N: ANOTHER RANDOM, BUT ANNOYINGLY FREQUENTAUTHOR'S NOTE, THAT EVERYBODY HATES! Aww, how cute! Ickle Wonniekins is pouting! Sweet! "Back to the plotless drivel!")
"Aw, poor little Ron," Harry and Ron shippers dance with glee before they're all burnt at the stake. "What did the big mean old Malfoy-with-his-greasy-knickers-on-backwards say to you?" Harry and Draco shippers dance with glee. Malfoy had to be doing something to get those knickers on the wrong way 'round. "Hint, hint! Wink, wink! Nudge, nudge!" they hinted, winked and nudged.
"He-he said (scathing remark about Ron's mother)," Ron sputtered, as he burst into fresh tears again. "Then he started flirting with me, and said that he "loooove"d my j-j-jumper!" Ron wailed. He was drowned out, however, by the deafening cheers of thousands and thousands of Ron and Draco shippers, who had appeared from nowhere to squeeze themselves into Snape's office, only to disappear again, almost instantaneously.
"Aw, it'll be alright, Ronniekins." Harry comforted. Sighs of bliss could be heard from the three lonely Harry and Ron shippers who managed not to get fried on a stick. Ron's head darted up.
"Those sighs! It's the girls from Beauxbatons! That co-ed school that the movie directors were to lazy to find boys for! Oh, the butterflies, the butterflies!"
Ron stood up, and danced the cha-cha to "Three Blind Mice". Hermione grabbed his waist and they began a conga line out of the dungeon office. Harry grabbed Hermione's waist and the desk finally collapsed on the Snape and Harry shippers who were still hiding there. Soon, as if by magic, the whole school was dancing a magnificent conga line, chanting "Conga, conga CON-GA!" repetitively, which ended, as all good conga lines do, in a food fight. Dumbledore laughed the whole time, joined in, broke his back and fell out of the ceiling, only to be refused access by none other than…
Mrs Norris!
Then he blasted a hole in the unbreakable wall, clambered through, and joined in the fun again, mysteriously healthy and well again. Just like magic. WOW-W-W!
Professor MacGonagall had finally let her hair out of a bun that had been tied in since the day she grew hair. The students were showered with bugs and spiders' webs, along with a few random sweets and an Acid Pop. Once the dust had cleared, everybody was amazed. Her hair was… blonde! It was also covered in grease, clinging dust particles and a clove of garlic that Professor Quirrel had slipped in there when he thought no one could have seen or smelled his deeds. Snape had noticed, but he didn't say anything. He loved the scent of slowly rotting garlic, mixed with the essence of old lady- it reminded him of himself.
Snape was back alive, of course,and was snogging joyfully with a surprisingly willing Professor Flitwick.
Argus Filch looked on at the school's outrageous and tremendous funand occasionally plucked up the courage to throw a treacle tart. All the ones that Harry hadn't eaten, of course. Harry was sitting with a bloated stomach that cained like a hangover, and looked just as bad. When that got boring, Filch grabbed a Durmstrang girl, who, of course, shouldn't have existed, and began dancing the tango with her across the Ravenclaw table. The girl began to cry.
"I'm no longer a Squib!" he shouted gleefully, ignoring the blubbering girl. Everyone silenced, before applauding him and his conjured Durmstrang girl.
"I'm every so sorry to burst your boisterous bubble, Argus," Dumbledore said calmly, his piercing blue eyes making dents in the caretaker's favourite sackwear, "But I'm afraid that's no Durmstrang girl, you've got there. That's Cho Chang; can't you tell, she's crying!"
"Oh," said Mr. Filch stupidly. "Then… I'm still a Squib, am I?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"And, now… everybody knows?"
Dumbledore nodded again.
"Well! That's a load off my shoulders! Phew! Anyone for a piggy-back ride?"
"Oh! Oh! Me, please! Me, please!" Crabbe shouted, speaking for the first time in his life. He had an amazingly strong elvish accent, which explained all of the strange grunting noises he usually made- he was speaking elvish! His clan must have thought him a dud and sent lumpy him and his lumpyfather to wizarding schoolto see if he could fix the problem. He ambled heavily over to Filch.
"Right-o, son! Hang on!" Filch tore off his robes (the Crabbe and Filch shipper in the crowd goes wild) and Crabbe leaped onto his naked (how indecent!) back.
However, as Crabbe was built like an ox, (keep in mind that he had much less brain capacity than one- so much for an elf) he didn't figure, that a one-hundred-year-old caretaker, who had hardly ever seen the light of day, would be unable to handle, let alone carry the lump of lard that he was. So, unfortunately, Filch was crushed, and Crabbe had to be "put to sleep" because he broke his ankle.
"Avada Kedavra!" Dumbledore shouted, putting Crabbe out of his misery. Goyle began crying. "Avada Kedavra!" Dumbledore shouted, putting Goyle out of his misery as well. "Avada Kedavra!" Dumbledore shouted, killing Mrs Norris, because no one was going to look after her now that Filch was gone.
"Say," said Ron. "That looks like fun! Will you excuse me, 'Mione?" Ron pleasantly asked his girlfriend. She slapped him.
"How many times have I told you! My name is Freehs-Ghuim Jones. Not "'Mione"!" Freehs-Ghuim Jones stormed off, and started snogging with Cho Chang, who stopped crying long enough to fulfil the dreams of all the Cho Chang andFreehs-Ghuim Jones shippers watching from the staff table.
Well, Professor Trelawney looked very absorbed in all the "action" anyway.
"Ah, well," Ron said wisely, "Now that she's gone, I can run wild and free! And do whatever that thing that Dumbledore was doing is!"
He pottered over to where his headmaster was standing. "Um, Professor Dumbledore, sir?"
"Yeeeeees?" Dumbledore inquired, an eerietwinkle in his eye.
"Uh," grunted Ron, a little unnerved by his Professor's enthusiasm and… seductive tone. "Can you show me-" Ron and Dumbledore shippers wait with baited breath for Ron to finish his question. But, since he's such a blathering git, it took quite a while and they zoned out, deciding to become Cho Chang and Freehs-Ghuim Jones shippers instead, as the two of them were still going at it.
"Yeeeeees?" Dumbledore said again, urging Ron to continue, the twinkle still in his barmy-old-pervert eyes.
"Can you show me how to, you know, Adava Kedvarda?"
"Good God, boy!" Dumbledore calmly stated."How do you expect to learn if you listen to nothing?"
"Well, usually 'Mione tells me stuff and all-"
"Well, Miss Granger is not here to tell you what to do now-"
"Well, actually, sir, I am here; never miss an opportunity to learn something new! And, Ronald, you're saying it wrong. It's Wingardium Leviosa, not Adava Kedvarda."
"Alright, if you're so clever, you do it then!"
"Fine! Avada Kedavra!" A bolt of green light shot out of the tip of her wand and engulfed the resurrected Snape, who just happened to move away from Flitwick tobe standing in Hermione's line of fire. Hermione, who had missed his coming alive again was ever so confused, as she was certain she had witnessed him suffering from the effects of being"alohamora"ed.
"You killed my lover!" Flitwick squeaked, before he was slapped my Harry.
"You, devil! You made out with my formerly dead lover!"
"But, say, Mr. Potter... he is dead now... what do you say to some... make-up kisses?"
"But-but... he's dead. I'm so not kissing a corpse. Eew!"
"No, Mr. Potter. I meant with me."
"Oh. I thought I said I wouldn't kiss corpses?"
"Yes, you- hey! That's- that- ooh... shuddup, and come here, sexy!" and with that, Professor Flitwick jumped on a conveniently placed table so he could reach Harry's "grown-a-foot-over-the-holidays" head, and began snogging his brains out. Flitwick and Harry shippers cheer and begin the dreaded "slow clap". Becky would be so proud.
"Oh... that's not fair," Ron whimpered. "I've grown, too..."
And now, after that... pleasant...perverted...whatever, we tune back in to-
"Well done! Miss Granger's done it! Three million points to Gryfinndor!" Dumbledore crowed, stealing the occupied Flitwick's line.
"But, sir! I attacked a teacher!" Hermione shrieked, as the author could think of nothing better to say but 'shrieked'.
"Fine, then, Miss 'I-must-be-perfect-in-every-way-or-else-my-dentist-muggle-parents-who-don't-read-the-papers-or-pay-attention-to-anything-I-do-anyway-will-kill-me-and-use-my-spun-out-inards-as-dental-floss-for-their-grotty-patients'-teeth', have it your way. One point off Gryfinndor for the unprovoked attack on a member of staff." Dumbledore huffed. Hermione glowed and patted his arm.
"See, doesn't that make you feel good, Professor Dumbledore, sir?"
"I'm going to ignore the rather blatant innuendos behind that comment, as the author didn't realise they were in there until after she had written them, and has a strange aversion to the backspace key, and start another conga line. What do you say, Miss Granger?"
"I say, okay, Dumbledore, Professor, sir!" Hermione and Dumbldore shippers scream their heads off and begin a conga line up to the North Tower, where they all conveniently fall out of a window.
"Hey!" shouted Ron, who was sick of being ignored.
"Yeeeeees, Weaselbee?"
Ron's eye began ticking madly and his left foot began stomping. "Don't call me that! I shall obliterate all purebloods! And you, Dumbledore, because I don't know whether you're a man or a mouse, a teacher or a drug dealer, a carrot or a chicken or a fish finger! Die! The lot of you! I keel you ALL! MUWA HA HA!" And Ronald Weasley cracked. He 'Avada Kedavra'ed everyone he saw.
Soon, the only people left were the Crazy, Deranged Shippers From Hell. And they were happy.
"Won Won!" They cried, and, in the smouldering wreckage of the former Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even though they're both taught the same thing, and makes the place sound sexist and unethical, the Shippers From Hell got their wish.
Because the Shippers From Hell, were of course…
THE ANYBODY and OC/EXCHANGE STUDENT/SELF-INSERT SHIPPERS!
…the worst of the lot of them. And between the four-hundred-thousand-or-so of them, they had one Ickle Ronniekins. And if that wasn't a cause to be happy, they didn't know what was.
"Crookshanks!" Ron cried running to the furry, squash-faced feline. And began snogging it. It was, of course dead. But, Ron didn't care. The Shippers From Hell disappeared in a puff of polka-dotted-pink-tasselled smoke, and the single Ron and Crookshanks shipper prevailed, took over the world, then killed off all of its petty minions. She revived Crookshanks, because "where's the fun in not?"
Crookshanks and Ron went on to have lots of little-Crookshanks-and-Ron-demented-furry-half-bloods, who were all ultimately killed by the single Ron and Crookshanks shipper. Crookshanks got hit by a bus a year after the first litter was born, and Ron was driving the bus. The single Ron and Crookshanks shipper then killed Ron, as Crookshanks wasn't around anymore for her to 'ship' and have "fun" with.
And so ends the tail of Ron Weaselbee and the Crazy, Deranged Shippers From Hell. Wasn't it… different…no?
(STARSTARSTAR)
Well… uh… what can you say?
My excuses are, it's New Years Eve… day… and it's five-to-one in the morning. Meh. I've done stranger things.
Not much stranger, but, you know…
HAPPY NEW YEAR! 2006-01-01 HERE WE COME!
2006: OMF(ree King)G. WHAT THE HELL HAVE I GOT MYSELF INTO?
…: A pair of really ugly pyjama pants and a toggle hat. Nice bathers though. And the old fogey hat- that's a nice touch.
2006: Why, thank you. My grandmother chose it for me.
(STARSTARSTAR)