A/N: We were bored. We were very, very bored. Ashley came up with the idea that we should write a crackfic, Brett came up with the basic plot. Then we collaborated.

Disclaimer: We don't own Wicked or Harry Potter. We're both huge fans, though.

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It was a stormy day, and Harry was left all alone at the house (Ginny was in therapy for her orinthophobia and Ron had murdered the children). He had decided to make himself a sandwich, and Ginny strongly beloved in only homemade bread, so now he had to cut it.

He secretly had a favorite knife. In fact, this knife was named The Trusty Rusty Knife and it would...well, it would talk to Harry. When he cut the sourdough bread (the only kind Ginny would allow), this was the knife he would always choose.

Normally the Trusty Rusty Knife (Trife for short) only said comments such as, "DIE, SOURDOUGH, DIE!" or, "ALL I EVER DO IS CUT SOURDOUGH I NEED MORE BREAD!" But today he metioned something about an odd little man named Boq Boulman Riddle.

"I think killing someone would be a nice change from cutting sourdough bread," Trife told Harry earnestly (or as earnestly as an evil talking knife can be). "I was thinking maybe Boq Boulman Riddle...you know, the Munchkin lad. Not only do I think he would be an easy target, but I think the lovely Miss Nessarose Thropp could do just fine without him..."

"I don't know," Harry responded, slowing down the cutting of bread to about half the speed he was previously doing.

"I'm anti-killing people and pro-life."

Trife scowled.

"Just kidding," said Harry. "Let's do it," said Harry.

"WHAT!?" responded Trife, sounding shocked .

"No, no, no, I meant let's go kill Boq. Not let's do it. Well, you know what I mean," said Harry, sounding defendant.

"Alright then..." said Trife with relief, and then they broke into song as they skipped off to murder Boq.

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Boq sat there, in his room with the door locked, bored. Absolutely, positively bored. He forgot to get a book from the library in the mansion, but now he didn't want to go out there because he knew this was the time Nessa usually went to sign off some new laws (usually ridiculous or terrible).

Hopefully she wouldn't spill any ink. He knew he would have to be the one to clean it up. Even though she would try to help...but how much help can a wheelchair-bound person be when cleaning up ink off the floor? He sighed at the thought.

Just then, he heard a scream.

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"What…what the dickens is going on?" Nessa asked, panicked, terrified, and stressed. She nearly screamed again.

"I know you'll never let me get to your Boq," Trife said in a thrillifyingly evil manner, "and that you do have limited magical powers, and so my dear friend Harry and I have decided to dispose of you."

"No!" Nessa began, but she was cut off by Trife slitting her throat. Blood splattered everywhere, and Nessa made an odd noise before falling limp. The red, Trife found, complimented the black and white outfit she was wearing. And that was already a really spiffy outfit she had been wearing, especially the striped tights.

Her scream, however, hurt his ears very much. And of course everyone in the mansion heard it. So there was Harry surronded by a bunch of guards and all he had was a crappy knife called Trife. But then Harry remembered that he was a freaking wizard and killed all the guards with one Avada Kedavra (his magical powers were just that amazing.) So now all that was left was Boq himself, who was keeping himself well hid.

Well, that was what he thought until he saw what looked like a terrible green lizard flying through the sky and heading straight towards him. He screamed, just like a girl. His pitch might have even been higher than the one Nessa had let escape.

Turned out it wasn't a terrible flying green lizard and it was a terrible green witch riding on a crappy broomstick.

"I've never seen you at Hogwarts before," said Harry, confused.

The green witch replied, "I went to Shiz, but enough about stupid wizard schools. Did you see the person who killed my sister? Because when I see them they'll be wishing for death."

"Umm, about that…" said Trife, levitating himself to Elphaba's throat level, and those were the last words she heard, because before you could say Trife had slit her throat. So finally they could go kill Boq. Hopefully...

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Boq stood behind a tree, jaw dropped open wide, more scared and petrified than he had ever been in his life. He could not believe that this knife and this wizard just kept killing, and killing, and killing…

And then he felt a knife to his throat, a quick feeling of pain, saw his own blood, and then…

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"Haha, that was fun!" said Harry as he skipped off along with Trife. "We should do it again sometime!"

Trife laughed wickedly and nodded.