Once upon a time in a far away realm untouched by time or sanity, there was a castle known as "the crystal palace." It lay in the middle of an ice field and was home to the author. The writer was not fond of reality, but it was the only place to get a good meal. She was bent over a machine.
"Pass the wench." She asked. One of her henchmen penguins obeyed and the miniature woman squeaked and tried to run away but got stuck when the toolbox lid closed down on her. Yes, you heard right, wench as in a woman no one likes as opposed to the tool used to tighten bolts. She seized the tiny woman by the ankles, she whacked her on the table to stop her from squirming and she became stunned in a position so her arms were held out and curved so she looked like a wrench, then the writer used the unfortunate woman as a working tool. When she was done she dropped her back into the box.
"Stu driver." The penguin passed a tiny man, a wack on the table and he was stunned so his arms here twisted together and held over his head. The writer then used him as a screwdriver. She dropped him in the box and he tried to escape but he was so dizzy all he could do was hold onto the wall of the box and hope that he didn't throw up.
"Hammer." The penguin passed another victim, this time it was a hunchback old women. The writer banged her on the machine and it started.
"It's alive! Hahahahah!" She laughed and spun around, still holding the "hammer". The old woman decided she didn't like this treatment and bit the writer making her drop her. The old woman swore in Russian and scuttled out of the room and down the hall.
The penguin closed the toolbox and picked it up, throwing the people inside backwards with tiny screams.
"What happened?' The butler penguin asked in a British accent. The head penguin had a clipboard and a lisp, but he was on holiday so instead the writer was working with the butler penguin, who was second in command next to the penguin with the lisp.
"The censor machine broke." The writer replied. "It blew up my computer and I've just fixed it. Have you tested the cross-dimensional transport yet?"
The penguin looked behind him where he saw three penguins crowded around what looked like a small railway track that ran for a few metres before pointing up at the ceiling. It was really occurring in the next room, but as the walls were made of crystal he could see everything that was going on. One penguin held a clipboard, another held a remote and the third was sitting in the rocket that was on the tracks. The penguin in the rocket put on a helmet and gave a thumbs up to the other two penguins. The penguin with the remote pushed the button. The rocket zoomed down the track and went up through the ceiling. The penguin with the clipboard shook his head and wrote something down.
"Um, it needs a few adjustments." The penguin turned back to the writer.
"I see. I'll do some writing in the time being." She turned to her computer and turned it on.
"Oh, and I need you to do the disclaimer, just look into the webcam."
The penguin waddled in place to look directly into the camera.
"JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. The Crystal Palace isn't real, it's a place that exists within the writer's imagination where she goes when she's writing, and we're warning you now, it might get a bit rude so if you offend easily I suggest you turn back now. It contains drugs, swearing and maybe sexual references. This story is not to be taken seriously, we are aware that it is not particularly well written. It is just a bit of silliness. We are very sorry if anyone gets offended."
The writer nodded and turned to the blank document and started typing.
Hippy Pothead and the Philosopher got stoned
Chapter 1: WTF?
It was midnight at pirouette drive. Not a sole was awake, if they had they might have seen the cat sitting on the brick wall, thought that was nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the man who fell from the sky and landed in the middle of the street. He had long silver hair with tiny round sunglasses and he was wearing baggy jeans, sneakers, a brightly coloured tie-dyed T-shirt and a cap worn backwards. He pulled out a baseball bat and proceeded to smash out all the street lights with glee.
"Hehehehehehehehehe!"
The cat on the brick wall rolled her eyes and mewed in protest.
The old man looked at the cat.
"Hey Professor M, what's up!" He screamed. The cat jumped off the wall and turned into a stiff looking woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore square glasses.
"Keep your voice down Agnes, do you want to be seen?" She asked. "Besides, it's Professor Madonna to you."
"Oh don't be such a square, you're so stiff it's like your brain is full of Viagra. Have you taken Viagra?"
"No I haven't." The woman replied stiffly.
"Well have you got some? I could really use it, Madam Pompous said she liked my earmuffs, I think she was coming onto me."
The woman sighed with exasperation.
"Have you called me here for a reason? Because if you're just going to talk about Viagra, I'm going. I've got better things to do."
The old man lit up a joint and continued talking.
"Calm down stiff bitch, it's about the dark lord."
"So the rumours are true?" She asked concerned. "The good and the bad?"
"Yeah, it's true. The Pottheads were killed but unfortunately the house blew up. A pity really, they had nice curtains."
"And you see it as a good thing?" It seemed the weed was finally taking effect.
"They were the biggest drug smugglers in the country." He reminded her.
"They were still nice people. What about the boy?" She asked.
"Haggar's bringing him." He told her.
"Are you sure it's wise to trust him with something as important as this? If he hasn't eaten his already he'll accidentally sit on him."
"I would trust Haggar with my weed." Agnes replied seriously. A that moment a tricycle fell from the sky and landed in front of them. The large man sitting on it climbed off.
"Hello Professors."
"Hagger, where is the child?" Professor Madonna asked tensely.
"The child?" He asked thickly. "What child?"
"The potthead child!" She hissed.
"Oh him, I think I might've eaten him." Madonna gave Agnes a look that said "I told you so" before turning on the giant man.
"What do you mean you ate him?" She would have screamed but she remembered the muddles.
"I was only joking." He revealed the child hidden in a large pocket of his coat. He did an enormous fart and the baby fell unconscious. He took the baby out of his pocket and handed him to Agnes.
"I'm afraid I might have sat on him at some point. Oh look he's sleeping, isn't he sweet?" Haggar looked at the "sleeping" baby and Madonna decided not to yell at him and instead turned on Agnes.
"Do you think it's safe to leave him with these people? I've watched them all day, when they ate, when slept, when they were on the can, they're the worst sort of muddles imaginable, their son was kicking his mother down the street demanding alcohol. They're…"
"The only family he has left." Agnes interrupted.
"He'll be famous, any wizard family would be honoured to take him in."
"He's better off growing up away from all of that until he is ready to take it." He said wisely, and she had to admit he was right. A child growing up with that sort of fame would have an ego the size of the titanic, but still, as she watched Agnes stuff the baby through the mail slot on the door, she hoped he wouldn't be too emotionally scared the next time they met.
