He's All Thon
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor She's All That nor Romeo and Juliet and whatever else may be intertwined in this Fic belongs to me! No money made out of this - so kindly don't sue, thanking you. (That rhymes, boom boom!)
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There never was a story of such woe, As this of Harry and his fair Draco. The plot is non-existent, the tale just barm, In fair Hogwarts, where we lay our yarn.
Scene opens to the bee-yoo-ti-ful summer's day by the lake at dear old Hogwarts.
Camera scopes the grounds from a high angle alongside some funky/cheesy song, as we pan to the Slytherin trio, who sit polishing their like, totally expensive brooms. Camera zooms into the Leader of The Pack (vroom, vroom), Draco Malfoy, who is lovingly dusting his "Merc 2000" a big shiny golden plate on it reading "Mr Pres". Beside him are his chummies, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Greg is the first to speak as the camera zooms to his chubby wee face.
GREG: So Draco. You've got it all, ain't ya? You're, like, so gorgeous and rich and you can get anyone in the whole damn school. How about we just make this teenage Fanfic THE most stereotypical teenage Fanfic ever and see if we can make a little bet that you can't pull the most scruffiest loser in the school? Who, given a little time and help, they will no doubt turn out to be a total babe and you will both fall hopelessly in love and trot off into the sunset together.
DRACO: (Smiles his Lazy Smile, leans back and stretches, regarding Greg levelly.) This sounds like a nice little original challenge. Bit early on in the story if you ask me, but fair enough, if we can't be bothered to give a little background info, we'll just get right on to it. I hear what you say, I mean, I've got everything any stereotypical teenage boy in any stereotypical teenage Fanfic needs - the looks, the money, the two dopey mates - all I need now is a little challenge to just stretch my limit. And whom do you have in mind? This being something that I apparently so need to ask, even though to any reader it'll be pretty obvious, but will still come as a bit of a shock to me.
GREG: Only the one we are FOREVER told by the narrative who has the scruffy hair, the woeful clothes and yet everything going for him to be Prom Queen except the style and charisma that he could only learn for the stereotypical leading star in this oh-so stereotypical Fanfic, plus have been following him since the strat. I'm talking about (Cue dramatic music) Mr. Golden-drawers himself, Harry Potter.
DRACO: (Shocked) No way, man, wait a minute not Harry Potter, man! I'll take anyone, even Ginger-Pubes Weasel or Frizz Granger, not Harry POTTER! Anyway, it's nearly the end of June here! Everyone but his daft mates know not to go near Harry Potter near the end of June! I mean, he remains perfectly safe the whole year, only to be attacked by Voldie in June! But, aside from all that - look at him! No taste, he's, like, totally Clueless (But that's a different Fic).
The trio look round as the camera pans to a handy nearby slippery slope that Harry Potter himself has been attempting to climb in the background for the last wee while, only to be seen slipping and rolling all the way to the bottom again.
DRACO: And he's MEAN too, man!
HARRY: (To Colin Creevy, a dear little budding photographer just trying to get a few snaps) Just PISS OFF!
VINCENT: If anyone can do it, you can, Draco. And while you're at it, give him a shag - never seen someone so sexually frustrated. Although, wait, this Fanfic may be rated very low, so p'haps no shagging, sorry.
Camera zooms in to Draco, who looks all determined, and heads purposefully towards Harry to start his mission.
GREG: Di-amn!
R&R please! Don't know if I'll continue with this - is really the biggest load of shite I've ever written!
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor She's All That nor Romeo and Juliet and whatever else may be intertwined in this Fic belongs to me! No money made out of this - so kindly don't sue, thanking you. (That rhymes, boom boom!)
************************************************************************
There never was a story of such woe, As this of Harry and his fair Draco. The plot is non-existent, the tale just barm, In fair Hogwarts, where we lay our yarn.
Scene opens to the bee-yoo-ti-ful summer's day by the lake at dear old Hogwarts.
Camera scopes the grounds from a high angle alongside some funky/cheesy song, as we pan to the Slytherin trio, who sit polishing their like, totally expensive brooms. Camera zooms into the Leader of The Pack (vroom, vroom), Draco Malfoy, who is lovingly dusting his "Merc 2000" a big shiny golden plate on it reading "Mr Pres". Beside him are his chummies, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Greg is the first to speak as the camera zooms to his chubby wee face.
GREG: So Draco. You've got it all, ain't ya? You're, like, so gorgeous and rich and you can get anyone in the whole damn school. How about we just make this teenage Fanfic THE most stereotypical teenage Fanfic ever and see if we can make a little bet that you can't pull the most scruffiest loser in the school? Who, given a little time and help, they will no doubt turn out to be a total babe and you will both fall hopelessly in love and trot off into the sunset together.
DRACO: (Smiles his Lazy Smile, leans back and stretches, regarding Greg levelly.) This sounds like a nice little original challenge. Bit early on in the story if you ask me, but fair enough, if we can't be bothered to give a little background info, we'll just get right on to it. I hear what you say, I mean, I've got everything any stereotypical teenage boy in any stereotypical teenage Fanfic needs - the looks, the money, the two dopey mates - all I need now is a little challenge to just stretch my limit. And whom do you have in mind? This being something that I apparently so need to ask, even though to any reader it'll be pretty obvious, but will still come as a bit of a shock to me.
GREG: Only the one we are FOREVER told by the narrative who has the scruffy hair, the woeful clothes and yet everything going for him to be Prom Queen except the style and charisma that he could only learn for the stereotypical leading star in this oh-so stereotypical Fanfic, plus have been following him since the strat. I'm talking about (Cue dramatic music) Mr. Golden-drawers himself, Harry Potter.
DRACO: (Shocked) No way, man, wait a minute not Harry Potter, man! I'll take anyone, even Ginger-Pubes Weasel or Frizz Granger, not Harry POTTER! Anyway, it's nearly the end of June here! Everyone but his daft mates know not to go near Harry Potter near the end of June! I mean, he remains perfectly safe the whole year, only to be attacked by Voldie in June! But, aside from all that - look at him! No taste, he's, like, totally Clueless (But that's a different Fic).
The trio look round as the camera pans to a handy nearby slippery slope that Harry Potter himself has been attempting to climb in the background for the last wee while, only to be seen slipping and rolling all the way to the bottom again.
DRACO: And he's MEAN too, man!
HARRY: (To Colin Creevy, a dear little budding photographer just trying to get a few snaps) Just PISS OFF!
VINCENT: If anyone can do it, you can, Draco. And while you're at it, give him a shag - never seen someone so sexually frustrated. Although, wait, this Fanfic may be rated very low, so p'haps no shagging, sorry.
Camera zooms in to Draco, who looks all determined, and heads purposefully towards Harry to start his mission.
GREG: Di-amn!
R&R please! Don't know if I'll continue with this - is really the biggest load of shite I've ever written!