Dude, Where's the Title?
A note from the Spork: 'Tis a ficcy for Winter Queen's challenge! The requirements that all must follow:
~It must be funny
~Someone must say "Dude! Where's my broom?"
~Voldemort must wear fluffy pink pajamas
~Britney Spears has to get locked in a boiler room
~No one can say Harry except Harry
~Someone must say "The End!"
So-ooo, now that you all know this important stuffness, on with the ficcy!
The Death Eaters assembled in Voldemort's top-secret-underground-high-tech-futuristic-lair-hideout-thingy were in a state of confusion. "Hold on," one of them interrupted the author, "I thought this was the state of New Jersey." "It's a state of mind," another said. "You're all in a state of denial," a third butted in. "Isn't that a river in Egypt?" Interrupting them all with a command to "shut up or else!" the author continued the story.
Anyway. The reason everyone, including the author, was confused was that Voldemort was a late sleeper and some unknown person *coughwormtailcough* had scheduled the meeting early in the morning (like 5 in the morning) causing the Death Eaters to have to wait for about 5 hours until Voldemort woke up. Which is now.
All heads turned towards the door, from which the Dark Lord had emerged wearing his usual- fluffy pink pajamas? Oh, well. Evil dark wizards bent on conquering the planet are strange sometimes.
ANYway. Voldemort blinked, seeing his living room filled with people, some of who were rolling around on the floor laughing. He hit them with a few curses. Now they were rolling around on the floor screaming in pain. Much better, Voldemort thought. Then he saw Wormtail. "You dolt! You bungling blockhead! I said 5 PM, not 5 AM, you worthless, good-for-nothing, pathetic excuse for a servant!" Wormtail fled to the back of the room as Voldemort threw things at him, including, for some odd reason, a load of foam. (The author is currently whistling and looking innocent. No way did she put that foam in there. Why would she do that? I mean, come on now, people…)
Suddenly, a boy with black hair, green eyes, and a scar all over his forehead burst into the room on a broomstick. "AHA!" he shouted, waving a wand about frantically. "I've got you now, you evil scum!" Voldemort stared at him. "Who in the Billy Shears are you?" "Who indeed am I?" answered the boy. He hopped off his broomstick and handed little cards to four random Death Eaters, at which point everyone yelled at the author for her shameless Yellow Submarine insertion.
"Don't you remember me?" the boy asked. The Dark Lord shook his head, wondering where the author found these weird people. "Harry Potter, remember? You killed my parents! And you tried to kill me, except for it didn't work, so you got mad at me, and you keep making up all these strange plots to get me?" Voldemort looked at the boy in a state of bewilderment. "Gah, not this again," someone groaned. "I have no clue who you are," Voldemort told what's-his-name. "And by the way, you might want to comb your hair. Everybody has bad hair days, but that's just ridiculous!"
"So you're not going to try and kill me?"
"Why- apart from the fact that I'm pure evil- would I do a thing like that?"
"Ah, I dunno, maybe cause you're pure evil. Anyhow, this is kinda boring, so if you don't mind I'll leave now." The strange boy got back on his broom and started to fly off. "Bye, whatever-your-name-is!" Voldemort yelled.
"MY NAME IS HARRY!!!" Voldemort shrugged as whatever-his-name-was disappeared from sight. "Well, he's gone. What next?" Just then (will the surprises never end!) a person burst in the door. Which was surprising in itself, because the door happened to already be open. But people have to burst through doors, so this particular person did.
Even the Death Eaters cowered when she appeared. Wormtail in particular was ghostly white and on the verge of collapse. It was… (cue dramatic music) BRITNEY SPEARS! Everyone rested for a bit while they waited for the author to calm down and stop screaming. "Wait, I don't like you," the author said. "I definitely did NOT summon you. So, out you go!" She locked Britney Spears in the boiler room. "I didn't know I had a boiler room," Voldemort commented. Right on cue, a herd of stampeding purple ducks charged through the scene, causing Wormtail to faint. "Alright, now this fic is just getting silly. I'm leaving," Voldemort declared, and went to get his broom.
"Dude! Where's my broom?" A shout rang from the door, and was followed by another as the remaining characters attacked the author for making a British character say the blatantly American word "Dude," despite the fact that it was a challenge requirement and had to be done. She was able to make two words heard over the tremendous noise-
"The End!"
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. All things HP belong to JKR. Yellow Submarine belongs to the Beatles. "Dude, Where's My Car" (which by the way is a cool movie) belongs to whoever came up with it. Which definitely is not me. Britney Spears belongs to the devil.
Another note from the Spork: I don't need to tell you to review, do I? Because I know you're going to anyway. *wink* Right?