Four men in scratchy, starched business suits sat uncomfortably in a small, brightly lit room with the label "Casting Office" in gold letters on the door. The walls were covered with black and white Mickey Mouse heads with the number "1928." In fact, it was not just the walls that were covered with Mickey, but the lamp on the secretary's desk had distinct, black round ears coming off the shade, the toaster behind the secretary popped out toast with a mouse on it every nineteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds, and even the secretary himself wore black ears with the title "Official Disney Mouseketeer."

But perhaps the strangest part of the scene was the fact that the four men were all wearing masks that were reminiscent of skulls.

"Are you sure, my lord, that this is the best way of going about the plan?" asked the short, plump man who sat at the end of the row. He was fiddling with his rainbow necktie as if he was not used to wearing such strange attire.

"Are you questioning the Dark Lord?" the greasy-haired man hissed.

"I must agree with Crabbe," said a third man with almost transparent-blonde hair. "I didn't break out of Azkaban to prance around with freakish ears on my head!"

"And that's only if you get lucky!" the short man named Crabbe said. "I hear that's one of the hardest jobs to get!"

"Crabbe! Malfoy! Snape! Do I have to separate you three?" the final man, a tall figure with grey, sickly skin and a non-existent nose.

"No, my lord," the three other men mumbled to their newly shined shoes.

A short man walked into the room a moment later carrying a clipboard and looking very official. His necktie, after all, had Mickey surrounded by paperwork.

"Mr. Crabbe," he read off his clipboard, squinting slightly. "I see here that you have always wanted to work at Disneyland?"

Crabbe nodded and blushed slightly.

The man with a clipboard held out his hand to shake and said jovially, "Well, your dreams are about to come true! You will be out next Movie Barn House Mickey!"

Crabbe practically squeed with excitement and almost as much enthusiasm as Sue, Queen of Hufflepuff.

"Malfoy," he read as soon as Crabbe calmed down. "I see here that you cannot go anywhere without being stalked by crazed fan girls. Is that true?"

"Maybe," the man called Malfoy muttered.

"Well, congratulations to Disneyland's new Prince Phillips!"

"Go Malfoy!" Crabbe said, patting Malfoy on the back but then realized that was obviously wrong and retreated back to his seat.

"Snape? Well, your lack of hygiene might cause a problem…but I think we've found the perfect job for you! Maleficent!"

"Do you not comprehend the amount of masculinity sitting before you?" Snape spat.

"Nope! Okay, now…let's see…Riddle?"

The grey man perked up.

"Well, we were a little worried about how your skin tone might frighten guests a little, so how about something that covers your arms…and your torso…and your face…and every other part of you! You get to be Donald Duck!"

"Aww…but no one likes Donald!" Riddle muttered as he was handed a freakishly large duck head.

"My lord!" Snape said as he threw his horned headdress on the seat behind him. "Do not forget! We are not here to please those…Muggles. We are here for strictly evil purposes."

"Ooh, how I do love to be evil!" Riddle said, his eyes lighting up like a little kid seeing a double-whip, no fat, no sugar, soy-substitute, Grande White Mocha for the first time.

"That's right," the man wearing the Mickey necktie said into his fire. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has just become a Cast Member."

"What!" the head sitting in the fire cried. "What did you tell him?"

"Well, he was kind of qualified for the job," the man muttered.

"This will give us a perfect opportunity to spy on his evil plots!" the head cried.

"Oh, I was just thinking about how much fun it would be to mess with him…" the man said. "But spying works too!"