Yeah… I wrote this one on a three hour place ride, so you can sort of see where it came from.
DC: I DO own the Lair O' Doom. That's why it's trademarked. But everything else is up for grabs.
Enjoy!
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As if anyone really cared, Voldemort decided to take a vacation.
"Minion!" he called from his Lair O' Doom™. "Pack all my summer clothes. I believe I shall be visiting a warm place for my holiday."
Snape, in the kitchen, attempted to keep his face from becoming overly distorted at the sound of his master's ear-rupturing voice.
"Yes, my lord." He croaked. He remembered the last time Voldemort had tried to relax…
"Sir! Get the fire extinguisher!"
"What, this large tank labeled 'gasoline'?"
"No, no! The one next to – Ahhh! Put it out, put it out!-"
Snape took a moment to involuntarily convulse before he answered to his master's shrieking demands.
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The Dark Lord entered the TV lounge. It was where all the "hip" Death Eaters hung out, since they'd gotten that new plasma screen.
"Lucius!" he sang, forcing Snape, who was three rooms away, to cringe.
The blond Death Eater, plopped on the couch, ignored him.
"Lucius!" Voldemort repeated. Snape went into an epidemic seizure.
Still, the sit-com junkie paid no attention.
"Lucius!" The Dark Lord belted, causing the death of several small birds and some of Snape's brain cells.
"Will you shut up?" Lucius whipped around, eyes bulging. "It is Will, and Grace, and Leo, at a wedding! This is need-to-know information!!"
Voldemort could only stand, shocked. He had no idea Will and Leo were married.
Lucius turned back around, muttering something about getting a Tivo.
The Dark Lord waited patiently behind the sofa until a commercial break.
"Now, what d'you want?" Lucius demanded, while jabbing the button to summon Snape with more chips.
"Well, Lucius," Voldemort began loftily, as he was once again (for two minutes and 35 seconds) the center of attention. "As you must know, I'm taking a little holiday."
All the Death Eaters in the room frowned.
"You are?" Lucius asked, surprised.
A little taken aback, Voldemort said, "Well of course I am. Haven't you heard?"
"Ah, nooooooo..."
Snape entered holding in a French maid uniform, holding a bag of Crisp Potato-Flavored Lard.
"Ah-ha! Minion!" the Dark Lord said brightly. "Tell them: I'm taking a trip, aren't I?"
Snape's brow creased. "Trip, sir?"
"You've got to be kidding!" Voldemort exclaimed loudly. "You were supposed to be packing for me, Minion!"
The gears clicked.
"Ohhhhhh… Thattrip."
"How could you forget?"
"Well, sir, you only came up with the idea a few paragraphs ago."
"Erm… paragrpahs, Minion?"
Snape looked directly into the Dark Lord's eyes. The lights dimmed, and Twilight music began playing in the background.
"Yes sir," he whispered. "Paragraphs."
Voldemort glanced around worriedly, backing slowly out. Perhaps it was something in the water. Luckily, he'd stopped drinking water ever since the tap had been plugged up with a prescription bottle.
In the corridor, Voldemort pulled out his nifty new Blackberry (those iPhones could eat his Vista packages,) and looked up "insane".
"The attempt of one action over and over again, without change or achievement."
Voldemort sighed. Thank Satan. He'd never tried anything a multitude of time and failed miserably.
He thought this as he dumped a large pile of rocks onto his conscience, who attempted to squeak "Harry – mmph!"
Content, despite his crazy followers, he went upstairs to plot world domination, holiday completely forgotten.
Downstairs, in the TV room, every Death Eater breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Crisis averted." Lucius said, reaching for the Crispy Potato-Flavored Lard bag.
Snape nodded. "We learned our lesson with the last holiday…"
"Sir, you need to let the nice man check your bag, so we can get on the plane."
"But they'll take away all my hunting knives, fire crackers, and ammunition!"
"Shush!"
"And my new Arabic to English translation guide…"
"Quiet sir!"
"And this cool box thing the nice terrorist man gave me-"
"No! No! Officer, he didn't mean it! Ack! Not the pepper spray-!"
The room took a moment to remember that trip through airport security and, incidentally, airport custody.
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AN: He he… Like it? It's a oneshot right now, but it could go on…