by Archibald and Taco, the Mexican walking fish
A/N: Hi this is Archibald! This story is for my enjoyment only, but you can read it anyway. I don't mind. I like writing stories. They are fun. Yes, yes Archibald... Good for you... Well, hello there! I am Taco, Archibald's talking Mexican walking fish! This story was first created by Archibald but then I just had to join in, because Archibald's extremely low intellectual capabilities- Pardon me? Don't interrupt Archibald! Anyway, just read the story and you'll see just how strange the human imagination can be... (And the equally strange imagination of the Mexican walking fish) I also stubbornly refuse to believe my own pet helped me write this story... Huh? What did I say? Er... Excuse me, will you review my story? I like reviews. They are funny. Yes, please do review! If we get enough support from readers, we may even start writing about our own adventures!
Disclaimer: We take no responsibilty for any brain damage caused by reading this story.
Hermione eyes glittered excitedly as she stared deeply at the carton in front of her. "Weasley's Dynamite Milk: One drink will make a bang!"
"Yes!" she cried. "They used my idea!"
She paused and thought for a second.
"What! They used my idea without asking for my permission!" she shouted angrily at the carton.
The carton made a sad face at her.
"Oh I'm sorry," she apologised to the carton. "I didn't mean to-"
"No, no, it's okay," the carton interrupted with its eyes downcast. "I'm just a bit worried about my future I guess..."
"Will you be okay?" Hermione asked nervously.
The carton couldn't bring itself to look up at her face, but it mumbled something which sounded a lot like 'mimblewimble' and sighed. Hermione, now convinced that the milk carton was fine, gave it an almighty shake and tossed it into a nearby bin, which immediately chucked the carton back at her. The carton looked up at her accusingly.
"Did you just try to throw me away?" it demanded.
"Um... NO!" Hermione blurted. "I was just... practising..."
"What...basketball?" the carton asked.
"Noooo, Brazilian basket weaving," she said sarcastically.
"Did someone just say 'Brazilian basket weaving'?" a voice suddenly boomed behind Hermione.
"Ron!" Hermione greeted her friend, feeling very relieved to see him.
"Did someone just say 'Ron'?" a voice boomed behind Ron.
"Harry!" Ron replied cheerfully.
"So, you're all weaving Brazilian baskets?" asked the carton cautiously.
Hermione looked desperately at her two best friends, hoping they would get the hint to play along.
"That's right," Harry remarked, catching on quickly.
"That's right," echoed Ron.
"Hmm..." the carton said thoughtfully.
Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, who were nervously poking each other. She then put the carton down, strode up to Harry, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. He staggered back after she released him and stared at her with wide, frightened eyes.
"What was that?" he demanded shrilly.
"That, Harry, my friend, is Brazilian basket weaving," Hermione replied with a sexy wink and grin.
"Wow..." Ron breathed. "Can you teach me Brazilian basket weaving too?"
Hermione whirled around and glared at Ron, who was smiling in embarrassment at her.
"No, I don't THINK so!" she said scornfully. "I only save my kisses for the best."
Harry had a hand up to his lips as he tried to take in what had just happened. At first, he had been astonished, but a blush now slowly crept across his face as the situation sunk in. His emerald eyes stared innocently at his two best friends, as an uncomfortable silence settled in the room.
The milk carton cleared its throat.
"I thought Brazilian basket weaving... involved baskets?" it said weakly.
Harry nervously bit his lip and glanced over at Hermione.
"Um... so did I," he agreed.
Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.
"You guys don't know ANYTHING," she said. "Didn't you know that 'Brazilian basket weaving' is just another name for 'pashing the guy who you've got the hots for'?"
"Oh," said Ron sadly. "Then... I... guess you don't want to weave any Brazilian baskets with me..."
"I'm sorry," the carton said sympathetically. "I know what it feels like."
"What... getting rejected by the girl you've liked for years?" Ron asked in a depressed manner.
"What? No!" said the carton loudly. "I was talking about not knowing anything!"
Ron blinked at the carton.
"What?" he asked.
"Er... Hermione?" Harry inquired nervously.
Hermione smiled at Harry shyly and looked into his sparkling eyes.
"Yes, Harry?" she answered quietly.
Their lips tingled and they stepped closer to each other, as if being magnetically pulled together. Harry moved nearer before gently touching Hermione's waiting lips.
"What lipgloss do you have on?" he whispered. "I like Bonne Belle Strawberry Twist but I'm partial to Red Earth as well."
Hermione suddenly jerked away from him.
"What!" she shrieked. "Didn't you want to weave a Brazilian basket?"
"Er... whatever gave you that idea?" he asked, puzzled.
Hermione frowned angrily at him for a second before her pretty face relaxed into a grin.
"Haha! Nice joke Harry! Very funny!" she giggled.
Harry raised his eyebrows, then leaned towards her. Her soft lips locked onto his for a long, sweet kiss. Ron and the milk carton stared gobsmacked at the pair.
"Mmm..." Harry commented. "You use Lipsmackers Berry Nice, don't you?"
"Yes I do, actually. Want to taste some more?" she replied flirtatiously.
Harry growled and whipped her into his arms before planting fiery kisses all over her face. Ron and the carton sat nearby watching with great interest whilst chewing popcorn.
"B flat please," said Harry as he came up for breath.
Ron immediately stepped on the carton.
"He was talking about the music!" came the muffled voice from under Ron's foot.
"Oh... sorry," said a sheepish Ron.
He turned around and looked in puzzlement at the orchestra who had been waiting there patiently the whole time. He took a step forward, his wand in his hand.
"Owwwwwwiiiiieee!" Ron screamed as he tripped.
A jet of light shot out backwards from his sticky-taped wand and hit him in the stomach. He immediately started shaking like crazy, still clutching his wand. The orchestra, taking him to be ther conductor, dutifully followed his hand movements. Surprisingly, they seemed to be playing Chopin's 'Fantasie Impromptu'.
Even more surprisingly, Harry leapt away from Hermione and started dancing dramatically. Everybody stared at the Boy Who Lived as he executed several difficult ballet moves. Hermione gasped and watched with adoring eyes as the love of her life spun, twirled and jumped. He began moving faster and faster as the pace of the music increased. Coincidentally, Ron started to twitch with even more ferocity, somehow managing to hold onto his wand. The bewildered orchestra hurriedly followed his lead the best they could, their fingers, mouths and various other body parts struggling to keep up. Suddenly, the music came to a stop. Harry, who had been attempting a triple-toe pirouette, froze in mid-twirl. Hermione held her breath in anticipation.
"That's better!" sighed Ron, collapsing onto the floor as the seizure in his body stopped.
The musicians stared at him expectantly. Harry glared, with great difficulty, at his best friend and waited for him to continue. Hermione began turning red from the lack of oxygen.
"Oh!" Ron exclaimed, finally realising everyone was waiting for him.
He waved his hands in a few lazy movements, before the orchestra got sick of him and began improvising. Each person played their instrument as loudly and as randomly as possible. Separately, they each sounded horrible. Together, they played the most terrible, most out of tune, most ear piercing song ever. In other words, it was the best piece that Harry had ever heard.
Without even realising it, his feet started moving of their own accord. His back arched and his hands flew out to the sides as he performed complicated moves he had never tried before. Soon, he was flying across the ground, a blurred figure dancing like he was on drugs.
Hermione gazed at him with a lovesick smile on her face, before she also felt her own body start to jig. She waltzed up to Harry and they began to jitterbug ferociously. Hermione glanced up and saw Ron twirling slowly on the squashed carton with an intense look of concentration on his face. The carton was squealing in protest and cursing that it was once again under Ron's smelly foot. Ron smiled down at the carton and began soothing it in a gentle voice.
"There, there," he cooed.
The carton purred. Harry leapt. Hermione swayed. Ron twirled. The orchestra played on.
And so, this fantastic performance continued, long into the night...
THE END
A/N: Did you enjoy the story? Please tell us in a review if you want us to write more! And as I always say, "No flame! No fun!"