OK, keep in mind that this is HARRY AND DRACO arguing, not DANIEL AND TOM. There is a difference! If you've read any of my bloopers, you'll know how I don't like the movie and stuff. Because like when the director guy says "cut", it's not for the moive somehow, it's for the book. OK? OK.
Disclaimer: I don't own stuff. Like characters.
Claimer: I do own stuff. Like those folding chairs.
*****
"CUT!" says the Director guy. "We can't continue, that Hermione girl isn't here yet. Where is she?" He walks off rubbing the sides of head and muttering various four-letter words.
Harry and Malfoy are sitting in Director-ish folding chairs facing eachother. Makeup people come to do stuff.
"See, I get better makeup people because I am the star of the books," Harry says as the makeup person takes off his glasses to polish them.
"You are simply one of the main characters," Malfoy argued. "With me and other people," he said, waving his hand as his makeup artist files the nails on his other one.
"People who read the books like me better, of course," Harry said with a laugh as his glasses were put back on his face. "You know, confronting evil, and winning, if I might add, time and time again."
"Oh, come on," Malfoy said as the makeup artist began filing the nails on his other hand. "I was put in the story for a reason."
"Yeah," said Harry, "to give me an enemy."
"Besides that," Malfoy said. "I was put in there because the book needed someone with additude," he explained. "I mean, you and your clueless little friends aren't going to help in that area."
"My friends are smarter than your cronies," Harry said.
Right on cue, Hermione ran in wearing a nightgown, apparently have just woken up, and went running through the door. "Did we start? Oh dear! I'm late!"
"See?" Malfoy said, smirking. "Your friends are there for comic relief. I mean, please."
"They aren't there for comic relief," Harry said, allowing the makeup artist to shine his shoes. Malfoy's makeup artist came carrying a huge tub of hair gel and began applying it on Malfoy's hair. "Now that is comic relief," Harry said. "And readers still like me better."
"Do not."
"Do too!"
"Do you every hear about those fanfiction writers?" Harry asked. "I mean, they write about ME! Humor fics about me, Adventures, even Romances!"
"So?" Malfoy said. "Which fic by a female writer have you read that I was in and I was not wearing some sort of leather pants? Hm? I always am! Every single one!"
"No you're not."
"Well, fine." The makeup artist then lifted the tub of hair gel and walked away.
Harry's makeup artist began combing his hair so it stuck up in the back more.
Malfoy continued. "But if you're so great, how come you're so snotty to me? Hm? The popular Harry Potter, being snotty." He tutted. "It gives you the image of a playground bully.
"Do I LOOK like a playground bully?" Harry said, outraged.
"Even so," Malfoy said.
"See, you're there for the comic relief. In Book Three, Hermione gets to slap you across the face, heh, and at the end of Book Four, we all hex you," Harry says knowingly.
A makeup artist comes and begins combing Malfoy's hair. "Uh.." Malfoy says, searching for a comeback, and then found one so obvious it hurt his brain to try to figure out why he didn't mention it before. "But I'm much cuter." He takes in a breath and looked at his nails in that braggy way. "All the female fanfic writers fall for me." He then let out the breath casually through his nose.
That's not true! PLENTY OF FANFIC WRITERS FALL FOR ME!!" Harry stands up and stamps his foot as he says this. Everyone stares. Malfoy smirks. After a few awkward seconds, things get back to normal.
"But, I mean, your friends are so.. weird," Malfoy said.
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Are not!"
"Watch this." Malfoy looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Weasley, watch out for that spider!"
There was no doubt in the fact that Malfoy had great pleasure watching Ron stumble across the room to avoid an imaginary spider.
"See, now that's comic relief, as I said before," Malfoy said.
"No it's not, you know he doesn't like spiders!" Harry argued as the makeup artist filed his nails. "And people still like me much better."
"Why should they?" demanded Malfoy as his makeup artist powdered his nose.
"I'm the hero."
"You're one of the main characters!"
"People like me better."
"So?" Malfoy said. "At least I have an additude."
"So?" Harry said.
"And I've got every eleven to fourteen year old girl who reads the books charmed!" Malfoy said.
"No you don't." Harry said.
And so we leave our heros arguing stupidly. I don't own them. I own the makeup artists and chairs. La!
Disclaimer: I don't own stuff. Like characters.
Claimer: I do own stuff. Like those folding chairs.
*****
"CUT!" says the Director guy. "We can't continue, that Hermione girl isn't here yet. Where is she?" He walks off rubbing the sides of head and muttering various four-letter words.
Harry and Malfoy are sitting in Director-ish folding chairs facing eachother. Makeup people come to do stuff.
"See, I get better makeup people because I am the star of the books," Harry says as the makeup person takes off his glasses to polish them.
"You are simply one of the main characters," Malfoy argued. "With me and other people," he said, waving his hand as his makeup artist files the nails on his other one.
"People who read the books like me better, of course," Harry said with a laugh as his glasses were put back on his face. "You know, confronting evil, and winning, if I might add, time and time again."
"Oh, come on," Malfoy said as the makeup artist began filing the nails on his other hand. "I was put in the story for a reason."
"Yeah," said Harry, "to give me an enemy."
"Besides that," Malfoy said. "I was put in there because the book needed someone with additude," he explained. "I mean, you and your clueless little friends aren't going to help in that area."
"My friends are smarter than your cronies," Harry said.
Right on cue, Hermione ran in wearing a nightgown, apparently have just woken up, and went running through the door. "Did we start? Oh dear! I'm late!"
"See?" Malfoy said, smirking. "Your friends are there for comic relief. I mean, please."
"They aren't there for comic relief," Harry said, allowing the makeup artist to shine his shoes. Malfoy's makeup artist came carrying a huge tub of hair gel and began applying it on Malfoy's hair. "Now that is comic relief," Harry said. "And readers still like me better."
"Do not."
"Do too!"
"Do you every hear about those fanfiction writers?" Harry asked. "I mean, they write about ME! Humor fics about me, Adventures, even Romances!"
"So?" Malfoy said. "Which fic by a female writer have you read that I was in and I was not wearing some sort of leather pants? Hm? I always am! Every single one!"
"No you're not."
"Well, fine." The makeup artist then lifted the tub of hair gel and walked away.
Harry's makeup artist began combing his hair so it stuck up in the back more.
Malfoy continued. "But if you're so great, how come you're so snotty to me? Hm? The popular Harry Potter, being snotty." He tutted. "It gives you the image of a playground bully.
"Do I LOOK like a playground bully?" Harry said, outraged.
"Even so," Malfoy said.
"See, you're there for the comic relief. In Book Three, Hermione gets to slap you across the face, heh, and at the end of Book Four, we all hex you," Harry says knowingly.
A makeup artist comes and begins combing Malfoy's hair. "Uh.." Malfoy says, searching for a comeback, and then found one so obvious it hurt his brain to try to figure out why he didn't mention it before. "But I'm much cuter." He takes in a breath and looked at his nails in that braggy way. "All the female fanfic writers fall for me." He then let out the breath casually through his nose.
That's not true! PLENTY OF FANFIC WRITERS FALL FOR ME!!" Harry stands up and stamps his foot as he says this. Everyone stares. Malfoy smirks. After a few awkward seconds, things get back to normal.
"But, I mean, your friends are so.. weird," Malfoy said.
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Are not!"
"Watch this." Malfoy looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Weasley, watch out for that spider!"
There was no doubt in the fact that Malfoy had great pleasure watching Ron stumble across the room to avoid an imaginary spider.
"See, now that's comic relief, as I said before," Malfoy said.
"No it's not, you know he doesn't like spiders!" Harry argued as the makeup artist filed his nails. "And people still like me much better."
"Why should they?" demanded Malfoy as his makeup artist powdered his nose.
"I'm the hero."
"You're one of the main characters!"
"People like me better."
"So?" Malfoy said. "At least I have an additude."
"So?" Harry said.
"And I've got every eleven to fourteen year old girl who reads the books charmed!" Malfoy said.
"No you don't." Harry said.
And so we leave our heros arguing stupidly. I don't own them. I own the makeup artists and chairs. La!