Harry took a large whiff of seemingly delicious air into his nostrils, running into the kitchen as the oven timer rang.

"MMMMMMM! Boy, am I a good cook. Maybe I should just abandon magic and become a baker in the simple muggle world!" He exclaimed as he opened the oven to reveal a black, burnt pie that actually smelled like Nagini's detached head and rotting body. Frankly, it kind of looked like it too.

Harry set the "pie" on the kitchen counter, black puffs of smoke steaming groggily from it. Harry smiled, thinking it was the best thing to happen since sliced bread. His glasses were fogged up, so he took them off and started to wipe them on his cashmere sweater he got at an 80% off sale at Acciocrombie and Snitch.

He started walking, still focused on his glasses, wiping them aggressively. Pausing for a moment, Harry put them on and when he looked up, Voldemort was sitting cross-legged at his dinner table, feet up, picking his grimy toenails.

Startled, Harry stepped back and jabbed himself on the edge of the counter. Wincing at the pain, he instinctively started rubbing his hand on his lower back, still glaring at Voldemort. Embarrassed, Voldemort struggled to kick his feet back down and his usual sickly white face turned into a solid gray.

"Ahem.. AHEM.. RRNN RNNNNfewiogni!" He coughed as his veins started to pop out of his pale neck. "Oh, hello Harry. I thought I'd just.. uh.. show how dangerous I am by cleaning my toes on your table. Now your table is purified by the disgustingness of my toes; you're welcome." Voldemort said calmly in his usual soft voice, wand slowly twirling in his mangled hands.

"WADYA WANT, HUH?! I just like, literally, like just finished making a frickin—UGHHH!" Harry yelled, tensing and pulling out his wand from nowhere.

"Careful… Harry… There is no need for—" Voldemort started.

"VIOLENCE, RIGHT OLD MAN? WELL THERE IS SOME NEED FOR VIOLENCE BECAUSE I FINISHED SOMETHIN I WAS PROUD OF AND YOU GOTTA COME AND RUIN IT LIKE ALWAYS! LIKE, JUST—"

"How dare you interrupt me?! Harry, you realize I could kill you right now, do you? I am LORD VOLDEMORT!" Voldemort shouted, gripping his wand so tight his nails nearly cut his skin.

"You wanna go? Don't go cause, uh, obviously bro," Harry said, leaning on one foot, hand on hip, gesturing toward Voldie, "You don't even lift. Plus, you like, can never kill me. Tried-five-years-and-still-can't-touch-this! MMMM can't touch dis yeahhhhh can't touch this!"

With the scream of a dying hyena, Voldemort stood abruptly, his chair toppling over. He looked up and blasted a hole in Harry's roof with his black, unwashed-for-years robe blowing in the wind. Harry was crouching in the corner, squinting and all.

"HAAAAARRY POTTER! IT IS TIME FOR ME TO KILL YOU! COME.. TO DIE!" Voldemort said, even more calmly than before. Now, the commotion and roof-blowing had subsided and all was normal again (except Voldemort's bloodlust, am I right?).

"NOOOOO! NEVER! YOU'LL NEVER KILL ME!" Harry shrieked, collecting himself and sending a few random blasts of magic from his wand before walking backwards, away from Voldemort.

They both continued to blast at eachother like chickens with their heads cut off, and finally Voldemort hit Harry in the legs, making him trip.

"Face it, Harry.. THIS! Is the end…."

"NOOOOOO! NEVERRRR!"

Harry looked around for a solution, like a bat or gun or something. He found nothing. But there, behind him, laid the disastrous pie, perfectly untouched. Trying to buy himself some time, he started crawling backwards towards the pie, very subtly.

"Hey Voldemort! Your hair is growing back!" Harry yelled.

Right when Voldemort brought his hands up and looked up to check, Harry sprinted towards the pie. He grabbed it, and hurled it in Voldemort's direction.

"AAAAARUUUGHHHHHHHHH!" Voldemort gurgled like a rabies-infected goat, and fell to his knees.

Success! Harry thought. Time to finish it hahahahhahaa! Harry pulled out his glowing, blue lightsaber from his back pocket. He then went over to slice the unaware Voldemort in half. SHING!

"Sewbushi Mubushi!" Harry hollered in his barbaric war-cry. All the flying monkeys crashed through the wall and circled around Voldemort.

"No Harry! Please, have—"

Harry snapped his fingers with unimaginable sass and the flying monkeys disintegrated both halves of Voldemort with their demonic hot sauce fire-breath.

"What a waste of pie."