The clown wouldn't stop cavorting among the various wizards and witches. Or bitches, as Harry would often call them. The skin on his arm was being ripped back so that he could see his muscles. He winced in minor discomfort. Ever since Voldemort teamed up with Hitlers ghost his weekends had really gone downhill.
"I remember when I defeated you when I was just a lad Voldemort. You were just a whiny bitch who couldn't take a step without stumbling into failure. But now that you rule the world, I've really begun to doubt your siliness." Voldemort looked over his most recent paperwork. Killing all of the muggles was a real administrative nightmare. Herminee walked into the room, clad only in a smile.
"Honeybunch, when are you coming to bed? I need me some loving from the most evil wizard in the world. " She frowned when he waved her away. "Oh, Hi Harry." she said as she walked out of the room.
"Hi Hermione." Harry said as blades began to slide between his ribs. He knew that he wouldn't live very long. He was 80 years old and being tortured. 80 years old was only 4 in human years. Human years now lasting over several centuries since Voldemort took over. The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon and Harry knew what he must do.
Escape!
With a wink of his dusty eyeball the sun began to shine with unnerving brightness. Voldemort squinted under the newly bright light.
"Hey, Harry. Could you close the blinds for me?"
Harry nodded and pulled himself out of the death contraption and closed the blinds. He mentally cursed. The plan failed. A tear moistened up his dusty eyeball. It was over. He would die. As he sat back down into the death machine, Voldemort turned off his desk lamp and stacked his paperwork into a neat pile. He looked over to Harry and smiled a little.
"You know Harry, we've been through a lot. It's a shame you died so long ago." Harry Potters dusty eyes shot open. How could he be dead? He could feel the blades sink into his lungs. But wait! It was actually just chocolate in his belly. And his dusty eyes were made of ghost! Now truly understanding his untimely death, he felt peace and faded into oblivion.