Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and let's face it- that's a thank GOD! It would be a horrible crack fic. Anyways!
Summary: A treadmill- who needs them? Elliptical- bleh, useless… all Voldemort needs is one little game. DDR!
Warning: Don't drink any liquid, don't be near liquid and please relieve your bladder. Oh and don't read this crack fic while on crack… or if it's 3am and you haven't slept in a couple days. You can go ahead and read it, but you may end up hurting yourself…laughing!
STORY TIME!
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Once upon a time not that long ago, in a far off place - I mean I am in Canada and they are in England - there lived a cow. Your average black and white spotted cow.
There was just one difference between this cow and the other cows: he lived inside, in the dungeons - which surprisingly was not in the basement but in a glass house where the cow, Frank, was able to roam freely among the heads sticking out of the magicked ground.
And upstairs in the glass house stood his master.
Voldemort stood in the middle of the room with his magically conjured extra legs. Yes, the Great Lord Voldemort needed more legs because of one simple thing. Southern Cross. That's right, a DDR song that had baffled all the other greats in the world!
"MUUUU."
"Wormtail, what have I told you about keeping my pet fed? Frank must have at least 12 heads of hair every day!" Wormtail quickly scattered down the stairs, wondering where he was going to get 12 new heads to feed to the crazy cow that only ate hair!
"Now for Southern Cross." Voldemort stated pressing the Start button with his right big toe. The music started and the six extra legs started to slowly move, each taping one of the eight squares (yes Voldemort was epic enough to play with two mats at once). In the next ten seconds, the music picked up and all eight of Voldemort's legs sped forward, slapping the arrows.
"If anything is more evil than me then it would be this stupid song," Voldemort grunted (He WAS NOT out of breath!)
Finally the song ended. Voldemort grabbed the apple juice box Wormtail held out to him.
"Now who thinks they can beat me?" Of course Voldemort magicked his extra legs away as he asked and as his minions came in.
"We can, My Lord." Four teens of no significance as of yet stepped forward. Each sat on the ground around one mat with a hand hovering over each arrow. Again the evil song started up, and like an avalanche of horses the four teens started smacking their hands down on the arrows.
"My arms are starting to hurt," one whispered.
"Suck it up we are almost done," the other whispered back, as the arrows stopped coming.
"See. Now we're done!" the third whispered.
"NO WE AREN'T!" the forth said. A collective AH went through the group as the sound of the horse avalanche came again. Laughter bubbled up in the room around the four. Voldemort simply watched his minions smack the single mat.
Again the song seemed to stop only to start up again, damn this evil song. Finally a last note was pressed and the song ended. The four stood up only to have Voldemort turn them all into plushies.
"See, no one can beat me at Southern Cross." Voldemort scooped the others up and walked out of the room, still walking a little like Pleakley (you know, the guy from Lilo and Stitch).
"Now, now, no wiggling my duckies. You'll fall to the ground. " With that Voldemort walked to his room. When he swung the door open the plushies would have gasped had they had mouths that moved. Inside the room was full of plushies.
Voldemort Plushies.
Snape Plushies.
Harry Potter Plushies.
Minion Plushies.
Anime Plushies.
And now 4 more plushies fell to the ground among the others.
"HAHA DDR will forever be mine to play and win!"
And this is what Voldemort does in his free time.