A/N: If there are any hillbillies reading this...um...please forgive me. XD

"Why are we on this blasted dirt road?" demanded Voldemort as the hillbilly, who had introduced himself as "Earl" drove on.

"Well, lucky fer you, my brother/uncle/second cousin owns a tow truck business right by my house, and ya have ta take this here road ta get thur!"

"Oh. All right...Wait a minute, how is he your brother, uncle, AND second cousin?"

"Don't ask questions, No Nose. Even I can't figger it out no how."

A few minutes later they pulled up next to a small wooden farm house. It was surrounded by empty plains, except for a barn and a chicken coop in the back.

"My," said Voldemort, "It certainly is...quaint."

"Wha?"

Voldemort sighed. "It's right purdy."

"Oh. Thank ya kindly."

"All right, Death Eaters," said Voldemort, approaching the back of the truck, "Everyone out."

"Can I take Spider Pig with me?" asked Crabbe.

"No!"

"Awwwwww!"

"Just let 'im bring the durn pig," said Earl.

"Fine," said Voldemort, "Crabbe, you can bring Spider Pig."

"He's not Spider Pig anymore," said Crabbe, "He's Harry Plopper."

"That is NOT funny, Crabbe! Now I just want to kill the pig!"

"Don't worry, Plopper. He can't kill the real Harry, so chances are he can't kill you either."

"CRABBE!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming..."

The Death Eaters all got out of the truck, Crabbe carrying Spider...Um, I mean, Harry Plopper.

"Y'all can come on inside while I call my brother/uncle/second cousin," said the hillbilly. Voldemort and the Death Eaters followed him inside.

"This here's my wife Luann."

"Howdy," said Luann, a large woman with tacky makeup, a blond beehive hairdo, and baggy clothes.

"And these here are my kids. Meet Bessie, Elsie, Billy Bob, Bob Billy, Jethro, Ellie Mae, Cletus, Brandine, Bucky, Sue, Clarence, Mariann, Bubba, Rufus, Walker, Texas Ranger, Bobby Joe, Joe Bobby, Gerald, Moe, and Gerald Moe."

"Greetings...," said Voldemort uncomfortably.

"Y'all want some lemonade?" asked Luann.

Voldemort glanced at the kitchen table. "There's a cigarette in the pitcher."

"What's yer point?"

"I believe I'll pass..."

"Well, what're ya waitin' fer?" said Earl, "Set a spell. I'm gonna go help my brother/uncle/second cousin with yer van!"

The Death Eaters obeyed. There were enough seats for everyone, although some consisted of beat-up lawn chairs and giant bean bags.

"Spell?" whispered Voldemort frantically as he occupied a seat next to Wormtail. "How does he know we're wizards?"

"It's all right, Master," replied Wormtail, "It's a Muggle expression."

"Ah."

"Hey, kids!" called Earl, "Y'all wanna see yer pa work?"

"Yeah!" screamed the twenty-one kids, following their father out the door.

"Well, y'all can just make yerselves at home, and I'll cook ya up some tender vittles!" suggested the hospitable Luann.

Voldemort looked at Wormtail with an expression that clearly said, "What the crap?"

"That means food," whispered Wormtail.

"Ah."

The Death Eaters all looked around with confused expressions while Luann tended to her "tender vittles". None of them had ever seen anything quite like the hillbillies' house before. It was, as Voldemort had said, very quaint. It was small and cluttered, but not at all uncomfortable. In fact, it made Voldemort feel as though he were a child visiting his grandparents…well, before he killed them. Though only five minutes passed, it seemed like hours before Luann opened the kitchen door.

"It's done, y'all! And yer in fur a real treat…It's cas-suh-roll night!"

Suddenly realizing how hungry they were, the Death Eaters pushed and shoved their way to the dining room, put a large spoonful of casserole onto each of their plates, and dug in.

"Oh. My. Badness," said Voldemort, "Luann, this is delicious! What kind of casserole is this?"

Luann blushed and gave a modest smile. "Why, it's possum, a course!"

Almost in unison, every Death Eater at the table spit out a mouthful of casserole back onto their plates.

Luann looked hurt. "Is there somethin' wrong with it?"

"No, of course not," said Wormtail quickly, "We're just…shocked at how good it is!"

Luann smiled again and blushed redder than before. Voldemort stood up. "May I be excused?"

"Sure thing, hon," said Luann, and he rushed out the door.

Voldemort stood on the front porch and spat again, trying to rid his mouth completely of the taste of possum. "Now what?" he wondered.

Something rustled in a nearby bush.

"Who's there?" called Voldemort threateningly.

It rustled again.

"Show yourself at once!" His voice, though demanding, hinted at a bit of fear.

The bush rustled a third time, and a small furry creature stepped out.

"Hey, you're not so big and bad, now are you?" mocked Voldemort, approaching the raccoon. "Say, why are you foaming at the mouth like that--Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

The raccoon jumped at Voldemort's face and began to claw and bite. He ran around in circles, struggling against it. "Get off me!" he shouted, "I command you!" He attempted to pull it off his face, but its claws were dug in too tight. He staggered backward into an outhouse, unable to see a thing, and then he stopped. "What is that smell?"

The raccoon bit him right where his nose used to be, and he instinctively jumped, hitting the back of the outhouse hard. It fell over backward with Voldemort and the raccoon still inside, and the door slammed shut. The raccoon bit him again, and again he jumped, moving the outhouse further still. It bit him a third time, and before he knew it, the outhouse was rolling down a steep hill.

Bellatrix slammed the ragged screen door behind her and ran out into the front lawn. "Voldykins? I heard you scream! Where are you?" She gasped when she spotted the rolling outhouse and ran as fast as she could down the hill. "I'm coming, my lord!!" She was surprisingly quick despite her stiletto heels as she descended the steep slope.

The outhouse stopped with a crash at the bottom of the hill. The raccoon pushed its way out of the door and scurried away. Then the door opened again, slowly revealing a very injured Voldemort. His face was all scratched up and bloody, and he was covered in…well, let's not go into that.

"Voldypoo, you're ok!" screamed Bellatrix as she embraced him tightly, but she soon released him when she realized that she, too, was now filthy. However, she didn't seem to mind much. She stared at his mouth and sighed. "That foam is so sexy."

"Just…get…me…back…to…the…house…," gasped Voldemort.

"Of course…Right away!" She picked up her lord and began to carry him back toward the hillbillies' shack.

Voldemort groaned. "Hands…off…the…buttocks!"

Shocked, she jerked her hands away, dropping him by accident. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, my lord!"

"Just…get…help!"

Bellatrix nodded, and then awkwardly climbed the slope back to the shack as her master commanded.

A vulture circled overhead. Oh crap, thought Voldemort.

"No Nose! I high tailed it on over here as soon as that wild-haired city woman told me what happened!"

Voldemort breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't exactly have Earl in mind when he demanded help, but that hardly mattered now. He was going to be OK.

"Lucky fer you," Earl continued, "I have a nephew/brother/grandpa who happens to be the finest doctor 'round these parts!" He turned his head and shouted toward the house. "Hey, Carl! Go get them painful ray-bees in-jec-shuns!"

Voldemort groaned. Where was that stupid vulture when you needed it?