AN:
I'm sorry it bothers you that some letters are in italics and some aren't. To be quite honest, I just do whatever I feel like the day I'm typing these letters.
And for this letter, please become angry. Please become large. And please become a ballerina. Like that crazy girl in Black Swan. Even though she's not large.
I am terribly sorry about this TERRIBLE author's note!
For Kelsey.
You'll see why.
Harry Freaking Doodle Doo,
Do you have any idea of how jealous I am of you?
I'm really jealous.
Not just jealous.
But mega-freaky-mammoth-jolly-amazing- super-sensationally-incredibly jealous. Aboundingly-chemically-tree-computer-cloistered-equally-ajar-divergently-compactly-garrulously-pretzel-judiciously-incredibly-gutturally-hysterically-keenly-quizically jealous. So jealous that I just combined a whole bunch of words to try to express the magnitude of my jealousy. I'm not completely sure what they mean, but they're there and they should intimidate you.
Or else I could intimidate you by punching you. That always works. You know why? Since you're such a little fart knocker that you probably don't know the meaning of any of those words, either. Plus, I'm pretty good at punching. Yeah, boy. I could punch off your face. Be afraid.
Be incredibly afraid of how cool I am. Because I am so much better than you and you should be the one who is jealous, anyway.
I know. You're a freak. You know that I know that you're a freak. I think you're a freak. You know that I think you're a freak. I know that you know that I know and think you're a freak. Yeah, Potter, I'm more complex than you think. I'm not just a large person who thrives on pelting small children with rocks – I'm a large person who enjoys pelting small children with rocks (including you, even though you're twenty) and dancing.
You heard. I'm a ballerina. Who's jealous now, punk? Yeah, that's right. You are jealous of me.
You wish it was you who got to wear tights. You wish it was you who got to run around in pointe shoes and a tutu. And, most of all, you wish it was you who was me. You are just incredibly jealous of me, aren't you, Potter? Sure, I don't wear pointe shoes or tutus, but I'm sure you wish you did. And tights are very comfortable. You should give them a try one day, seriously.
Plus, other kids do Ballet, too. I met my best friend, Tommy in ballet class. It's super fun. We regularly beat people up. Like that idiot, Tyler. He does Ballet, too, but he's really bad. He doesn't get parts in any of the shows because he sucks at dancing. And everything else, really.
Me? I got the lead role. Whaddup.
I am just so cool. I dance. I beat people up. I key people's cars. Yeah, I'm just a lot of fun. And you aren't. You're a lot of not fun.
Never thought you would see the day, would you? Actually, you've always been jealous of me; you just never say anything about it since you're such a cabbage. A rotten, rancid, something-else-that-starts-with-an-r cabbage. Did you know that? I bet you did.
So, aside from how cool I am, how many friends I have, how many chocolate bars mummy and daddy buy me, and what a bloody good ballerina I am, I dominate you on the coolness scale.
I mean, you've only saved my life from some cloaked morons. Pssh. I could have done that myself if I didn't have that headache. And you had no friends except that owl. Ha! Like I needed animals to like me. And, come on, you were hiding from that noseless fellow for years! And when you finally ended your camping trip or whatever that little outing with your 'friends' even was, you killed him easily. What a pansy. I face all of my opponents like a man.
Even if they're only seven.
Yeah, I have to admit, I'm jealous of you. Mega jealous.
You know why?
You had some cool giant break into that shack and take you to Hogwarts.
You got to go to Hogwarts!
You once dropped a pudding on Mrs. Mason's head.
You never had to dine with company! You got to stay in your room and play with your dolls!
I can't deny it, Harry. You're cool. You're awesome.
You're mega-freaky-mammoth-jolly-super-sensationally-incredibly cool.
And I want to be just like you.
I want to be a wizard.
I want to be able to beat people up and curse them. That just sounds fantastic.
I want to use potions to make me a better dancer.
I could cast a spell on everyone and make them think I was the best dancer out there.
I could have gone to Hogwarts, like you.
I could have been cool, like you.
But I'm not.
I'm just a dancer trying to be as cool as you are.
What am I saying? You're not cool at all. You're a scrawny little idiot who relies on a piece of wood instead of strength. I don't need a wand. When I have a problem, I punch something and get my way.
Who is the jealous one?
Obviously, it's you.
-Dudley
AN: By the way, I'm a beta now. Wowza! I know. So if you need a beta and are willing to look past my occasional mistakes, I'll beta for you. WOO.
And if you don't need a beta and have nothing to do (even if you have something to do, like homework, or you're about to leave your house to meet Rumbleroar) go visit these people. They make me chuckle. Actually, if you are about to visit Rumbleroar, take me with you. I have a rocketship we can use.
But seriously. Go check it out.
lucypevensie42
imbananasfordananas
Wowza Powza Fee Fi Fo Fowza! I don't even know.
Yeah, I'm insane.
