A/N
OK SO. Lots has gone on since the Inebriated Author last took a shit on his keyboard at 2 AM. Work was done, personal growth was accomplished, goals were met, and nights were spent alone playing video games. I done had ideas, yes, absolutely, but I was lazy. Tonight, however, is different.
I began the night with a whiskey tasting at the local higher-end liquor store. Had some strong shit. Then, I played dungeons and dragons. Then I had a high-quality cranberry juniper beer called "Luciferic Aspirations." Was honestly delicious, highly recommend. Not sponsored. Really. Who the fuck would sponsor this garbage. Then I watched AMVs that I watched when I was 12 and had a flood of memories return to me. Yikes. Then I went to my friends house and drank orange juice mixed with tequila while we played Pokemon snap. Noice.
In any case, I return to you in good faith. Let's fuck shit up.
Disclaimer: What's the deal with disclaimers? Fuck that noise.
Previously on Harry Potter and the Inebriated Author:
'Real' George Costanza turned Harry Potter into Jerry Seinfeld using magic. Then the author fell asleep on the keyboard and messed up Hogwarts. Haha epic burn. Then cultural references abounded. Dumb shit, y'know. Also I said Luna was at home but I'm about to retcon that. Fuck you.
So using Inebriated Author powers, I fixed the pop culture problem. Seems that all it takes for an author to remove needless pop culture references from their works is to get their head out of their asses for once.
"Feisty one you are!" said Will from the Inbetweeners. Dumbledore appeared out of thin air and kicked him in the cock.
"Mmhmm, yes, Will, sorry for kicking you in your masculine hot dog. It seems we still have a bigger problem at hand. Young Harry here, or should I say, Jerry," at which point, Harry/Jerry glared, "is stuck in this present form."
"I don't see the problem here, Professor," George Costanza chimed in. Oh yeah, they're all fucking together for some fucking reason. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. Ass.
"Hrmmmm," Professor McDonaldagall harped, "I am serious and a tough love person. Put in effort with me and it'll pay off. I'll smirk as you mouth off to the wrong authority figure."
"Indeed, Professor," Dumbledore responded, lightheartedly with added emphasis through his blue fuckin twinkly eyes. "Yes, we have the problem of young Mr. Potter. To that end, I think it best to invite a professional to help us out."
"Surely, Albus, you don't mean—" McDonaldagall started but was cut off by Dumbledore.
"Unfortunately, I do mean." Dumbledore turned towards Harry, "M'boy, I'm sorry to put you through this garbage. You deserve better. You really do." Also then he totally banged Grindelwald who happened to be there. Topical. Oh wait, sorry, not that kind of fanfiction.
"Professor," Harry responded, "what on Earth do you mean? What's not to like with an expert on demons?"
"I imagine you'll see very shortly."
And Dumbledore was right. No sooner than the words had left the oratory crevice before his nasal mountain than the doors to the main hall popped open and an ornery slender crazy hair motherfucker popped in and slid across the floor. Harry was struck. This fucker was the spitting image of Cosmo Kramer from fucking Seinfeld. WHAT THE FUCK. He did the entrance.
"Hey!"
"Kramer?!" George Costanza yelled, "The gang is getting back together!"
George ran towards Kramer and embraced him in a mighty magical bear hug. Take the word bear to have, perhaps, several definitions. Kramer looked towards Dumbledore and gestured towards George. He mouthed the phrase 'this the one?' Dumbledore sullenly nodded.
"It's so good to see you, Kramer! Did you know that magic is real?! And that Jerry's a real wizard?!"
"Crazy, story George. Almost as wild as Bob Sacamano. Could you let me go for a second?"
George immediately let go and backed off sheepishly. "Sorry to trouble you, mate. Just missed you, is all."
Suddenly, the door to the Great Hall burst open. Out came several students, including Luna Lovegood, who was indeed at Hogwarts despite any previous assertions that she was not. "Uncle Cosmo!" she yelled, and ran and hugged the man.
Harry turned inwards, like metaphorically, and was all like, "uhhhh what?"
Cosmo, sensing Harry's distress, quickly walked over. "So, uh, y'see Harry, I'm actually me. I'm not a demon like George Costanza. Michael Richards is my twin brother. I'm Cosmo Thucydides, Pandora Lovegood's—and Michael Richards's—brother. Michael Richards is a stage name, he's a squib."
Harry's jaw dropped. "What the fuck."
"Y'know they say you're supposed to show not tell, but I honestly don't know how the fuck you'd do that in this situation. Sorry, Harry." Kramer said, and then he spasmed a bit. "Michael based his character off of me for the show, if it's worth anything. I'm the closest thing there could be to a real Cosmo Kramer."
"But you are a real Cosmo Kramer." Harry responded.
"Magic, young Mr. Potter," Cosmo said, then spasmed some more.
"So you're…"
"A Demonologist. Mighty convenient, isn't it?" Kramer asked. Harry nodded. "Now, of course, there's other things I do, too. I tend to do odd wizard jobs for my pal Wizard Bob Sacamano. I also never officially quit my job at the wizard bagel store, though that's a story for another time."
Luna Lovegood chimed in, "I take it, Harry, that you're familiar with my Uncle Cosmo? Uncle Michael loves poking fun at him as he performs on the hit television series Seinfeld. We all love to binge watch that shit while we play old school runescape ~smiley face~."
"Yes, Luna," Harry responded, "I'm quite familiar with that show."
"Now that you mention it, Harry, I do see you're quite possessed by that Jerry fellow's body. Or is it the other way around?" Luna asked.
"Way I see it, I can't tell where Harry ends and Jerry begins," Cosmo piped in.
"Shut the fuck up, imbeciles, we have work to do," Dumbledore said.
"Oh, also I was a Ravenclaw," Cosmo said.
"Yes, thank you." Dumbledore added. "Well, I reckon that should tide our single reader over for the next four months."
"Agreed," Harry said.
You have my blessing, Harry m'boy.
