Disclaimer: Were we supposed to do one? There's nothing in here that has much to do with Harry Potter . . . Oh, yes, the title. Right then. Ahem. We do not own the names the Marauders, Moony, Padfoot or Prongs. Any references to fanfics that aren't ours have been pointed out. Thank you. Now, carry on reading, or go tell your shrink that the voices in your head and/or on fanfiction.net are annoying you again, whichever seems more appropriate.
Now. Prongs was given the task of typing up the notebook and getting it on fanfiction.net. Those introductions, conclusions and wonderfully random Author's Notes timed to be read right before you poor readers decide to go raise carrier pidgeons instead of trying to fathom what we were talking about in our conversations. Or maybe Prongs made a mistake in her calculations and you all left anyway. Anyway, Prongs is typing up the notebook. She can't work out how to make thing bold, italicised or underlined. As you might have guessed, Prongs isn't very good at simple or practical things. Damn, I hate talking about myself in third person. It gets confusing. And it makes me think I'm writing a psychoanalysis of myself. Which, theoretically, I am. Whoa. Deep.
Sorry, off topic again. Prongs is now back in psychoanalysis and third person mode again. Will some kind reader who has posted a story before please tell Prongs how to do bold, italics and underline, please?
We will now precede to start the story and turn the brains of all readers into mush. With gravy. On to the rambling!
Spanish Class
(A/N *Grins sheepishly*. Not like a sheep, you understand. Just slightly ashamed of the fact that yous are hearing from me so soon. Anyway. Prongs and Padfoot are in Spanish and the teacher was trying to teach us how to say weather conditions. Sunny, cloudy etc. Problem: She couldn't get us to understand "rainy". Action: She opened an umbrella. Effect: The whole class freaked out. Bad luck and all that.)
Padfoot- I don't wanna die! I'm too young. I have millions to make and spend and now I'm going to die because of an umbrella being opened indoors! Nooooooo!
Prongs- There you go. Life. Or something like it.
Padfoot- Something like it, eh? That's a mind trip. Just like "If anything is possible, is it possible that nothing is possible?" and "What would it be like if you choked a smurf?" There's a lot to think about, eh? Change of subject: She keeps staring at me . . . I think she knows!
Prongs- Knows what? Are you hiding something from me? You mean . . . it was all a lie? You need conselling. or a good memory Charm.
Padfoot- What are you talking about? Invading Moony's column while Moony's "sick"? . . . hmmm. Interesting, you amateur advice columnist! And yes, I know your secret . . . Juan Stamos!
(A/N To understand the last paragraph, you need to have read The Gryffindor Oracle and Ask Moony. The Juan Stamos thing was because Padfoot was trying to explain to Prongs who John Stamos is. Prongs, being a little out of it, thought his last name sounded vaguely Spanish and promptly re-christened him "Juan Stamos" Oh, and for the next few paragraphs, Prongs and Juan Stamos are in no way related (at least, as far as Prongs knows) and Padfoot and Prongs were just spinning a random comment by Padfoot waaaaaaay out of whack)
Prongs- No! No! Juan Stamos isn't my uncle! I've never met him! And he certaintly isn't my godfather!
Padfoot- Ha! You just admitted your secret!
Prongs- Fine, he is my uncle, but my grandfather disowned him after the Mary-Kate and Ashley show. We don't talk about him much. Too embarrassing.
Padfoot- Change of subject: . . . . . . *chanting* "Think, think, think" Got any ideas?
Science Class
Moony- Hello, all my undermining, prankster friends! Must congratualte you on your superb conversation and having fun . . . WITHOUT ME!! Prongs: That would mean that your garndfather is . . . no it's too horrible . . . you know you . . . is . . . our Headmaster of the Middle School!!! Padfoot: I don't even want to say anything to you because I know you'll turn whatever I say inot something twisted that will most likely decrease my IQ by 20%.
(A/N Great. Now the men in white coats can guess our approximate ages. Anyway, when she was talking about the headmaster/grandfather thing, Moony is referring to a fanfic. Can't remember which one, but if anyone who actually reads this (big if) actually wants to know, Prongs will (damned third person again . . .) try and remember and tell you.)
Padfoot- Was that an insult my friend?Oh yeah, we have to do the "coin prank" when you glue a coin to the floor and watch people try to pick it up! While taking photos for future blackmail! MWAHAHAHAHA!!
Prongs- Did that. Grade 5. Coin. Headmaster. No sense of humour. Need I say more? But maybe Grandad, I mean Dr. Crowley, will let us.
Moony- We must! It has been decided! You have my sword/bow/axe . . We must form a plan!
Padfoot- Whoa, one step at a time . . . Prongs, dod you say Grandad? Bum bu bum!
Prongs- No! No, I didn't! OK, tomorrow, Padfoot brings the camera, Moony brings the glue and I'll bring the money. So it begins . . .
Padfoot- I have a camera! Oh yes this will work!I will have my revenge! MWAHAHAHAHA!
Moony- Revenge on who/what?
Padfoot- Way to ruin the air of *mystery* Moony!
Prongs- No. Moony had a point. THERE IS NO POINT TO REVENGE! Who will we get first? Or we can commit random acts of mind-boggling annoyance.
Padfoot- Air of Mystery my stupid, lazy, no humourous minions!!!!
Prongs- Ah-ha *mutters under breath about schizophrenia*
Padfoot-Who has schizophrenia? You, you idiot! Me? Who else? Moony, my friend Moony. You don't have any friends! Moony and Prongs are my friends! They're freakin' idiots!
Moony- Prongs: I vote for "random acts of mind-boggling annoyance"! Now that I have casted my vote I will now reside the rest of my non-existant life (otherwise known as Science class) actually listening to Mr. Bockins.
Prongs- 2 votes against 1. We win! OK, random acts of mind-boggling annoyance it is. Padfoot: get conselling or a good Memory Charm (A/N Another fanfic reference.AbigailNicole, you are hilarious!). Moony: I have a paper at home wiht a bunch of practical jokes written on it. I'll bring it in. #1: Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy". I will now hand over the notebook to Padfoot, in accordance with the prophecy.
Padfoot- Whoa, you lost me at "OK"
Moony- I have found the perfect spork- my life's quest is over at last- in accordance with the prophecy. (A/N Yet another fanfic reference. At The Opera. Hilarious fanfic)
Prongs- Our mascot/calling card will be a spork, in accordance with the prophecy.
Welcome to madness . . . (in accordance to the prophecy)
And with those wise words, we end tonight's broadcast. Please tune in . . . *consults calendar* whenever Prongs (bloody third person AGAIN) can bother deciphering Moony, Padfoot and her (her's especially) handwriting, then typing it up while restraining herself from laughing intermittently at the sheer randomness and stupidity of it all.
If Kathryn is reading this- STAY AWAY FROM SCISSORS!!!!
Farewell, whoever may be insane enough to read this. Mark the occasion and review, please. That way we will know that we are not the only human people on fanfiction.net and that the rest of the accounts are not computerized. The evils of technology . . . Making us all paranoid. But then, I wouldn't be so paranoid if everyone wasn't out to get me. Damn it, that was supposed to be in third person. Ah, well.
Merry Nondescript Non-Religious De-Nationalized Season of Vague Celebration Not Necessarily Based on Tradition or Belief.
Now. Prongs was given the task of typing up the notebook and getting it on fanfiction.net. Those introductions, conclusions and wonderfully random Author's Notes timed to be read right before you poor readers decide to go raise carrier pidgeons instead of trying to fathom what we were talking about in our conversations. Or maybe Prongs made a mistake in her calculations and you all left anyway. Anyway, Prongs is typing up the notebook. She can't work out how to make thing bold, italicised or underlined. As you might have guessed, Prongs isn't very good at simple or practical things. Damn, I hate talking about myself in third person. It gets confusing. And it makes me think I'm writing a psychoanalysis of myself. Which, theoretically, I am. Whoa. Deep.
Sorry, off topic again. Prongs is now back in psychoanalysis and third person mode again. Will some kind reader who has posted a story before please tell Prongs how to do bold, italics and underline, please?
We will now precede to start the story and turn the brains of all readers into mush. With gravy. On to the rambling!
Spanish Class
(A/N *Grins sheepishly*. Not like a sheep, you understand. Just slightly ashamed of the fact that yous are hearing from me so soon. Anyway. Prongs and Padfoot are in Spanish and the teacher was trying to teach us how to say weather conditions. Sunny, cloudy etc. Problem: She couldn't get us to understand "rainy". Action: She opened an umbrella. Effect: The whole class freaked out. Bad luck and all that.)
Padfoot- I don't wanna die! I'm too young. I have millions to make and spend and now I'm going to die because of an umbrella being opened indoors! Nooooooo!
Prongs- There you go. Life. Or something like it.
Padfoot- Something like it, eh? That's a mind trip. Just like "If anything is possible, is it possible that nothing is possible?" and "What would it be like if you choked a smurf?" There's a lot to think about, eh? Change of subject: She keeps staring at me . . . I think she knows!
Prongs- Knows what? Are you hiding something from me? You mean . . . it was all a lie? You need conselling. or a good memory Charm.
Padfoot- What are you talking about? Invading Moony's column while Moony's "sick"? . . . hmmm. Interesting, you amateur advice columnist! And yes, I know your secret . . . Juan Stamos!
(A/N To understand the last paragraph, you need to have read The Gryffindor Oracle and Ask Moony. The Juan Stamos thing was because Padfoot was trying to explain to Prongs who John Stamos is. Prongs, being a little out of it, thought his last name sounded vaguely Spanish and promptly re-christened him "Juan Stamos" Oh, and for the next few paragraphs, Prongs and Juan Stamos are in no way related (at least, as far as Prongs knows) and Padfoot and Prongs were just spinning a random comment by Padfoot waaaaaaay out of whack)
Prongs- No! No! Juan Stamos isn't my uncle! I've never met him! And he certaintly isn't my godfather!
Padfoot- Ha! You just admitted your secret!
Prongs- Fine, he is my uncle, but my grandfather disowned him after the Mary-Kate and Ashley show. We don't talk about him much. Too embarrassing.
Padfoot- Change of subject: . . . . . . *chanting* "Think, think, think" Got any ideas?
Science Class
Moony- Hello, all my undermining, prankster friends! Must congratualte you on your superb conversation and having fun . . . WITHOUT ME!! Prongs: That would mean that your garndfather is . . . no it's too horrible . . . you know you . . . is . . . our Headmaster of the Middle School!!! Padfoot: I don't even want to say anything to you because I know you'll turn whatever I say inot something twisted that will most likely decrease my IQ by 20%.
(A/N Great. Now the men in white coats can guess our approximate ages. Anyway, when she was talking about the headmaster/grandfather thing, Moony is referring to a fanfic. Can't remember which one, but if anyone who actually reads this (big if) actually wants to know, Prongs will (damned third person again . . .) try and remember and tell you.)
Padfoot- Was that an insult my friend?Oh yeah, we have to do the "coin prank" when you glue a coin to the floor and watch people try to pick it up! While taking photos for future blackmail! MWAHAHAHAHA!!
Prongs- Did that. Grade 5. Coin. Headmaster. No sense of humour. Need I say more? But maybe Grandad, I mean Dr. Crowley, will let us.
Moony- We must! It has been decided! You have my sword/bow/axe . . We must form a plan!
Padfoot- Whoa, one step at a time . . . Prongs, dod you say Grandad? Bum bu bum!
Prongs- No! No, I didn't! OK, tomorrow, Padfoot brings the camera, Moony brings the glue and I'll bring the money. So it begins . . .
Padfoot- I have a camera! Oh yes this will work!I will have my revenge! MWAHAHAHAHA!
Moony- Revenge on who/what?
Padfoot- Way to ruin the air of *mystery* Moony!
Prongs- No. Moony had a point. THERE IS NO POINT TO REVENGE! Who will we get first? Or we can commit random acts of mind-boggling annoyance.
Padfoot- Air of Mystery my stupid, lazy, no humourous minions!!!!
Prongs- Ah-ha *mutters under breath about schizophrenia*
Padfoot-Who has schizophrenia? You, you idiot! Me? Who else? Moony, my friend Moony. You don't have any friends! Moony and Prongs are my friends! They're freakin' idiots!
Moony- Prongs: I vote for "random acts of mind-boggling annoyance"! Now that I have casted my vote I will now reside the rest of my non-existant life (otherwise known as Science class) actually listening to Mr. Bockins.
Prongs- 2 votes against 1. We win! OK, random acts of mind-boggling annoyance it is. Padfoot: get conselling or a good Memory Charm (A/N Another fanfic reference.AbigailNicole, you are hilarious!). Moony: I have a paper at home wiht a bunch of practical jokes written on it. I'll bring it in. #1: Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy". I will now hand over the notebook to Padfoot, in accordance with the prophecy.
Padfoot- Whoa, you lost me at "OK"
Moony- I have found the perfect spork- my life's quest is over at last- in accordance with the prophecy. (A/N Yet another fanfic reference. At The Opera. Hilarious fanfic)
Prongs- Our mascot/calling card will be a spork, in accordance with the prophecy.
Welcome to madness . . . (in accordance to the prophecy)
And with those wise words, we end tonight's broadcast. Please tune in . . . *consults calendar* whenever Prongs (bloody third person AGAIN) can bother deciphering Moony, Padfoot and her (her's especially) handwriting, then typing it up while restraining herself from laughing intermittently at the sheer randomness and stupidity of it all.
If Kathryn is reading this- STAY AWAY FROM SCISSORS!!!!
Farewell, whoever may be insane enough to read this. Mark the occasion and review, please. That way we will know that we are not the only human people on fanfiction.net and that the rest of the accounts are not computerized. The evils of technology . . . Making us all paranoid. But then, I wouldn't be so paranoid if everyone wasn't out to get me. Damn it, that was supposed to be in third person. Ah, well.
Merry Nondescript Non-Religious De-Nationalized Season of Vague Celebration Not Necessarily Based on Tradition or Belief.