Disclaimer: We do not own . . . sod it, just read the other ones.
Reviews: We are now the proud owners of nine whole reviews! OK, eight since one of them was Padfoot trying (and failing miserably) to be funny. Guess which one. Hint: Ice cream. Anyway, to our reviewers: Thank you all!
Thief: Sorry, no one has any alter egos, but Padfoot does have multiple personalities. Does that count? And Moony tells us she visits Hogwarts in her dreams.
Remus Lupin's Lover: Moony envies your name. We remind you? This is how you remind me of what I really am . . . we love Nickelback!!! Sorry, randomness. And what do you mean by "foine", please?.
Riffinton: Yup, forty-two (the random mention of DNA was nice too) we like indeed.
Boing_Bang_Kerplank: We do have too much time on our hands, but we don't think of that as a bad thing. We don't have a stalker, though we think that is a GOOD thing. If you are American and live there, we assure you you will never be able to take Polaroids of us, as we live far away from the US, in the obscurest country to ever exist. So we believe.
OK, we lied. There were no updates soon after the last. We apologize. Moony and Padfoot were in Austria with a bunch of Canadians learning how to snowboard, and Prongs was on a mountain skiingand never went below 1,500m the entire week. Sadly, we are now back at school. Even sadder . . .ly (is that a word?), we have *sob* FINISHED the Notebook! We FILLED the sodding thing in three months! We have started another notebook though! We are now called "The Remainder of the Fellowship"! Prongs is the Witch King of Angmar (WKOA), Padfoot is Pippin (and numerous other characters), Moony is Merry (and also numerous other characters) and we will introduce someone new, a friend of ours just as insane as us. So look out for a note in this fic informing you that Prongs has gotten 'round to posting The Remainder Of The Fellowship in the LOTR category.
Anyway, you will read the last of the Notebook in (judging by the rate we're going at) six months. Or six weeks, depending on Prongs. So there's no hope, really. But here's a chapter anyway.
Science Class. 14th October, 2003.
Padfoot- 'Allo!
Prongs- AHHHH! A wannabe Brit!!!! Run for your pathetic sorry excuses for lives!!!! No irish or Canadian or member of a former British colony is safe!!!!!!! (A/N Us being Irish and Canadian, we have a wee chip on the shoulder as far as the British are concerned. Not that we have anything against ALL British people, just the bloody wankers who decided to take over half the world. I'm sorry, was that over PG 13? Ah well.)
Moony- Damn the Brits! !@#^ all them lazy sons of !@#&^!!! How dare they keep us as slaves for who knows how long! (A/N Another of Moony's psych. problems: a tendendy to hold a violent grudge for a LONG time)
Prongs- Bloody stewpid Brits! Now, both of you say that in your excellent Irish accents. (A/N Prongs loves to tease Padfoot and Moony on their becoming a little Irish. And yes, Irish people do pronounce "stupid" as "stewpid". At least they do where Prongs comes from)
Padfoot- Ixnay on the ape snay!
Moony- These Science presentations are really boring. Let's try to make ours lively and humorous all right? (A/N We were watching our Science class give presentations on different elements. We decided to do caesium. All those potential explosions . . .)
Prongs- OK. We get Padfoot on an endorphin-rush and get her to present. we (Moony and I) will just restrain her when she gets too carried away with the Brit-bashing thing. Goed zo?
Padfoot- So where's the Firewhiskey? And why do I have to do all the work? Even though thinking up insults for the Brits is easy, it's me doing the work!
Moony- Good plan Prongs! Aye aye to that! Tru' dat!
Prongs- Moony: Word! Old school! Padfoot- We'll help with the insults and I'll provide the ice cream.
Padfoot- Ixnay on the axnay Exbay doe a ix potiona! (A/N If anyone can tell Moony and Prongs what the hell Padfoot is trying to say, you win a mystery prize)
Moony- You can stop TRYING to speak pig latin now, Padfoot. Prongs: What flavour ice cream? I vote chocolate-endorphins and anti-depressants (are they the same thing?)
Things To Do At Walmart
1) Browse the gun racks, take a gun down and then ask someone where the anti-depressants are.
2) Walk up very professionally to someone who works there and say professionally "Code 3 in Housewares". Walk away.
3) When the intercom comes on, scream "The voices! Make them stop!"
Prongs- Randomness is our way of life. Cookies 'n Cream!!! And why DO kamikaze pilots wear helmets? (A/N This is a question that seems fated to forever frustrate Prongs and annoy Moony and Padfoot whenever Prongs asks them that question over. And over. And over. And over.)
Padfoot- I got another thing. Go into the shoe aisles, point at the shoes and cry out "They spoke! They spoke!"
Moony- You don't have to necessarily use shoes . . .
Prongs- No. Say it in the meat or fish department.
Padfoot- They sell meat in Walmart? Sweet! I wonder if they have stag meat? He he he he . . . .
Moony- Or dog meat?!?!?
Prongs- AHHHH!!!!!!!!!! I'm scarred for life! Damn you Padfoot, damn you!
Padfoot- One for sorrow, two for mirth blah blah.
Prongs- You cretin, Padfoot. It's:
One for sorrow,
Two for mirth.
Three for a funeral,
Four for a birth.
Five for heaven,
Six for hell.
Seven's for a devil,
To be unleashed in yourself.
Science Class. 20th October, 2003.
Prongs- We just did our caesium presentation. And I, personally, think it was an almighty failure. Padfoot: What shiny pencil? (A/N Here we go . . . Prongs has nicked the shiny pencil again)
Padfoot- Hey, I was brilliant up there. Speak for yourself next time. Sheesh . . . And you know very well which shiny pencil, Prongs, and I want it back!
Moony- Well, I thought it went quite well. Not exactly brilliant as described by Padfoot -but well enough to pass with a B or B- or if we're lucky - a B+!
Prongs- Moony: OK. Maybe so. By the way, the wet ink on the transparent sheet you were holding wasn't toxic. Just thought you'd like to know since you practically put your whole HAND in it. Padfoot: I SAID " I, PERSONALLY, think it was an almighty failure". I WAS speaking for myself! Sheesh . . . And OK. I know which shiny pencil. but you won't get it back. *cue maniacal laughter*
Padfoot- Right . . . . . . . .
Moony- Prongs: For the last time, I did not put splosh my entire hand into it! I didn't even touch it! You can check my hands for proof!
Prongs- MY hands are covered in sickly orange blood. I'm not sure whose it is, it was on my desk. (A/N Padfoot insists it was someone's blood. Moony and Prongs think it was the ink from Padfoot's ORANGE fountain pen. You decide. Whatever it was, it took FOREVER to come off.) Moony: I was being sarcastic! Bloody hell. You couldn't take sarcasm if it was dropped on your head. padfoot: You STILL haven't mastered sarcasm, even after a year with me. I've even got Moony saying "bloody" now, but all your points of ellipsis gave it away.
Padfoot- Prongs: I curse you to purgatory with the CROMBEL CURSE! (A/N Prongs made the mistake of cursing Padfoot using old Irish curses. One was the CROMWELL curse. Now Padfoot will attempt to recite the magpie poem written above. See how pathetic Padfoot's memory is.) One for birth, two for death, 11 for sickness, 23 for illegal immigration, 109 for giving your children to an illegal Mafia orphanage. Bla bla bla bla. The point is you are cursed!!!!!!!!!!!!
Moony- Padfoot: I think that the curse ends at seven.. Prongs: i was being sarcastic at your sarcasm. And unlike Padfoot, I have mastered the cruel art of sarcasm.
Prongs- Moony: You have learned well, my Padawan.Padfoot- I KNOW I'm cursed. Dear Granda didn't like me breaking his table. Long story, but end result: broken table, angry Granda and cursed prongs. By the way, THOSE WEREN'T EVEN REAL CURSES!!!!!!!!!!!
Padfoot- Yes they are! I remembered!
Prongs- Then you have TERRIBLE short term memory.
Moony- Anyways . . . laboratoire time!!! (A/N All three of us were insane enough to take Science in French. Oh, how we have suffered for our folly)
Prongs- I was eating those Runt candies all through Social Studies and now I'm thirsty AS HELL! Got any water?
Padfoot- You can have some of the sulfurique acide we're experimenting with.
Moony- I've got cranberry juuice.
prongs- Yes! Cranberry juice! Please! Padfoot: Funny. I'm not suicidal. Wait. Scratch that. I'm not THAT suicidal.
Padfoot- Not THAT suicidal, eh? So somewhat suicidal. Interesting. very, very . . .bizarre.
On that note, we stop for the night. It's too late at night/early in the morning to think up a long conclusion. So we will just plead for reviews. Goodbye, my freaky darlings.
Reviews: We are now the proud owners of nine whole reviews! OK, eight since one of them was Padfoot trying (and failing miserably) to be funny. Guess which one. Hint: Ice cream. Anyway, to our reviewers: Thank you all!
Thief: Sorry, no one has any alter egos, but Padfoot does have multiple personalities. Does that count? And Moony tells us she visits Hogwarts in her dreams.
Remus Lupin's Lover: Moony envies your name. We remind you? This is how you remind me of what I really am . . . we love Nickelback!!! Sorry, randomness. And what do you mean by "foine", please?.
Riffinton: Yup, forty-two (the random mention of DNA was nice too) we like indeed.
Boing_Bang_Kerplank: We do have too much time on our hands, but we don't think of that as a bad thing. We don't have a stalker, though we think that is a GOOD thing. If you are American and live there, we assure you you will never be able to take Polaroids of us, as we live far away from the US, in the obscurest country to ever exist. So we believe.
OK, we lied. There were no updates soon after the last. We apologize. Moony and Padfoot were in Austria with a bunch of Canadians learning how to snowboard, and Prongs was on a mountain skiingand never went below 1,500m the entire week. Sadly, we are now back at school. Even sadder . . .ly (is that a word?), we have *sob* FINISHED the Notebook! We FILLED the sodding thing in three months! We have started another notebook though! We are now called "The Remainder of the Fellowship"! Prongs is the Witch King of Angmar (WKOA), Padfoot is Pippin (and numerous other characters), Moony is Merry (and also numerous other characters) and we will introduce someone new, a friend of ours just as insane as us. So look out for a note in this fic informing you that Prongs has gotten 'round to posting The Remainder Of The Fellowship in the LOTR category.
Anyway, you will read the last of the Notebook in (judging by the rate we're going at) six months. Or six weeks, depending on Prongs. So there's no hope, really. But here's a chapter anyway.
Science Class. 14th October, 2003.
Padfoot- 'Allo!
Prongs- AHHHH! A wannabe Brit!!!! Run for your pathetic sorry excuses for lives!!!! No irish or Canadian or member of a former British colony is safe!!!!!!! (A/N Us being Irish and Canadian, we have a wee chip on the shoulder as far as the British are concerned. Not that we have anything against ALL British people, just the bloody wankers who decided to take over half the world. I'm sorry, was that over PG 13? Ah well.)
Moony- Damn the Brits! !@#^ all them lazy sons of !@#&^!!! How dare they keep us as slaves for who knows how long! (A/N Another of Moony's psych. problems: a tendendy to hold a violent grudge for a LONG time)
Prongs- Bloody stewpid Brits! Now, both of you say that in your excellent Irish accents. (A/N Prongs loves to tease Padfoot and Moony on their becoming a little Irish. And yes, Irish people do pronounce "stupid" as "stewpid". At least they do where Prongs comes from)
Padfoot- Ixnay on the ape snay!
Moony- These Science presentations are really boring. Let's try to make ours lively and humorous all right? (A/N We were watching our Science class give presentations on different elements. We decided to do caesium. All those potential explosions . . .)
Prongs- OK. We get Padfoot on an endorphin-rush and get her to present. we (Moony and I) will just restrain her when she gets too carried away with the Brit-bashing thing. Goed zo?
Padfoot- So where's the Firewhiskey? And why do I have to do all the work? Even though thinking up insults for the Brits is easy, it's me doing the work!
Moony- Good plan Prongs! Aye aye to that! Tru' dat!
Prongs- Moony: Word! Old school! Padfoot- We'll help with the insults and I'll provide the ice cream.
Padfoot- Ixnay on the axnay Exbay doe a ix potiona! (A/N If anyone can tell Moony and Prongs what the hell Padfoot is trying to say, you win a mystery prize)
Moony- You can stop TRYING to speak pig latin now, Padfoot. Prongs: What flavour ice cream? I vote chocolate-endorphins and anti-depressants (are they the same thing?)
Things To Do At Walmart
1) Browse the gun racks, take a gun down and then ask someone where the anti-depressants are.
2) Walk up very professionally to someone who works there and say professionally "Code 3 in Housewares". Walk away.
3) When the intercom comes on, scream "The voices! Make them stop!"
Prongs- Randomness is our way of life. Cookies 'n Cream!!! And why DO kamikaze pilots wear helmets? (A/N This is a question that seems fated to forever frustrate Prongs and annoy Moony and Padfoot whenever Prongs asks them that question over. And over. And over. And over.)
Padfoot- I got another thing. Go into the shoe aisles, point at the shoes and cry out "They spoke! They spoke!"
Moony- You don't have to necessarily use shoes . . .
Prongs- No. Say it in the meat or fish department.
Padfoot- They sell meat in Walmart? Sweet! I wonder if they have stag meat? He he he he . . . .
Moony- Or dog meat?!?!?
Prongs- AHHHH!!!!!!!!!! I'm scarred for life! Damn you Padfoot, damn you!
Padfoot- One for sorrow, two for mirth blah blah.
Prongs- You cretin, Padfoot. It's:
One for sorrow,
Two for mirth.
Three for a funeral,
Four for a birth.
Five for heaven,
Six for hell.
Seven's for a devil,
To be unleashed in yourself.
Science Class. 20th October, 2003.
Prongs- We just did our caesium presentation. And I, personally, think it was an almighty failure. Padfoot: What shiny pencil? (A/N Here we go . . . Prongs has nicked the shiny pencil again)
Padfoot- Hey, I was brilliant up there. Speak for yourself next time. Sheesh . . . And you know very well which shiny pencil, Prongs, and I want it back!
Moony- Well, I thought it went quite well. Not exactly brilliant as described by Padfoot -but well enough to pass with a B or B- or if we're lucky - a B+!
Prongs- Moony: OK. Maybe so. By the way, the wet ink on the transparent sheet you were holding wasn't toxic. Just thought you'd like to know since you practically put your whole HAND in it. Padfoot: I SAID " I, PERSONALLY, think it was an almighty failure". I WAS speaking for myself! Sheesh . . . And OK. I know which shiny pencil. but you won't get it back. *cue maniacal laughter*
Padfoot- Right . . . . . . . .
Moony- Prongs: For the last time, I did not put splosh my entire hand into it! I didn't even touch it! You can check my hands for proof!
Prongs- MY hands are covered in sickly orange blood. I'm not sure whose it is, it was on my desk. (A/N Padfoot insists it was someone's blood. Moony and Prongs think it was the ink from Padfoot's ORANGE fountain pen. You decide. Whatever it was, it took FOREVER to come off.) Moony: I was being sarcastic! Bloody hell. You couldn't take sarcasm if it was dropped on your head. padfoot: You STILL haven't mastered sarcasm, even after a year with me. I've even got Moony saying "bloody" now, but all your points of ellipsis gave it away.
Padfoot- Prongs: I curse you to purgatory with the CROMBEL CURSE! (A/N Prongs made the mistake of cursing Padfoot using old Irish curses. One was the CROMWELL curse. Now Padfoot will attempt to recite the magpie poem written above. See how pathetic Padfoot's memory is.) One for birth, two for death, 11 for sickness, 23 for illegal immigration, 109 for giving your children to an illegal Mafia orphanage. Bla bla bla bla. The point is you are cursed!!!!!!!!!!!!
Moony- Padfoot: I think that the curse ends at seven.. Prongs: i was being sarcastic at your sarcasm. And unlike Padfoot, I have mastered the cruel art of sarcasm.
Prongs- Moony: You have learned well, my Padawan.Padfoot- I KNOW I'm cursed. Dear Granda didn't like me breaking his table. Long story, but end result: broken table, angry Granda and cursed prongs. By the way, THOSE WEREN'T EVEN REAL CURSES!!!!!!!!!!!
Padfoot- Yes they are! I remembered!
Prongs- Then you have TERRIBLE short term memory.
Moony- Anyways . . . laboratoire time!!! (A/N All three of us were insane enough to take Science in French. Oh, how we have suffered for our folly)
Prongs- I was eating those Runt candies all through Social Studies and now I'm thirsty AS HELL! Got any water?
Padfoot- You can have some of the sulfurique acide we're experimenting with.
Moony- I've got cranberry juuice.
prongs- Yes! Cranberry juice! Please! Padfoot: Funny. I'm not suicidal. Wait. Scratch that. I'm not THAT suicidal.
Padfoot- Not THAT suicidal, eh? So somewhat suicidal. Interesting. very, very . . .bizarre.
On that note, we stop for the night. It's too late at night/early in the morning to think up a long conclusion. So we will just plead for reviews. Goodbye, my freaky darlings.