A/N Hi fans!
(Two random passer by-ers: What fans?)
Anyway, I'm SORRY this took so long. I was typing away at the thing, but Super-Vold kept complaining that he wanted gold underpants. I did explain that we are on a tight budget here, and therefore he's going to have to make do with silver ones but, well, you know Super-Vold. He's kinda stubborn. So anyway, all contributions to the Super-Vold gold pants appeal will be very gratefully received.
Disclaimer: Wasn't me. (sorry, HAD to say that ::giggles madly as readers stare in pity:: sorry!) Anyway, mes petites cochons, as we say in France, - on to ze fic! 'OORAY!
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SUPER-VOLD2 (do you think somebody would like to make a film out of this?)
Announcer Bloke: So. Where were we?
Helpful Random Passer-by: In Tesco's Car park!
Announcer Bloke: Oh yes. Thank you.
Helpful Random Passer-by: That's okay. Five pounds please.
Announcer Bloke: Go away.
Not-so helpful Passer-by: Okay.
(Goes away)
Announcer Bloke: So, we're in Tesco's car park, dismally watching the ravaging flames as they destroy everything burnable, yet remarkably do not kill anyone because this is humour, and the author does not want to be held responsible for giving little kiddies nightmares. The hose with a slow leak is still feebly attempting to put out the fire, but is having no luck at all, because if it did manage to put out the flames, the story would have to end without giving Super-Vold the chance to show us all how incredibly amazing he is, and everyone would be really upset and bored. Isn't that right, Sarah?
Sarah, a random female: Oooh yes! I'd be totally heartbroken if I didn't get the chance to see Super-Vold. He's soooo sexy! Me and the girls came down here specially just to see him and his y-fronts, didn't we girls?
100 female Super-Vold fans: (scream) EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Announcer Bloke: So, umm….you obviously like Super-Vold, girls?
100 female Super-Vold fans: (scream) EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Announcer Bloke: Er, right…I'll take that as a yes, then. But of course, Super-Vold hasn't actually arrived yet. Reports are coming in saying that Super-Vold has been held up by a ….er…bird? (To camera man) Is that right? (Cameraman doesn't know) How would you feel, girls, if Super-Vold didn't turn up at all?
100 female Super-Vold fans: (groan) OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Announcer Bloke: Not very happy about that, obviously. And, what about the news that Super-Vold has been held up by his bird? Many of us didn't even know that Super-Vold had a girl friend.
100 female Super-Vold fans: WAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(They are obviously very upset)
Announcer Bloke: Well, as you're obviously very upset………umm…….we're just going to go back to Tom in the studio for an update on the Weather. Over to you Tom.
(We return the studio. Tom is standing by a weather chart with lots of little clouds and raindrops on it. Pretty.)
Tom: It's raining.
Announcer Bloke: No it's not!
Tom: Sorry?
Announcer Bloke: It's not raining!
Tom: Do you mean to say that you are actually questioning my weather forecasting skills?
Announcer Bloke: Errrmmm…..yes!
Tom: You are actually disagreeing with my weather predictions?
Announcer Bloke: Yes! I'm outside in the Tesco car park, and I can honestly reassure all our viewers that it is definitely NOT raining.
Tom: (spluttering in indignation.) How dare you? How dare you!!!
Announcer Bloke: Oh shut up, you boring, sad, man.
Tom: I will not! I will not shut up! You have insulted my reputation as one of the BBC's most prestigious weather forecaster! You have dared to question my judgement! You have committed the worst crime known to mankind! You have blatantly questioned my credibility as a weather forecaster! You shall smart for this, you maggot, you scoundrel, you, you, you - mangy wretch!!!
(He is getting really upset)
Announcer Bloke: Oh be quiet, Tom. Go and play a nice soothing game of dominoes, or something.
Tom: No! I will not go and play a nice soothing game of dominoes or something! You Announcer Blokes think you rule the whole World, but you can't rule me you ratbag!
Announcer Bloke: Calm down Tom -
Tom: Traitor!
Announcer Bloke: Yes, yes, all right -
Tom: You F***ing, turd!!!
Announcer Bloke: Yes, well that appears to be all from Tom for now -
Tom: Bastard!
Announcer Bloke: He'll be back with more news of the Weather later-
Tom: Oh no I won't, you miserable, moth-eaten wet blanket! You've seen the last of me! I'm going to where I know I'll be appreciated, you arsehole!
Announcer Bloke: Yes, well Tom's off to ask ITV for a job; whether they take him on is questionable, but until then we'll say-
Tom: Smelly knickers!
Announcer Bloke: Well, no, what I actually meant to say was -
BANG.
Oh dear. It appears that Tom is now indisposed. He seems to be very unwell. In fact, he's dead. I shot him. Oh , what a pity; he's gone.
(Suddenly, there is the sound of a small explosion. The fire, which was already quite big, has shot upwards and is now twice as high as it was before. Things are getting distinctly boring.)
Announcer Bloke: Good grief. What happened there? Don't worry everybody, I'm just going to speak to Geoffrey, the store manager, and see what happened. Geoffrey, that was quite a explosion. Would you mind telling us what happened?
Geoffrey: Erm..well at this stage, it's hard to tell. We think the flames reached the mustard and HP source section and, well….that stuff's quite strong, you know.
Announcer Bloke: Good grief. So whenever we smother our food in HP source, we are in fact stuffing ourselves with highly flammable explosives?
Geoffrey: It would appear so, yes.
Announcer Bloke: Oh dear.
But all this is suddenly faded into obscurity when a random female Super-Vold fan points at the sky and says 'Look!'
A random female Super-Vold fan, (pointing at the sky): Look!
What has she spotted? Could it be, after all our patient waiting, after the terrifying seconds when the mustard and hp source section of the supermarket exploded, could this finally be…..SUPER-VOLD?!!!!……It looks very like him; that distinctive motor hoover, that snake-like yet still roguishly handsome face, and those….err…. unforgettable, er…underpants…?……Yes! It is him! HOORAY!!!
Announcer Bloke: Super-Vold is fast approaching Tesco's carpark! He is fast! He is swift! He is brave! He is cool!…but what's with the underpants?
The 100 female Super-Vold fans are very pleased to see Super-Vold, despite the underwear situation. They all scream very loudly as he lands on his motor hoover.
100 female Super-Vold fans, (very loudly): EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Super-Vold lands; dusts himself down; and does a little pelvic thrust. He bears an uncanny resemblance to Lord Flasheart. Woof.
100 female Super-Vold fans: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Super-Vold: Hey fans! I'm back! It's Super-Is- this-a-motor-hoover-in-my-pocket-or-am-I-pleased-to-see-you-Vold!!! Woof!!!
100 female Super-Vold fans: WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!
Announcer Bloke: Umm…shouldn't that be a broomstick in my pocket, Super-Vold?
Super-Vold: (sees Announcer Bloke. Face lights up as he recognises his old friend and ex-gay lover) It's Dave! Hey Dave! Long time, no see. You look sex-eee!!! WOOF!
Announcer Bloke, now known as Dave: WOOF!
Super-Vold: See, Dave loves me! He loves me! Everybody loves me!
Geoffrey: Ahem.
Super-Vold: Oh yeah - except him of course. Allegedly. So, Geoffrey The Sad Arse To End All Sad Arses, what can I do for your pathetic, snivelling little person?
Geoffrey: (blushing at all these compliments - Super-Vold is always so lovely to him). Oh yes…well I am sorry to interrupt you, but there is just the small fact of the rather large fire currently burning ten feet away from us, and I would be very grateful if you would put it out for us.
(SUPER-VOLD looks at fire and laughs)
Super-Vold: Is that all?!
Geoffrey: All!! What do you mean all?!
Super-Vold: But I was hoping for something much bigger….something to match the size of my mighty hosepipe, for example. Hey girls! Look at my mighty hosepipe!
(The thought of Super-Vold's mighty hose pipe causes Dave, Sarah, 100 female Super-Vold fans, and two homosexuals who have just arrived, to swoon all over the carpark. Not a pretty sight. Geoffrey hurriedly thinks of cold showers, grannies knitting, hp sauce…...no, not a good idea, and just manages to control himself.)
Geoffrey: Oh, well I'm sorry if it's not good enough for you, Super-Vold, but would you mind putting it out?
Super-Vold: Don't worry Grandpa, my hose and I are on the job.
Geoffrey: Ahhhhmmm….what hose?
Super-Vold: (producing what is indeed, a very mighty hosepipe) This one!
104 Super-Vold fans, (I'm including Dave, Sarah and the two strange male individuals wearing purple pvc hotpants): WOWEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!
(They are very impressed)
Geoffrey: Oh….that one. (gulps) Right. Yes. That one. Ah.
(He is very jealous)
Super-Vold: Just leave it to me and my trusty hosepipe; we'll have this under control in no time.
Geoffrey, (weakly): Right. Ummm. Okay. (another gulp).
So, Our Hero boldly marches into the fire, wielding his 'hosepipe'. And, before you can say, 'I may be a really evil guy with an unfortunate mania for killing people, but hey! My hosepipe ROCKS!', the fire is out. Super-Vold calmly pops his hosepipe back where it should be, amid the wild screams of the crowd.
104 Super-Vold fans, and Geoffrey who is now a newly converted Super-Vold fan: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Super-Vold: Thank you, thank you. You're too kind!….no, really it was nothing……my autograph? Yes, certainly - my publicist over there has a large stack of sighed photos - do help yourselves!
Lucius Malfoy has suddenly appeared, complete with trademark!Malfoy Leather Ldt. Trousers and tank top, and truck load of sighed photos. At the sight of him, (and the trousers,) quite a few Super-Vold fans forget their pledges of undying love to him and become the founding members of the Lucius Fan Club. This, however all changes when Draco pops his head into the scene, (I'm not quite sure why - but he was making a lot of fuss about his dad snatching all the limelight, and you know how he hates being left out - bless him - so here he is….well, I'm sure no-body's complaining….) Anyway, at the sight of Draco, the brief history of the Lucius fan club comes to a sudden halt, before starting up again as the Draco Fan Club. But this is all just unimportant trivia; on wis ze fic! Lucius, by the way is still handing out photos.
Lucius: Over here, girls!
Girls: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (they are just realising, several months too late - Cassandra Claire has been writing things about Draco and leather trousers for ages - the delight to be found where Malfoys and leather trousers are combined.)
Super-Vold, however, is preparing to leave.
Super-Vold: Well fans, gotta go.
Dave, who is starting to realise the feelings he still has for Super-Vold: Oh don't go, Super-Vold.
Super-Vold: Sorry, but you know what they say; there's only one Super-Vold, but a heck of a lot of girls -
Dave: And boys.
Super-Vold: If you say so…
Dave: I do! I do!
Super-Vold: Oh well, in that case, why don't we get married, honey?
Dave: (suddenly bursting out passionately)Yes! Super-Vold, yes! The answer's yes! A thousand times, yes! Take me in your manly arms and de-robe this delicate, pouting virgin with your engorged passion! Take your enormous wand and skewer my fragile lilies! Hold your powerful hose aloft and soak this beautiful, precious ornament! Oh, Super-Vold, take me to some far off tropical island and fan me with your gigantic -
Super-Vold: -Err….right……okay; I'll take that as a yes then.
So Super-Vold and Dave leap onto the motor hoover and zoom off to get married and live on tropical islands and be fanned by Super-Vold's gigantic…..ahem! Yes, well, suffice it to say that they both live happily ever after.
Draco and Lucius return to the secret hideaway and start up what soon becomes a very successful leather company, (Buy Malfoy Leather! Quality leather clothes and accessories! No chafing guarantee! Money back if not completely satisfied, (unheard of!) - see in store for details.) So they're also living happily ever after. (Isn't this a nice happy ending? None of this angst-y lets-kill-off-all-the-characters-in-the-last-chapter thing.)
Peter sets up a mechanical business for repairing Motor hoovers. This doesn't get very far because Super-Vold owns the only Motor Hoover in the World, and his doesn't need repairing very often. Peter also tries setting up a Peter Fan Club, (join now and receive free sighed photos, pen, T-shirt, a book for recording the number of times you have spotted Peter and a year's free Motor Hoover servicing.) This doesn't really get off the ground either, because nobody joins. But Peter, too, is happy in his own little way. He finally decides that life as a human motor hoover mechanic and fan club co-ordinater is just too stressful, and becomes a full time, average, do-nothing, rat. He meets and marries another rat, and they have lots of ratty little babies. Ahhhhhhhh.
The ex- Super-Vold fan club have turned their attention to various other Superstars; Tom the weather man, (remember him?) has had a lovely time in heaven, because being up in heaven with all the little rain clouds and the snow clouds has made it much easier to forecast the weather. He has since gone down in history as the first weather man to forecast the weather, not only whilst dead, but also correctly, which is quite something. He is now living happily in retirement in Heaven with all the angels and God and a nice little packet of dominoes.
The various birds that attempted to help Super-Vold to find Tesco's are also living happily with all their nests and worms and things and - wait, we've forgotten somebody! Over there, sitting miserably alone and friendless and certainly not happy. This is not allowed. No body leaves the fic without living happily ever after! Who is it? Who has dared not to be happy? It's -oh, it's Geoffrey the miserable store manager. Bugger.
Oh well, I'm the only person left, (everyone else is busy living happily ever after,) so I'm afraid that I'm going to have to do one of those things where the author inserts herself into her own work for no better reason than the fact that she has no more characters left. Sorry. But it has to be done, and I'm not exactly looking forward to having to cheer up Geoffrey, either. Oh well, here goes…
Anna squares her shoulders and walks boldly up to Geoffrey who is now howling into a red, spotty handkerchief.
Anna: What the matter? Why aren't you living happily ever after?
Geoffrey is still sobbing loudly, but some words are vaguely recognisable. Here is our attempt at an accurate reconstruction. But we cannot however guarantee that this is exactly what he said. We may have been mistaken. We rather hope that we were.
Geoffrey: It's n-not fair! ::sob-sob, etc.:: D-Dave gets t-to marry Super-Vold, and………::deep breath::….…..Super-Vold's hosepipe is bigger than mine!
THE END
-of a most immoral fic. I'll probably get a very polite e-mail tomorrow asking me to remove it.
WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT TO SUPER-VOLD? WILL ANYTHING HAPPEN TO HIM? WILL ANNA EVER WRITE ANYTHING ABOUT HIM AGAIN?
Entire cast of Super-Vold and readers: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
UMMMMMMM, PROBABLY NOT THEN…….
Entire cast of Super-Vold and readers: Phew…….!
I AGREE. THINGS LOOKED WORRYING FOR A SECOND JUST THEN. ANYWAY, WILL SUPER VOLD AND DAVE REALLY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER? WHAT WAS THE GIGANTIC THING OF SUPER VOLD'S THAT DAVE WANTED TO BE FANNED WITH?
Entire cast of Super-Vold etc.: Noooooo! We don't want to know!
I DO!
Entire cast of blah-blah etc.: Ooooh! The voice-over guy has such a foul mind!
TEE-HEE. I KNOW. HAA-HAA! BET YOU NEVER THOUGHT A DEAD-PAN GUY LIKE ME COULD EVER THINK DIRTY, DID YOU? WELL YOU'RE WRONG. AND I'M RIGHT. I'M ALWAYS RIGHT. I'M VOICE-OVER GUY. AND I'M GONNA RULE THE WORLD! HAHAHAHAHA-
Anna: Oi! Control yourself!
AHEM. SORRY. GOT CARRIED AWAY.
Anna: We noticed.
ANYWAY, EVERYONE'S LIVING HAPPILY EVER AFTER. EXCEPT, OF COURSE FOR GEOFFREY…
Geoffrey: It will be bigger! One day it will be bigger!
IF YOU SAY SO. ANYWAY, THAT'S THE END OF OUR LITTLE TALE. ON BEHALF OF ANNA AND SUPER-VOLD I WOULD LIKE TO THANK THE 100 FANS FOR SCREAMING NICE AND LOUDLY, DAVE FOR MARRYING SUPER-VOLD, THE ASSORTED BIRDS FOR BEING NATURALLY STUPID, WHICH MADE WRITING THE SCRIPT VERY EASY, TOM FOR READING THE WEATHER AND BEING VERY CO-OPERATIVE ABOUT DYING, (WE DID EXPLAIN THAT IT WAS A CRUCIAL PART OF THE PLOT, ALTHOUGH I PERSONALLY THINK THAT THE STORY WOULD BE MUCH BETTER IF -
Anna: Hey!
OOPS.
Anna: Who's the boss?
YOU ARE.
Anna: Who wrote this?
YOU DID.
Anna: Who makes all the decisions?
YOU DO.
Anna: And who sits nice and quietly at the back and only does the voice-over bits at the end?
I DO.
Anna: That's right. Well, now that we've got that straight, lets get on with the credits.
OKAY MA'AM. I'D LIKE TO THANK LUCIUS AND DRACO FOR GIVING OUT SIGNED PHOTOS AND FOR STARTING UP THE MUCH APPRECIATED LEATHER BUSINESS. CHEERS GUYS - MY TROUSERS FIT LIKE A GLOVE, NOW THAT YOU'VE MADE THOSE ALTERATIONS. I'D ALSO LIKE TO THANK GOD FOR LENDING US THE USE OF HEAVEN FOR THE BIT WHERE TOM IS PLAYING DOMINOES AND FINALLY GETTING THE WEATHER RIGHT. I WOULD JUST LIKE TO ADD THAT GOD HAS BEEN READING THROUGH THE BIBLE SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER, AND HAS COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT HE DOES OWN HIMSELF.
FINALLY, I WOULD LIKE TO THANK SUPER-VOLD'S UNDERPANTS, FOR ALL THEY HAVE BEEN THROUGH. THIS SERIES WOULD NOT BE THE SAME WITHOUT THEM.
RIGHT, IS THAT IT? OH GREAT - I'M OFF TO HAVE A LIE DOWN.
A/N Having just read through this, I have come to the worrying conclusion that maybe this should be an R rating instead of PG13. It's a dirty fic!
A/N 2 Voice - Over Guy's bit is almost as long as the rest of the fic. It wasn't meant to be like that. Thanks for reading, and please review - ooh, before I forget, is anybody interested in beta-reading? Please leave your e-mail address if you are, and I'll try to reply. The amount of spelling mistakes in the last chapter has convinced me that I badly need a beta-reader! Should I write any more, by the way? Do you want Super-Vold three……….or should I just go and have the aformentioned lie-down?