Hello, all you happy people

Hello, all you happy people! I'm back again! Boo! Hiss! Get out of the fic! Oh, do shut up. Any hoo, this is sadly to be the last chapter of this story.

The audience begins singing. Hallelujah! Stop that. As I as saying before I was rudely interrupted, this is to be the last chap-… The audience interrupts the author again to sing. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Now, listen to me. You are going to stop that before I send every one of you to FanFic Character Heck! The audience quickly stops. Thank you. Now like I said, this is to be the last… The audience begins singing again. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halle-Lu-Jah! That is it!

The author begins to send them all to FanFic Character Heck, but then thinks about it, realizing there will be no one left to read the story. So, he settles for turning them into chickens. Buck-caw? Buck-caw!!! The newly transmogrified audience-turned-chickens begins to cluck loudly and panicking like, well, a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Now, if I change you back, do you promise to behave? The chicken audience nods vigorously and flaps their little white wings. Okay, then. He turns them back into regular characters. Now can I get on with this story? Yes. Yes. Yes. No. The one member of the audience that says no, his name is Jimmy Bob, is then transported to FanFic Character Heck. He meets up with Bob and Jimmy and they then begin to plot revenge on the author.

Alrighty then, now that that is settled, can I please get on with this? This is getting really, really long. The audience nods. Excellent. Now, where we last left our heroes and heroine… Hee hee. Heroin. Oh, do grow up. As I was saying, the group was outside of Dumbledore's office where Snape had just told Albus he was resigning. Also, Ron had just passed out with joy from hearing this. We now return to our regularly scheduled fanfic. (Firstly though, I'd just like to say that I would have gotten this out sooner, but I had an extreme case of writer's block.)

(Oh, yeah, Italics mean the audience, underlined means the author, bold means an action performed by the audience or author and this regular writing means the actual story. 'Kay?)

Harry Potter and the Badly Written Try at Humor

Disclaimer: I own not a single character in this fic. If I did own them, I would be swimming in a pool of money from all the licensed Harry Potter products. But I don't. Wish I did. But I don't. And the "Mahna-Mahna" skit belongs to the Muppet Show, which in turn belongs to the Jim Henson Co.

"Harry, oh my gosh, " Hermione gasped quietly, "did I hear right? Or are my ears failing me? Snape is going to be resigning?"

But Harry hadn't heard her. He was far too happy. He felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. But luckily he wasn't so giddy that he was giggling. That can cause brain damage. Just ask Parvarti and Lavender. No, he was just giddy enough not to hear Hermione.

"Ron, did you hear-" Hermione started, but stopped as she remembered that Ron was unconscious again. She sighed and rummaged through her pockets for her wand. It was in her hair. After discovering the aforementioned tool, she quickly woke up Ron.

"Oh," Ron moaned quietly as he sat up. "That is going to leave a serious mark. Why is it I am always getting knocked out?" He reached up to tentatively touch one of the many lumps now on his forehead.

"Just because," Harry stated. His giddiness had fortunately disappeared. "I'm the star of this whole phenomena." Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo! Shut up! He said "phenomena" not "Mahna-Mahna"! Doo-doo-doo-doo! Ugh! "And Hermione is the brain's of the operation. You're just the loyal-boy-hostage-side-kick." Please note the following: The author actually likes Ron's character. He just likes to pick on him. He shrugged. "It's not my fault. You were just written that way."

"Just watch," Ron muttered darkly. "One day, my fans will rise up, quell your fame, and then I'll have my own series of best-sellers. And how many times more am I going to be rendered unconscious in this story?" he asked the air in a normal voice. Oh, just a few more times. Like now for example. At that, a small anvil fell from the ceiling landing squarely on Ron's head. Hurray! He looked up at the ceiling and said plainly, "I hate you." I know. I love having a scapegoat. He then passed out on the shag carpeting of Dumbledore's office.

Harry, however, was completely oblivious to that last statement. He was instead staring at the ceiling. "Where in the heck did that anvil come from?" He tried to poke the roof with a nearby staff to see if there was a passage up there. It blew a hole in the ceiling. Harry quickly put it down.

"I didn't do it."

Hermione shrugged and was very calm amidst the plaster that was raining down around her, and said, "Simple, Harry. It's just a hole in the plot." She commenced in waking up Ron with an Enervating Charm. Boo.

Ron was awake, but slightly woozy. "I'll get you my pretty. And your little keyboard, too." He then promptly went back to sleep. Hermione sighed and asked, "Can we get another plot hole down here, please?"

The author reaches behind him and pulls out an Acme Plot HoleÔ and then throws it down to Hermione. "Thanks much," she said cheerfully. She proceeded to reach in, pull out a set of jumper cables and a car battery, and then hook up a plug to each of Ron's thumbs.

"Clear." She then put the other set of plugs to the battery for only a brief second. Which was long enough to send about 50 volts of electricity coursing though him. Ron sat up as fast as a cork popping out of a bottle. "Ay Chihuahua!" he yelled, his eyes bulging. He then sat back in one of the squashy armchairs to wait for his hair to stop smoking.

"There," Hermione said. "Now to get back to the main plot of this story." Harry looked at her, obviously confused and said, "This story has a plot?"

"Yes, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Anyway, how do we keep Snape from resigning?"

"We want to keep him from resigning?" Ron asked. He was rewarded with another anvil. Ron stayed conscious just long enough to say, "Ouchies." He then was sent back to La-La Land. Whoo-hoo! Ah, the magic of literature.

This surprised Harry and Hermione, but they continued as if it hadn't happened.

"Of course we don't want Snape to resign," she told the now prostrate Ron. "After all, it is your fault for coming up with the whole idea of a Love Draught," she added, trying to stir up some guilt. Ron just lay there. "If you and the other fifth-year Gryffindor's hadn't botched up the potion, then Snape wouldn't be resigning and in love with Fred Weasley." Ron still just lay there. "Ugh!" Hermione grunted and turned to start to yell at Harry, but her voice caught in her throat.

"What is it?" Harry asked her as she tried to sputter out a few words. She was pointing at him and trying to speak. "Out with it! Come on; just tell me what it is…" Harry stopped. "There's something really bad behind me isn't there?" he asked. Hermione nodded. Harry slowly turned to find him self nose-to-nose with a heavily breathing Professor Severus Snape.

Harry gasped, "Gasp!" Thank you. He slowly backed away, while Snape took menacing advances towards him. Soon, he found that his back was to Hermione, and he was out of room.

The audience loudly munches on popcorn. Hey! This is supposed to be a climactic scene! The author's words are drowned out by loud yells of, "Pass the Goobers!" Fine. The author pulls out his 2300 psi water hose and readies it. Excuse me. Could you keep it down? The audience quickly shuts up. Thank you.

Slowly Snape reached for his wand, his evil grin nearly breaking his face. In one swift move, he pulled out his wand, pointed it at Harry and yelled, "Boo!"

Harry fainted dead away. Hermione kicked him gently. "My hero," she grumbled with an eye roll.

Dumbledore quickly entered the room and saw the fainted Harry. "Now, Severus, did you really have to kill the boy? I was just starting to sort of like him."

"You know, when I think about it, I didn't like him that much," Hermione said thoughtfully. "It was always grumble, grumble, moan, moan, my parents are dead, must kill You-Know-Who."

Ron 'suddenly' woke up. "Ya know, I always did hate that little bugger. It was always 'Harry and Ron' when the Almighty J.K wrote it." He pointed at the ceiling. "But never 'Ron and Harry'. I was always the sidekick, like he said before."

Dumbledore smiled broadly. "Well, now that the twerp is dead. Shall we have some fun?" A great cheer arose and resounded through the halls of Hogwarts. The Egomaniac was dead!

Harry's eyes snap open and he shot up. "You idiots! I! Am Not! Dead!"

Snape pouted. "Darn it. I was this close." Well. I like it. But people would hurt me. So, let's rewind.

Snape snarled. "I haven't killed the little idiot but I may yet!" He raised his wand and yelled, "Enervate!" Hermione jumped back in fright as a jet of light shocked Harry into consciousness.

Harry blinked stupidly. How does one blink smartly? Shut up! "What where am I? I dreamed I had died and gone to He…" He screamed as he saw Snape looming over him. "Ahh! I'm still there!"

Snape rolled his beetle black eyes. "You aren't dead Potter. But you'll wish you were when I get through with you." Harry scooted back a little.

"Professor, can't you take a joke? We just wanted to pay back Gred and Forge Weasley and we didn't mean to go so far and please don't hurt us!" Harry cowered before Snape. Wait. The guy faces down Voldemort but he sobs at Snape's feet? Can you say OOC? The author nods. Yes, I can. OOC. Which is what this is.

Hermione poked Harry and pulled out her copy of the 'Harry Potter and the Badly Written Try at Humor' script. "Psst. Harry. Your line is 'We never meant to for this to go so far.' And with dignity!"

Harry straightened up. "Oh, yeah. The sobbing and cowering is from a slash fic I have later with Draco." The audience shudders. The author joins them. Ew. For once I am inclined to agree.

"We never meant for it to go this far. It was just a joke on Fred and George Weasley. Don't worry. We have a batch of the antidote ready. Right, Hermione?"

"Uh, no, Harry, we don't."

"What do you mean 'No'?!" Snape screeched.

"The author never wrote about us making an antidote. So it never happened," she said with a shrug.

Ron had by now waken up and was in a most unfortunate position. In other words, he was right between Snape and Harry. "Oh, dear. This is going to hurt."

Snape lunged at him and started choking him, ala Bart and Homer Simpson. "Why you little…!" Snape screamed has he tried to drain as much of the Potter child's life as he could. "You put me right!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore said sharply as he step in between the two. You behave yourselves this instant! Otherwise, I shall have to owl your parents!"

Harry and Snape just froze and blinked at Dumbledore, Snape's hands still entwined around Harry's neck. "Uh, sir, my parents are dead. By Voldemort, remember?"

The Headmaster thought about this for a second. "Oh, goodness me, you are right."

"That's right," a cold voice hissed behind them. They all whirled around to see the face of…President George W. Bush! Huh? I'm kidding. They all whirled around to see the face of Voldemort.

"Gasp in shock! What are you doing here?" Hermione said, her knees quivering. "Better yet, how did you get in here?"

Voldemort pulled out a small piece of paper and shrugs. "It's in my contract. I have to be in 99.9% of all stories." He quickly stuffed it back into his cloak. "And it's quite simple you foolish little girl. I Apparated into the castle."

Hermione let out a high pitched gasp. "But that's impossible! No one can Apparate within the walls of Hogwarts!"

The Dark Lord shrugged. "Your point being, loud and annoying girl?"

Hermione sputtered and glanced around. "It's impossible! There are all kinds of spells and enchantments and hexes and curses…"

Harry cut her off with, "What is the difference between a spell and an enchantment, anyhow? The Almighty JK never told us."

Everyone looked absolutely stumped at this intriguing enigma. Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"Harry Potter! Are you daft? Look! You-Know-Who is standing right there!" she screeched, pointing a finger at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He twiddled his long, spindly fingers at Hermione.

But the rest of them were still puzzling Harry's question. "Maybe a spell is used on an organic object and an enchantment on everything else," Ron said, using up most of his vocabulary words from years gone by.

Meanwhile, Dean, Seamus, and Neville enjoyed a cup of coffee with the large stone gargoyle.

"I don't think they're coming back," Seamus said, raising his cup to his lips.

"You're probably right. Good coffee though. Don't you think Large Stone Gargoyle?" Dean asked.

"Indubitably," the Gargoyle replied, a pince-nez attached to his large, cracked nose.

Neville had fallen asleep, his thumb stuck in his mouth; his coffee was apparently decaf.

Oh, dear god. This is long. Which means…there will be another chapter! NOOOO! Yes! Stay tuned for another chapter of…The Author's voice gets very loud Harry Potter and the Badly Written Try at Humor! The audience shrieks in horror, as the scene fades to black.