Okay, here's the second chapter. The first few are quite short, but as the pervertedness increases, so does the chapter length. But in the beginning we were going more for humor than the shock-factor.
Yes, it's OOC. It's supposed to be. One of our authors gets a little *coughs* carried away...especially when it comes to Oliver Wood. That's not until later, though.
Chapter 2: The Vanishing Ass
Harry awoke to Lil Mama banging on the door to his broom closet. He had just had a great dream about a flying pimpmobile with great hydraulics.
When he walked into the kitchen/dining room, he saw the green birthday cake and he remembered that it was his cousin Dudley's birthday.
"This time, you little twerp, don't burn the chitlins! I want Lil Daddy's birthday to be perfect!" shouted Aunt Petunia.
"Yes ma'am…" answered Harry.
"HOW MANY PRESENTS DO I GOT?" shouted Dudley.
"Thirty-six, I counted them myself," replied Uncle Vernon.
"THIRTY-SIX! LAST YEAR I GOT THIRTY-SEVEN!" hollered Dudley.
"Of course, and that's one more than last year, isn't it?" exclaimed his mother.
"Okay…well, I guess that's right, then," replied Dudley.
Uncle Vernon, finished with his Corn Flakes, asked, "Hey, Lil Daddy, you ready to go to the strip club on your birthday trip?"
"Oh yes, Big Daddy. Lil Mama, will your friends give me another lap dance this year?" Dudley asked as the phone rang.
"Yes, sweetums," Aunt Petunia said, walking over to the phone. Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap several gifts (including a genuine Polex wristwatch) before Aunt Petunia came back.
"That was Miz Figg. She can't take the little monster today."
"Don't tell me that thing has to come with me!" whined Dudley.
"You can let me stay at home, you know," put in Harry.
He hoped that with all the privacy he would be able to eat all he wanted and have a go with Dudley's female dancers.
"We're not leaving you alone in this apartment!" shouted Uncle Vernon.
Harry knew why. Sometimes, things happened around Harry--weird things. He was once being chased by Dudley's gang, and just as they were about to catch him, two of them dropped dead from gunshot wounds. Harry didn't even have a gun, and there were no rival gangs nearby. Also, Aunt Petunia had once given him a tattoo on his forehead to cover up the lightning bolt scar that said, "Size Doesn't Matter." He was so scared to go to school the next day, but when he woke up, it was gone.
So, Dudley's friend arrived. His name was Piers Poledancer. They all loaded up into the car and headed off for a London strip club.
"This is boring!" shouted Dudley. "Do something!"
"Here, let me spice things up, said Mr. Dursley, slipping a stripper a fifty dollar bill. Then the stripper started to give Harry a lap dance, unaware that Mr. Dursley had paid for Dudley. Just then Dudley punched Harry in the stomach and knocked him out of the way. Harry was very mad that he couldn't have his lap dance; suddenly, the stripper screamed.
"AHHH! MY BUTT! IT DISAPPEARED!"
The whole strip club went into an uproar.
Later, as the stripper was rushed to the hospital, the strip club owner was making Aunt Petunia a strong cup of Irish coffee when Piers calmed down enough to say, "Harry was talking to her just before the 'accident', weren't you?"
Harry was told to go to his closet when they returned home. The Dursleys were furious.
He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that freak jerry-curl accident.
Harry could remember always wishing that some unknown relation would come rescue him from the Dursleys. People on the street seemed to know him. One time, when Aunt Petunia had taken him and Dudley to shop on the black market, a strange man wearing an animal print thong had bowed to him.