"Don't Let Him Out: A Farce"

A rant by; Adelphia Savanya Moore`

~inspired by John Cleese in "Fawlty Towers" (episode 10: The Anniversary)~

Rating: PG-13 (abuse of Mrs. Skower's, Parry Hwotter's foul mouth)

Written: Aug 16th, 2003

Summary: Exactly what the title sounds like .

Disclaimer: I do not own them in a box, I do not own them with a fox, I do not own them while I'm bowling, they all belong to (that evil) J.K. Rowling. I also don't own Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover (though I would be VERY POPULAR if I did . you'll get that later!), but I DO OWN the Convivial Hunting Horde, Fred's strainer, and the word "dollop" when used as a verb. The Madonna song was written by the wonderful people of "Chelsea's Cabaret" in Washington DC. Aluminum-foil hats originate from the goofy little kid in "Signs." (M. Night Shamalan, who also wrote the screen-play for STUART LITTLE . go figure! I guess everyone's gotta pay the bills)

I love the 80's .

Unlikely Alliances

Parry Hwotter dolloped on down the conga-line hall-a-way-a. (unaware
of the formation of the Convivial Hunting Horde)

Dollop, dollop-hiccup-dollop! He had a mango, and dolloped on over to the Sam-beer of Cheekawitts and snatch-a-minns the bwassalisk's skin-zie. (the head of which he now wore as a turban, rather lie Quirrel)

(AN: Think about it! Think really hard! . QUEER!!! . , isn't it?)

"Parry Hwotter" had been cooped up in his closet for over eight hours. He had found a bucket to piss in, but there was nothing to eat- nothing to drink . except, that is, Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover.

Dollop, dollop, chicken-hiccup-wing, dollop!

The conga-line cha-cha Cheetah Rivera corridor took on a reddish-purple tinge. Hueghy-dumpling SHIT!

A boy-ish voice was singing:

"Why's Madonna kissing Santa Clause?
She loves his team or reindeer and his whips!"

Hwotter jumped! Prune-dingo! Someone else had also drunk Mrs.
Skower's Magical Mess Remover, because Parry had the EXACT same song
caught in his head, too! He belted:

"She saw some mistletoe,
He told her 'No means no.'"

"She laid down in the snow," they sang slurredly together.
"And told him 'just say ho, ho, hoe .'"

They met in the middle of cha-ching stairway, and took hands:

"Why's Madonna ."

~ * ~ FOGHORN ~ * ~

"-ing Santa Clause?
Don't sweat it Santa Baby, that's your BIZ!
Poor Rudolph hurt his paw,
On Madonna's pointy bra! ."

Harry Potter and Peeves the Poltergeist proceeded to Polka down the
purple gingham steps.

~ * ~ * ~ Part B ~ * ~ * ~

Fred, George, Ron, and Lee, none of whom had downed two and a half quarts of Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover (well, in the past 48 to72 hours, anyway!), had just been joined by none other than Neville Longbottom, also Mrs. Skower's-free.

" . an' what is THAT on yeh head?" Lee finished his opening rant to Neville.

"It's an aluminum-foil hat," Neville said matter-of-factly. "So crazy Harry can't read my mind. You should be wearing one too, if you know what's good for you!"

"I'm god with this, thanks," said Fred, tapping his rusted strainer.

"Diddo, mate," said George, tipping his tupperware like a top hat.

"Take that ridiculous thing off yeh head!" Lee snapped at Neville.

"Why, though?" came an arrogant drawl. "I'm rather fond of it, actually."

All Weasley's whipped around. "MALFOY?!?"

"You know ." Malfoy smirked, "I love the sound of my own name, I must admit. However, " he sighed, "business before pleasure, I fear ."

"Yeah?" snarled Ron, raising his wand and eyebrows.

(the latter is more dangerous, I fear)

"I hear you hunt Potter this eve, gentlemen," Malfoy addressed Fred and George, who appeared to be the leaders of the Horde.

"Meah . true, true," Fred said, nodding curtly with each "true."

"Mind if I join?"

"Hold up a tick . we hate you, you hate us ." George spluttered.

"Why?" Fred demanded of Malfoy.

"These."

Malfoy pulled massive weapons, resembling Muggle firearms, that glowed faintly green and hummed softly.

"You're-you're in." George stammered, taking a "gun" in his hand.

"Welcome to The Convivial Hunting Horde!"

Malfoy took a cast iron frying pan to the head-Fred let out a squeal of glee.

A/N: More to come after I move up to school! Hope you like it! Please Review if you haven't already done so-suggestions are welcome! (well, anything is welcome, really .)