Harry Potter Taken With a Dose of Strong Painkillers

*** not actually advised

A/N - Hello, and welcome to the depraved, cobwebbed depths of my mind. Do you like what I've done with the place? I think it's rather homey. Anyway, I have to get some necessities out of the way before we can press on...

(*)s indicate that I've taken a direct quote from J.K.R. her royal self. I utilised the few lines that the publishers revealed of HP and The Order of the Phoenix. I don't own the idea of Harry Potter or the world, all rights reserved to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Warner Bros. This is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and real persons is entirely coincidental... except in the case of Geraldo Rivera, Christina Agulira, John Lennon, George W. Bush, Mark Twain, and J. Lo. Yeah... except them.

So this story is now AU. The whole things was based upon my interpretation of the summer after Fourth Year and now it's useless. I considered adapting the whole thing so that it would take place after Fifth Year, but I decided that was just too much work. So I'm leaving it the way it is and you'll just have to deal with it. Pretend that OotP never happened (I know that's difficult).

A quick explanation of the title: besides (hopefully) catching your attention, the title has two other interpretations. I've warped the story SO much that I thought that it resembled what Harry Potter would appear like to a reader that had just overdosed on Perkoset (I have no idea how that's spelled). So, if you HAVE overdosed on Perkoset, you'll feel right at home here. The second meaning is a little more serious... sometimes I get to becoming a LITTLE too obsessed with Harry Potter and my shrink tells me that I need to take it a little lighter. So I wrote a parody (which I generally didn't used to approve of) in order to "kill the pain" and learn to laugh a little. You'll notice that if you read my other fics they're pretty depressing. So you see that I don't dislike Harry Potter at all. I'm not mocking it out of vindictiveness. Also, not all my motives are honourable. Humour fics get more reviews. Hint taken?

1 - Harry Potter (a.k.a. Clone #69)

The hottest day of the summer so far is drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lies over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. The only person left outside is a teenage boy who is lying flat on his back in a flowerbed outside number four. *

Harry Potter tries for a seventeenth time to catch that damned fly that is hovering over him, and again misses. He sits up, covered in pollen, and is promptly set upon by a swarm of killer bees. He steps out of the flattened flower bed, casually brushing off the angry insects as his skin swells into great, red blisters. "HA! I SPIT WITH DISDAIN IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION, PUNY BEES! YOU CANNOT HARM ME! I AM THE BOY WHO LIVED!" he bellows, striking a superhero pose and prancing madly through the yard.

"For plum pudding's SAKE! Shut the hell up, boy!" A cast iron frying pan catapults from a second story window and knocks out Harry.

A little old lady, smelling of cabbage and cats, scuttles over from an undisclosed location somewhere on the other street. Dudley (now weighing in at a metric ton) had duct taped her mouth shut and tied both hands into a permanent "flipping off" position a few days earlier and no one has bothered to release her. She gently bends over Harry and... boxes his ears. "Mwuf oofh eef."

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry mumbles, his eyes fluttering open. "ARE YOU FLIPPING ME OFF?" He sits up and sees the tape. "Um... ok."

Mrs. Figg stands and performs an elaborate charade, mumbling behind the tape the whole time. "Mwuf oofh eef! Mwuf oofh eef!" She turns in a circle, stands on her head, pokes herself in the eyes with her only available fingers, does the splits, and even starts with a strip tease before Harry stops her.

"WHAT IS IT GIRL? DUMBLEDORE'S COMING, YOU SAY?" He strikes another cheesy pose, his glasses hanging broken and twisted from one ear, his hair on end. "WAIT! HOW DO YOU KNOW DUMBLEDORE?! WHO WOULD EVER THINK TO SUSPECT THAT YOU COULD POSSIBLY BE A WITCH SENT TO BE MY GUARDIAN! Oh... that's pretty good. How stupid I've been..." Harry strikes the classic thinking pose.

"I said SHUT UP, dammit!" a toaster flies from the window and collides with Mrs. Figg's shin.

"Mwuf oofh eef!"

Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore appears with a flash of sparkly pink smoke next to Harry. "Oh... God. Wait a minute..." he sighs. The Headmaster disapparates and quickly reappears in a cloud of lightning-crossed blue smoke. "Tsk. That always happens..." He brushes fuchsia dust from his robes.

"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!" Harry cries. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Why are you covered in hives?"

"I HAVEN'T AN IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, PROFESSOR! I AM INVINCIBLE!"

"Why are you speaking in capital letters?"

"Er... doesn't it sound cool and heroic?"

"No. Great bouncing ferrets, Arabella! What kind of a gesture is THAT?"

"Mwuf oofh eef." She pulls some cheerleader moves, balances a golf ball on her nose, and smacks her own behind a few times.

"Oh, well in that case..."

The three stare at each other for a minute. Nothing happens. A light bulb flicks on over Dumbledore's head. "Oh right! Harry, this is urgent! Terribly urgent!"

"DO NOT FEAR, PROFESSOR! I WILL SAVE THE DAY A FIFTH TIME! IT'S PRACTICALLY TRADITION!"

Dumbledore gives him a quizzical look. "You DO know that you're not immortal or anything, right?"

"What?"

"Harry, I'm sorry. It is time for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything." *

Harry plops down into the grass. So does Mrs. Figg. Dumbledore looks exasperated. "Do you want to at least help me here?" he says to the old woman. She rolls her eyes, and gets up, imitating everything that the professor says in charade form.

"Harry... this is going to be hard for you to comprehend. Don't panic... You're not really the boy who lived. You're one of his defective clones. That's why you have this volume problem. The REAL Harry Potter is in a cryogenically frozen tube orbiting the planet Uranus."

"Harry" stares at Dumbledore. "BUT I'VE DEFEATED VOLDEMORT (hundreds of wizards all over Britain cringe and curl into the fetal position at the mention of his name) SO MANY TIMES. THAT CAN'T BE COINCIDENCE."

"Er... actually... Clone #37 defeated Voldemort in Harry's 1st Year, Clone #109 defeated Voldemort in Harry's 2nd Year, Clone #14 dealt with Wormtail in Harry's 3rd Year, and Geraldo Rivera defeated Voldemort in Harry's 4th Year. You're Clone #69. You're not worth a rat's ass to anyone."

"How did Geraldo Rivera pose as Harry Potter?" Clone #69 asks.

"Who knows? How does he pull off posing as Christina Agulira, John Lennon, and George W. Bush either?"

"JOHN LENNON'S DEAD."

"Oh right..."

"Mwuf oofh eef!" Mrs. Figg sobs. She impersonates a Chinese crane, pulls at her bluish tinged hair, and turns an awkward somersault.

"Good God, woman! You were John Lennon's lover?!" Dumbledore exclaims.

"Mwuf oofh eef!"

Clone #69 makes a face. Then a thought comes to him: "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST CALL GERALDO RIVERA AGAIN?"

Dumbledore ponders. "Oh yes, I remember! He's rather busy. Stranded in the middle of a dust storm in the middle of Iraq or something, last time I heard... said so in his last post card... Ah! But the point IS, 69, that we need to bring back the REAL Harry Potter from his orbit around Uranus before the Dark Lord succeeds in his plan to sink the entire island of Britain into a sea of chocolate pudding!"

"WHY CHOCOLATE PUDDING? WHY NOT PICKLE BRINE OR SOMETHING? PEOPLE LIKE CHOCOLATE PUDDING!" Clone #69 points out.

"Yes... I wonder... well! I always thought Tom was a little... off. That's not the point! Before we go to Uranus, we need to gather a fellowship to go on this quest! We must collect the most valuable wizards and witches from around the world to accompany us! Are you with me, 69?!" Dumbledore cries, striking his own heroic pose though it looks even more ridiculous on him.

"YES! BUT WHAT ABOUT SCHOOL? IT'S AUGUST... WE'LL MISS IT!"

"Screw Hogwarts!" Dumbledore screeches. "Come, Arabella! Come, 69! Onward!"

"Bloody Christ, will you SHUT UP down there!" An entire armoire is hurled out of the Dursleys' window and it knocks the 150-year-old Headmaster clear across the yard.

A/N - *insane evil laugh* Until next time! Please R&R!