A/N-I sincerely apologize for this, but I simply MUST parody
songfics. If you hate them (as I do. . .well most of them anyhow), then
you may enjoy this. . .or you may not. I wouldn't know, as I'm not you.
If you love songfics, maybe you don't want to read this either. But why
don't you give it a try?
And Arthur began to sing: "If I were a rich man, eidle-dee-del-deidle- deedle-deidle-deedle-deidle-dum, All day long I'd pitty-pitty-pum! If I were a wealthy man!. . ."
His coworkers looked at him a little strangely and began to throw minty- smelling, pink staplers at him. Because staplers are fun.
Harry entered into a psychotherapy class where he had to relive the past. Relive, and let go. . .
Meanwhile, a small group of rebel cabbages had grown under the school and the stone floors of the great hall began to push upwards until, finally, they pushed through. Immediately, all the Hogwarts students broke into song (to the tune of "Savages" from Pocahontas. (What IS it with the Disney references around this place?) If you don't know it, too bad, you will get over it): Dumbledore
What can you expect
From filthy little heathens?
Their whole disgusting race is like a curse
Their skin's a hellish red
They're only good when dead
They're vermin, as I said
And worse Students:
They're cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Barely even human Staff
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Drive them from our floor!
They're not like you and me
Which means they must be evil
We must boil the pot of war! Sudents + Staff
They're cabbages! Cabbages!
Dirty redskin devils!
Now we boil the pot of war! Cabbage Leader
This is what we feared
The wizard is a demon
The only thing they feel at all is greed Cabbage That's One-Step Below The Leader
Beneath that milky hide
There's emptiness inside Cabbages
I wonder if they even bleed
We're cabbages! Cabbages!
Quite alive and human
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Killers at the core McGonagall
They're more edible than us
Which means they can't be trusted Ron
We must boil the pot of war! Cabbages
They're savages! Savages!
They are gonna eat us! All
Then we boil the pot of war Students
Savages! Savages! Harry
Let's go eat a few, men! Cabbages
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Now it's up to you, men! All
Cabbages! Cabbages!
Barely even human!
Now we boil the pot of war!
There was much warfare and violence. One cabbage wounded Harry near- fatally (cue sappy-crappy music) Ginny runs to him and fights off a few cabbages before flinging herself on top of him.
"Uh. . .Ginny?" Harry wheezed, "It's hard to breath with you on top of my chest. How'm I supposed to get enough breath support to sing this slow, sad, unimpressive, and very fitting (with a few words changed here and there) love song the Merciless Author's got undoubtedly prepared for us?"
"Oh. . .sorry," she said, "Then she looked deep into his jade-emerald- forest eyes, and the passion of her second year was quickly rekindled. Unfortunately, his contact fell out and ruined the moment. Ginny refused to sing without a 20% raise, so we will go now to the eighteenth-floor boys bathroom.
There Draco Malfoy sits in deep contemplation. He knows, suddenly, that he is in love with Harry. The sensation had been there for a long time (since yesterday morning when he had indigestion) but only now did he acknowledge it. (If you look closely, you will see little birds and stars and snake staffs circling his head, indicating he had very recently hit his head on a toilet seat).
With that, he opened his mouth and sang with a voice as lovely as a thousand snails on a midsummer night's eve:
Why Can't I? [Because I Have Asthma]
By Liz Phair-or was it Fair?
Get a load of me, get a load of you
Walkin' down the hall, and I hardly know you
It's just like we were meant to be
Holding hands with you, and we're out at night
Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right
And I've got Pansy waiting too
This is, this is just the beginning
We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Isn't this the best part of breakin' up
Finding someone else you can't get enough of
Someone who wants to be with you too
It's an itch we know we are gonna scratch
Gonna take a while for this egg to hatch
But wouldn't it be beautiful
Here we are, we're at the beginning
We haven't f***** yet, but heads spinning
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
I'd love for you to make me wonder
Where it's goin'
I'd love for you to pull me under
Somethin's growin'
for this that we can control
Baby I am dyin'
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Then Dumbledore walked out of the nearest stall and said very loudly, "You've held hands with HARRY? Ew, ew, yucky! Yucky slash, YUCKY! And you want him to pull you. . .under? EEEEEEW! I AM, LIKE, SOOOOOO GONNA PUKE ALL OVER MY NICE ROBES!" Then he walked out very serenely, pausing every few moments to say something profound and wise, because that is what Dumbledores must do.
Then Lucius Malfoy of the Large Snake Staff walked out of the second-to- closest stall.
"What's this I hear about you being in love with HARRY POTTER?" he sneered (no, he did not speak a word, he just SNEERED it all), "I will not tolerate any homosexual behavior in my household, young laddy-old-chap!"
"Laddy-old-chap?" asked Draco, but before he heard the answer, he entered into The State of Deep Depression. (Cue angsty music from some druggie punk rocker you've never heard of who shot themselves after they wrote and recorded the song).
These songfics are giving me an allergic reaction. I must stop them now. Seriously, my hair is knotting and my pinky is spazzing out. It does that sometimes. . .
BUUUURN THEM [sonfics, not pinky fingers]! BUUUUUUUUUUURN THEM!!!
A/N-If you actually read this chapter I send you hugs, kisses, and a warning that parodies may corrupt your lovely little mind. I would also like to note that I am certainly losing my hilariosity (if I ever had any to begin with). Forgive me, please, and I will try to replenish it. Good day!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Fiddler on the Roof or that other song, what was it?. . . oh yeah, "Why Can't I?" by Whatsername (I actually like that song. It's catchy). I do, however, OWN POCAHONTAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. . .hehe. . .why are there strange men flying above me in circles like vultures?. . .HELP! I DON'T own Pocahontas, I DON'T, I swear it! It was just a JOKE. . .
And Arthur began to sing: "If I were a rich man, eidle-dee-del-deidle- deedle-deidle-deedle-deidle-dum, All day long I'd pitty-pitty-pum! If I were a wealthy man!. . ."
His coworkers looked at him a little strangely and began to throw minty- smelling, pink staplers at him. Because staplers are fun.
Harry entered into a psychotherapy class where he had to relive the past. Relive, and let go. . .
Meanwhile, a small group of rebel cabbages had grown under the school and the stone floors of the great hall began to push upwards until, finally, they pushed through. Immediately, all the Hogwarts students broke into song (to the tune of "Savages" from Pocahontas. (What IS it with the Disney references around this place?) If you don't know it, too bad, you will get over it): Dumbledore
What can you expect
From filthy little heathens?
Their whole disgusting race is like a curse
Their skin's a hellish red
They're only good when dead
They're vermin, as I said
And worse Students:
They're cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Barely even human Staff
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Drive them from our floor!
They're not like you and me
Which means they must be evil
We must boil the pot of war! Sudents + Staff
They're cabbages! Cabbages!
Dirty redskin devils!
Now we boil the pot of war! Cabbage Leader
This is what we feared
The wizard is a demon
The only thing they feel at all is greed Cabbage That's One-Step Below The Leader
Beneath that milky hide
There's emptiness inside Cabbages
I wonder if they even bleed
We're cabbages! Cabbages!
Quite alive and human
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Killers at the core McGonagall
They're more edible than us
Which means they can't be trusted Ron
We must boil the pot of war! Cabbages
They're savages! Savages!
They are gonna eat us! All
Then we boil the pot of war Students
Savages! Savages! Harry
Let's go eat a few, men! Cabbages
Cabbages! Cabbages! Dumbledore
Now it's up to you, men! All
Cabbages! Cabbages!
Barely even human!
Now we boil the pot of war!
There was much warfare and violence. One cabbage wounded Harry near- fatally (cue sappy-crappy music) Ginny runs to him and fights off a few cabbages before flinging herself on top of him.
"Uh. . .Ginny?" Harry wheezed, "It's hard to breath with you on top of my chest. How'm I supposed to get enough breath support to sing this slow, sad, unimpressive, and very fitting (with a few words changed here and there) love song the Merciless Author's got undoubtedly prepared for us?"
"Oh. . .sorry," she said, "Then she looked deep into his jade-emerald- forest eyes, and the passion of her second year was quickly rekindled. Unfortunately, his contact fell out and ruined the moment. Ginny refused to sing without a 20% raise, so we will go now to the eighteenth-floor boys bathroom.
There Draco Malfoy sits in deep contemplation. He knows, suddenly, that he is in love with Harry. The sensation had been there for a long time (since yesterday morning when he had indigestion) but only now did he acknowledge it. (If you look closely, you will see little birds and stars and snake staffs circling his head, indicating he had very recently hit his head on a toilet seat).
With that, he opened his mouth and sang with a voice as lovely as a thousand snails on a midsummer night's eve:
Why Can't I? [Because I Have Asthma]
By Liz Phair-or was it Fair?
Get a load of me, get a load of you
Walkin' down the hall, and I hardly know you
It's just like we were meant to be
Holding hands with you, and we're out at night
Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right
And I've got Pansy waiting too
This is, this is just the beginning
We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Isn't this the best part of breakin' up
Finding someone else you can't get enough of
Someone who wants to be with you too
It's an itch we know we are gonna scratch
Gonna take a while for this egg to hatch
But wouldn't it be beautiful
Here we are, we're at the beginning
We haven't f***** yet, but heads spinning
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
I'd love for you to make me wonder
Where it's goin'
I'd love for you to pull me under
Somethin's growin'
for this that we can control
Baby I am dyin'
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Then Dumbledore walked out of the nearest stall and said very loudly, "You've held hands with HARRY? Ew, ew, yucky! Yucky slash, YUCKY! And you want him to pull you. . .under? EEEEEEW! I AM, LIKE, SOOOOOO GONNA PUKE ALL OVER MY NICE ROBES!" Then he walked out very serenely, pausing every few moments to say something profound and wise, because that is what Dumbledores must do.
Then Lucius Malfoy of the Large Snake Staff walked out of the second-to- closest stall.
"What's this I hear about you being in love with HARRY POTTER?" he sneered (no, he did not speak a word, he just SNEERED it all), "I will not tolerate any homosexual behavior in my household, young laddy-old-chap!"
"Laddy-old-chap?" asked Draco, but before he heard the answer, he entered into The State of Deep Depression. (Cue angsty music from some druggie punk rocker you've never heard of who shot themselves after they wrote and recorded the song).
These songfics are giving me an allergic reaction. I must stop them now. Seriously, my hair is knotting and my pinky is spazzing out. It does that sometimes. . .
BUUUURN THEM [sonfics, not pinky fingers]! BUUUUUUUUUUURN THEM!!!
A/N-If you actually read this chapter I send you hugs, kisses, and a warning that parodies may corrupt your lovely little mind. I would also like to note that I am certainly losing my hilariosity (if I ever had any to begin with). Forgive me, please, and I will try to replenish it. Good day!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Fiddler on the Roof or that other song, what was it?. . . oh yeah, "Why Can't I?" by Whatsername (I actually like that song. It's catchy). I do, however, OWN POCAHONTAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. . .hehe. . .why are there strange men flying above me in circles like vultures?. . .HELP! I DON'T own Pocahontas, I DON'T, I swear it! It was just a JOKE. . .