Thank you all my reviewers, but pleeeease think of something - this goes
for everyone! Otherwise the randomness, and I'm warning you, WILL BE slow
to come!
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Hermione, having extricated herself from the tree, wandered around the forest with the squirrel dripping on her hair. After a few hours she realized that she was going round in circles, sat down very calmly on a tree root and began to scream and beat her fists on the ground. The squirrel, which had detangled itself from the Hair Of Doom and was watching from a safe vantage point, cynically observed that this was doing her little good. Hermione froze and carefully turned to look at the squirrel.
"Y-you can talk?" She whispered incredulously.]
"Oops. I didn't say that," the squirrel said guiltily, "and, and I didn't say that either, or that, or, or..... damn."
Hermione blinked at the squirrel. "Okay. I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Suddenly she dived and pinned the struggling squirrel to the ground. "Now tell me how to get out of here!" She hissed.
The squirrel squealed and turned into a random bunch of fossilized cream buns. "Hey," it squeaked, "I didn't say things had to make sense here. You'll probably drift out when the drug wears off."
It then disappeared with a pop and a shower of confetti.
Harry, meanwhile, was working feverishly to make cocktails for the large party of flamingoes. Not knowing anything at all about the art of cocktail making, he basically just dumped in large amounts of everything and gave it a swirl. On second thoughts, he added a little umbrella.
Ron sat there for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. Ambulances were crowded round the innocent Kings Cross bystander and the camel, 30,000 kilometers below. Ron, quite frankly, couldn't be stuffed. He REALLY wanted to get out of here. Now if he could only remember how...
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Hermione, having extricated herself from the tree, wandered around the forest with the squirrel dripping on her hair. After a few hours she realized that she was going round in circles, sat down very calmly on a tree root and began to scream and beat her fists on the ground. The squirrel, which had detangled itself from the Hair Of Doom and was watching from a safe vantage point, cynically observed that this was doing her little good. Hermione froze and carefully turned to look at the squirrel.
"Y-you can talk?" She whispered incredulously.]
"Oops. I didn't say that," the squirrel said guiltily, "and, and I didn't say that either, or that, or, or..... damn."
Hermione blinked at the squirrel. "Okay. I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Suddenly she dived and pinned the struggling squirrel to the ground. "Now tell me how to get out of here!" She hissed.
The squirrel squealed and turned into a random bunch of fossilized cream buns. "Hey," it squeaked, "I didn't say things had to make sense here. You'll probably drift out when the drug wears off."
It then disappeared with a pop and a shower of confetti.
Harry, meanwhile, was working feverishly to make cocktails for the large party of flamingoes. Not knowing anything at all about the art of cocktail making, he basically just dumped in large amounts of everything and gave it a swirl. On second thoughts, he added a little umbrella.
Ron sat there for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. Ambulances were crowded round the innocent Kings Cross bystander and the camel, 30,000 kilometers below. Ron, quite frankly, couldn't be stuffed. He REALLY wanted to get out of here. Now if he could only remember how...