What Is A "WWW" Anyways?
by Joella Martin
When I first sat down to write this piece I was admittedly afriad of my subject. You see I had heard of this vadal's crimes for many years, and had even laughed at some of them. But, when the young man strode into the room, smiled, and offered me some free jokes from his shop, I couldn't find the fear anymore. Maybe it was his rogueish smile that suggested this man of two and twenty was much younger at heart, but it could have also been his shockingly red hair sticking in all directions over his head that made him seem laid back and friendly.
Mr. Fred Weasley is the co-owner of a chain of joke shops, his partner in crime is his twin brother George. When I asked casually why his twin did not come as well, he shrugged and said something about how reporters intimidated him. I found this hard to believe, the proof of the matter relates otherwise. Both boys attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and from what I've heard (and witnessed) the duo reveled in the limelight.
It's no joke to say that these boys are truly living their childhood dream. They currently run "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," (WWW) a household name for prankers and silly children alike. There are four locations and a mail-order catalogue. The locations include the usual places such as, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, yet there is also a location in the wizarding community of Barcelona, Spain.
JM: Why Barcelona Mr. Weasley?
FW: Mr. Weasley is my father, please call me Fred.
JM: Okay, Fred. Why Barcelona?
FW: Well, aside from there being a fairly large wizarding school there, it's a good excuse for a vacation.
JM: Vacation? How so?
FW: (laughs) Well, you see I can say, "George, I'm going to check on the shop in Barcelona." Then, I go down to Barcelona, spend a day checking in, and spend the rest of the time thoroughly enjoying myself. In fact, I did that last month, and I took my wife with me. There are advantages to this sort of business.
Mr. Weasley has been married two years to Margo Cook, now Weasley, and their expecting their first child at the start of next year.
JM: Your wife? If it's not too personal, how did you meet her?
FW: (laughs) Too personal? No, I wouldn't think so. When I joined the International League of Spectacle Quiddtich (ILSQ) we were beaters for the same team, the Camden Cuffers.
The ILSQ is a Quidditch league that has turned the high action game into a theatrical event. The teams concentrate mostly on showy moves and splendid team formations. It's been said that this league is taking all the good points of Quidditch and combining it with just plain silliness.
JM: Do you remember any... (pauses in thought)... certain events with her in the games?
FW: (laughs) If anything happened, it happened in practice. I would hit something wrong and she'd blow up. It was funny, her ears always went this funny pink color. She's a perfectionist, but that's one of her qualities. But aren't I taking time out of the shop to talk about it?
JM: Yes, quite right. What sort of jokes to do you carry in your shop? They aren't. dare I classify them this way, dangerous?
FW: (laughs) Dangerous? Depends. There are certain rules you shouldn't break when doing any prank, large or small, but for the most part the "jokes", as you call them, are harmless... though a mite bit scary at some moments.
JM: Scary?
FW: Yes, for instance the gum that if you swallow it you'll whistle whenever you try to talk. No one should really swallow gum in the first place, so at first it could unsettling that you're whistling instead of speaking correctly.
JM: Oh my. (looks at her pile of free examples) Is there any of that in there?
FW: (laughs) No, you've got to buy that personally.
JM: I feel relieved. Anything big happening in WWW in the near future?
FW: George and I have been scouting out new locations. There are a few places we'd like to place a WWW.
JM: Anymore like Barcelona?
FW: One, yes. The others are pure profit gain.
JM: Thank you Mr. Weasley- I mean Fred for coming in.
FW: Pleasure's all mine.
Margo blinked again as large tears fell from her eyes. She wiped her deep brown eyes and shook her long dark hair out of her face. She flipped over the interview and placed spell-o-tape on each of the exposed foru corners. She delicately placed the clipping onto the wall, along side Quidditch posters and programs. Margo sat back down on the overstuffed couch and admired her handywork. Then, burst into tears. Her emotions were strung all over the place and she could barely make sense of what she should do next. She couldn't return to South Africa, any conection she had ever had had long since disclaimed her or died. The young woman of four and twenty pulled a cushion to her face and drowned out her loud racking sobs. If she kept on like this she would wake Andy, her bouncing two year old. He held no clue as to what had been happening the past few days. He merely basked in the attention of the family and friends and clung to his mother. Margo soon stopped crying, her tears had long been spent and she was only heaving dry sobs.
There was a scratching at her window, she looked up to see an owl. Quickly Margo glided to the window and slid the ratty letter from it's leg. Margo ripped it open and read,
"Dear Daughter,
It would make me feel so much better if you would come stay with me for a few weeks.
-Molly"
Margo sniffled and ran a hand through her wild hair. She crumpled up the letter in her fist and set about to packing.
by Joella Martin
When I first sat down to write this piece I was admittedly afriad of my subject. You see I had heard of this vadal's crimes for many years, and had even laughed at some of them. But, when the young man strode into the room, smiled, and offered me some free jokes from his shop, I couldn't find the fear anymore. Maybe it was his rogueish smile that suggested this man of two and twenty was much younger at heart, but it could have also been his shockingly red hair sticking in all directions over his head that made him seem laid back and friendly.
Mr. Fred Weasley is the co-owner of a chain of joke shops, his partner in crime is his twin brother George. When I asked casually why his twin did not come as well, he shrugged and said something about how reporters intimidated him. I found this hard to believe, the proof of the matter relates otherwise. Both boys attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and from what I've heard (and witnessed) the duo reveled in the limelight.
It's no joke to say that these boys are truly living their childhood dream. They currently run "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," (WWW) a household name for prankers and silly children alike. There are four locations and a mail-order catalogue. The locations include the usual places such as, Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, yet there is also a location in the wizarding community of Barcelona, Spain.
JM: Why Barcelona Mr. Weasley?
FW: Mr. Weasley is my father, please call me Fred.
JM: Okay, Fred. Why Barcelona?
FW: Well, aside from there being a fairly large wizarding school there, it's a good excuse for a vacation.
JM: Vacation? How so?
FW: (laughs) Well, you see I can say, "George, I'm going to check on the shop in Barcelona." Then, I go down to Barcelona, spend a day checking in, and spend the rest of the time thoroughly enjoying myself. In fact, I did that last month, and I took my wife with me. There are advantages to this sort of business.
Mr. Weasley has been married two years to Margo Cook, now Weasley, and their expecting their first child at the start of next year.
JM: Your wife? If it's not too personal, how did you meet her?
FW: (laughs) Too personal? No, I wouldn't think so. When I joined the International League of Spectacle Quiddtich (ILSQ) we were beaters for the same team, the Camden Cuffers.
The ILSQ is a Quidditch league that has turned the high action game into a theatrical event. The teams concentrate mostly on showy moves and splendid team formations. It's been said that this league is taking all the good points of Quidditch and combining it with just plain silliness.
JM: Do you remember any... (pauses in thought)... certain events with her in the games?
FW: (laughs) If anything happened, it happened in practice. I would hit something wrong and she'd blow up. It was funny, her ears always went this funny pink color. She's a perfectionist, but that's one of her qualities. But aren't I taking time out of the shop to talk about it?
JM: Yes, quite right. What sort of jokes to do you carry in your shop? They aren't. dare I classify them this way, dangerous?
FW: (laughs) Dangerous? Depends. There are certain rules you shouldn't break when doing any prank, large or small, but for the most part the "jokes", as you call them, are harmless... though a mite bit scary at some moments.
JM: Scary?
FW: Yes, for instance the gum that if you swallow it you'll whistle whenever you try to talk. No one should really swallow gum in the first place, so at first it could unsettling that you're whistling instead of speaking correctly.
JM: Oh my. (looks at her pile of free examples) Is there any of that in there?
FW: (laughs) No, you've got to buy that personally.
JM: I feel relieved. Anything big happening in WWW in the near future?
FW: George and I have been scouting out new locations. There are a few places we'd like to place a WWW.
JM: Anymore like Barcelona?
FW: One, yes. The others are pure profit gain.
JM: Thank you Mr. Weasley- I mean Fred for coming in.
FW: Pleasure's all mine.
Margo blinked again as large tears fell from her eyes. She wiped her deep brown eyes and shook her long dark hair out of her face. She flipped over the interview and placed spell-o-tape on each of the exposed foru corners. She delicately placed the clipping onto the wall, along side Quidditch posters and programs. Margo sat back down on the overstuffed couch and admired her handywork. Then, burst into tears. Her emotions were strung all over the place and she could barely make sense of what she should do next. She couldn't return to South Africa, any conection she had ever had had long since disclaimed her or died. The young woman of four and twenty pulled a cushion to her face and drowned out her loud racking sobs. If she kept on like this she would wake Andy, her bouncing two year old. He held no clue as to what had been happening the past few days. He merely basked in the attention of the family and friends and clung to his mother. Margo soon stopped crying, her tears had long been spent and she was only heaving dry sobs.
There was a scratching at her window, she looked up to see an owl. Quickly Margo glided to the window and slid the ratty letter from it's leg. Margo ripped it open and read,
"Dear Daughter,
It would make me feel so much better if you would come stay with me for a few weeks.
-Molly"
Margo sniffled and ran a hand through her wild hair. She crumpled up the letter in her fist and set about to packing.