AN: Yay for Mr. Authordude!
And I though the nickname 'Will Shakesie' was evidence enough of who the man was.
Ah, well...
...
Chapter Two: The Stray Danish... and unintentional emphasis on pastries, once again
...
Ron came skipping up the street like the pansy we all know he is.
"La la la..."
"How pansy-like of you!" Harry exclaimed.
"Let's be pansies together!"
So Ron and Harry skipped along, arms linked as Sirius led them to the donut shop.
Upon entering the donut shop, both boy wizards realized that the owner of the donut shop was very very scary-looking.
"Um, Mr. Donut Man?" Ron asked.
Mr. Donut man growled.
"Can we have a donut?"
"Hey, I want one, too!" Ron yelled.
"Fine. Mister?"
Donut man barked.
"That's my job, that is!" cried Sirius indignantly.
"Well I don't care!" the donut man bellowed.
Harry squeaked. "How ominous of you Mr. Donut M – "
"I am Lord Voldemort... looking for a day job and hidden in this very clever disguise!"
Ron scratched his head. "I suppose the disguise is pretty useless now, eh?"
The evil donut man swore under his breath. "Can we try that again?"
Before Ron, Harry, or Sirius could answer, they were being pushed out the door. After a few moments of confused silence and mild toleration of Harry's jubilant symphony of stomach growling, they heard a muffled voice from inside calling them.
"Customers? Feel free to come in!"
Harry blinked at Ron, who sneezed.
"It's alright! I'm just a nice little donut man selling very cheap pastries that have become stale over the years, but melt nicely in your mouth if you wait long enough!"
"But I thought he said – "
"Get in!"
Half a dozen death eaters shoved them back inside. There was a collective "ow".
"Hello, my loyal clients."
"But I've never been here before – "
"Silence!"
Harry gulped.
Ron whimpered. "Can I go now?"
"No. We'll be friendly and talk like civilized people and become suddenly distracted by some random thing I have implanted into the scene for the sheer purpose of leeway for sneaking behind Harry and killing him."
"Shall we go outside again and start over?" Ron proposed placidly.
Harry smacked him for being such an idiot.
Sirius led the way back out of and into the donut shop.
"How are you this fine day, wonderful citizens of Great Britain?"
"Say," Sirius said. "Where'd you get that danish?"
"What danish?" the donut-selling Dark Wizard asked.
Sirius indicated the pastry in question while Harry and Ron started playing patty-cake.
"Oh," Voldemort said. "Er... I found it. On the ground."
"You expect me to buy that?" Ron asked. "Ew."
"But danishes are Danish!" Sirius exclaimed. "Don't they come from Denmark?"
"Are you suggesting that danishes migrate?" the donut man asked.
"No," Sirius said, laughing thoughtfully. "That's absurd... Or is it?"
The malevolent baker waved his hand at one of his death eaters. "Nott. You take over."
The death eater adorned himself with a nifty pink apron, and began stroking his chin pensively. "Suppose a swallow... carried the Danish while migrating?"
"African or European?" Ron asked on impulse (don't we all?).
"Why would an African swallow be in Europe?" Harry asked, losing once again in tic-tac-toe.
"A swallow can't carry a Danish!" Sirius cried.
"Sure they can!"
"Not a cream-filled one..."
"Now, have you ever seen a cream-filled danish?"
"Have you ever been to Denmark?"
"Yes, once, after being nominated Death Eater of the year."
"Oh, how lovely!"
So, while the two wizards conversed, Voldemort snuck up behind Harry while he wasn't expecting.
"Boo."
"Ah!"
"Danish?" Ron asked through his full mouth.
"Did you pay for that?" Voldemort asked warily.
"No."
"No? I'll lose my job if there are missing pastries!"
Ron discarded the danish, and Harry sent a random hex in the donut man's general direction.
"Run away!" they yelled.
"If you don't mind," Sirius said. "I am having a highly intelligent conversation and/or reckless argument with – wahhh!"
And so the three of them ran away, as was previously proposed.
"A quest!" King Arthur proclaimed, brandishing his sword – a movement that nearly took the head off an old woman with no teeth and a partial wig. "We shall continue this haphazard plot in a similarly disorganized way while randomly sputtering spontaneous words that don't exist!"
And thus, the author got bored with the chapter and ended it abruptly.
...
Maybe one more chapter, no? I dunno... I'm currently co-working on my more pastry oriented fic. Too bad I can't put links in chapters. It's on my profile.
And I promise I'll introduce you all to the saucy lobster!
And I though the nickname 'Will Shakesie' was evidence enough of who the man was.
Ah, well...
...
Chapter Two: The Stray Danish... and unintentional emphasis on pastries, once again
...
Ron came skipping up the street like the pansy we all know he is.
"La la la..."
"How pansy-like of you!" Harry exclaimed.
"Let's be pansies together!"
So Ron and Harry skipped along, arms linked as Sirius led them to the donut shop.
Upon entering the donut shop, both boy wizards realized that the owner of the donut shop was very very scary-looking.
"Um, Mr. Donut Man?" Ron asked.
Mr. Donut man growled.
"Can we have a donut?"
"Hey, I want one, too!" Ron yelled.
"Fine. Mister?"
Donut man barked.
"That's my job, that is!" cried Sirius indignantly.
"Well I don't care!" the donut man bellowed.
Harry squeaked. "How ominous of you Mr. Donut M – "
"I am Lord Voldemort... looking for a day job and hidden in this very clever disguise!"
Ron scratched his head. "I suppose the disguise is pretty useless now, eh?"
The evil donut man swore under his breath. "Can we try that again?"
Before Ron, Harry, or Sirius could answer, they were being pushed out the door. After a few moments of confused silence and mild toleration of Harry's jubilant symphony of stomach growling, they heard a muffled voice from inside calling them.
"Customers? Feel free to come in!"
Harry blinked at Ron, who sneezed.
"It's alright! I'm just a nice little donut man selling very cheap pastries that have become stale over the years, but melt nicely in your mouth if you wait long enough!"
"But I thought he said – "
"Get in!"
Half a dozen death eaters shoved them back inside. There was a collective "ow".
"Hello, my loyal clients."
"But I've never been here before – "
"Silence!"
Harry gulped.
Ron whimpered. "Can I go now?"
"No. We'll be friendly and talk like civilized people and become suddenly distracted by some random thing I have implanted into the scene for the sheer purpose of leeway for sneaking behind Harry and killing him."
"Shall we go outside again and start over?" Ron proposed placidly.
Harry smacked him for being such an idiot.
Sirius led the way back out of and into the donut shop.
"How are you this fine day, wonderful citizens of Great Britain?"
"Say," Sirius said. "Where'd you get that danish?"
"What danish?" the donut-selling Dark Wizard asked.
Sirius indicated the pastry in question while Harry and Ron started playing patty-cake.
"Oh," Voldemort said. "Er... I found it. On the ground."
"You expect me to buy that?" Ron asked. "Ew."
"But danishes are Danish!" Sirius exclaimed. "Don't they come from Denmark?"
"Are you suggesting that danishes migrate?" the donut man asked.
"No," Sirius said, laughing thoughtfully. "That's absurd... Or is it?"
The malevolent baker waved his hand at one of his death eaters. "Nott. You take over."
The death eater adorned himself with a nifty pink apron, and began stroking his chin pensively. "Suppose a swallow... carried the Danish while migrating?"
"African or European?" Ron asked on impulse (don't we all?).
"Why would an African swallow be in Europe?" Harry asked, losing once again in tic-tac-toe.
"A swallow can't carry a Danish!" Sirius cried.
"Sure they can!"
"Not a cream-filled one..."
"Now, have you ever seen a cream-filled danish?"
"Have you ever been to Denmark?"
"Yes, once, after being nominated Death Eater of the year."
"Oh, how lovely!"
So, while the two wizards conversed, Voldemort snuck up behind Harry while he wasn't expecting.
"Boo."
"Ah!"
"Danish?" Ron asked through his full mouth.
"Did you pay for that?" Voldemort asked warily.
"No."
"No? I'll lose my job if there are missing pastries!"
Ron discarded the danish, and Harry sent a random hex in the donut man's general direction.
"Run away!" they yelled.
"If you don't mind," Sirius said. "I am having a highly intelligent conversation and/or reckless argument with – wahhh!"
And so the three of them ran away, as was previously proposed.
"A quest!" King Arthur proclaimed, brandishing his sword – a movement that nearly took the head off an old woman with no teeth and a partial wig. "We shall continue this haphazard plot in a similarly disorganized way while randomly sputtering spontaneous words that don't exist!"
And thus, the author got bored with the chapter and ended it abruptly.
...
Maybe one more chapter, no? I dunno... I'm currently co-working on my more pastry oriented fic. Too bad I can't put links in chapters. It's on my profile.
And I promise I'll introduce you all to the saucy lobster!