Harry Potter and the Vast Conspiracy: Chapter 2
Harry woke up to find Mrs. Figg, his batty cat-loving neighbor standing over him, holding a random shrunken head that was speaking in a Jamaican accent.
"yah-man, de cats got de yanks."
"Eh..what?"
But then Harry turned and saw a cat gnawing on the severed heads of the American Death Eaters.
Mrs. Figg smiled at him. "That's Jesus, gnawing on the left, and that's Gandhi on the right."
"But Mrs. Figg...they knew my mom..."
"Of course they did...she probably slept with them, she was a crack-whore."
"No!"
"Yes. And your Dad was her pimp."
"Noooo!"
And Harry ran out the door, waving his wand, when he met Dudley the Zorro- Wizard in the street, beating up...Mark Evans.
"Please help...sir...please...can't breathe."
"Wait...are you related to me?"
"What?...please help...me..." And Mark Evans was coughing up blood.
"My mom's last name was Evans, you know."
"So? The lady that lives in that house's name is Evans...and I'm not related to her. It's the 8th most common name in Britain. Please....stop him..."
Harry smelt tequila. "Wizard-Dudley-Zorro? Have you been drinking?"
"Yes. Now, please, I'm trying to break a piñata, here, Harry."
"Oh, I see."
"NOOO..."cried Mark Evans, "Please help me! I'm important to your life...I was on page 13...once...please..."
But Harry was running to the house where the Evans family lived. He was knocked on the door. Any minute his mom's relative would be inviting him in to tell Lily stories.
About thirty-minutes of knocking later, a blind Russian answered the door.
"Borshlavnic! Dopterdblagenschnip avtarmarclod."
"I'm your relative...tell me about my mom...you know, the red-haired Crack- whore!"
"Crack-whore?" the blind Russian said. "I from Krakow!"
"No, Uncle Borshlak, Crack-whore." And Harry hugged his new Uncle Evans.
Borshlak Evans reached for his cane and hit Harry repeatedly with it, while Mark Evans was moaning in the background.
A skinny woman came to the door. "Hello..and who are you?"
"I'm your relative...Harry Evans Potter...Lily the Crack-Whore's son."
"Krakow," said Borshlak Evans.
"I'm afraid you're wrong" said the skinny woman, "Our full name is Evanshostovickstojakovnowskyvichjaniskovach."
"Krakow," said Borshlak Evans. And he slammed the door.
So Harry sat crying on a rock, but it looked very fake and there were no tears and Mark Evans and Dudley stopped fighting so they could feel embarrassed for Daniel—I mean Harry's--terrible attempt at pretending to cry.
Just then Jesus and Gandhi (the cats) came and dragged Harry and Mark Evans to London. And once they got there, Jesus and Mark went one direction and Gandhi took Harry to the Leaky Cauldron, before getting hit by the Knight Bus. "Damnit, Mahn," said the Jamaican head, before the bus sped off. Then Cho Chang ate the dead cat. "mmm...remind me of my parent's Asian restaurant in Chinatown..." And then Cho's parents came and picked her up. They drove off, going 70 miles per hour over a speed bump with their turn signal on. Those darn Asian wizards, thought Harry.
Harry went into the Leaky Cauldron and found that Tom wasn't an old man like he was in Harry's first year, or a creepy hunchback like he was in Harry's third year. Now he was a scary-looking woman with breast-implants and a moustache.
Cornelius Fudge was also at the bar.
"Harry, I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry about calling you a liar...and crazy. Not really, though. I got fired on Tuesday."
"Why?"
"Because I screwed an intern."
"That's all...man, you can get away with that in the States."
"Well, Harry...that's where I'm going next. The good old U.S. of A. There, I can drown a woman in my car, and get elected into the government. I can sleep with fat intern, and no one will care. I can even marry a man." Fudge glanced shiftily around. "Tom, want to come to America with me?"
"Sure, hun." Said Tom, "Here, Scar-face. You can have the Leaky Cauldron."
"I don't want it, though."
"Oh well, just give it to him."
So Harry gave it to him, and stepped through the glorious portal into Diagon Alley, which really sounds very similar to Knockturn Alley, so you'd better pronounce it right when you use Flue Powder.
Harry woke up to find Mrs. Figg, his batty cat-loving neighbor standing over him, holding a random shrunken head that was speaking in a Jamaican accent.
"yah-man, de cats got de yanks."
"Eh..what?"
But then Harry turned and saw a cat gnawing on the severed heads of the American Death Eaters.
Mrs. Figg smiled at him. "That's Jesus, gnawing on the left, and that's Gandhi on the right."
"But Mrs. Figg...they knew my mom..."
"Of course they did...she probably slept with them, she was a crack-whore."
"No!"
"Yes. And your Dad was her pimp."
"Noooo!"
And Harry ran out the door, waving his wand, when he met Dudley the Zorro- Wizard in the street, beating up...Mark Evans.
"Please help...sir...please...can't breathe."
"Wait...are you related to me?"
"What?...please help...me..." And Mark Evans was coughing up blood.
"My mom's last name was Evans, you know."
"So? The lady that lives in that house's name is Evans...and I'm not related to her. It's the 8th most common name in Britain. Please....stop him..."
Harry smelt tequila. "Wizard-Dudley-Zorro? Have you been drinking?"
"Yes. Now, please, I'm trying to break a piñata, here, Harry."
"Oh, I see."
"NOOO..."cried Mark Evans, "Please help me! I'm important to your life...I was on page 13...once...please..."
But Harry was running to the house where the Evans family lived. He was knocked on the door. Any minute his mom's relative would be inviting him in to tell Lily stories.
About thirty-minutes of knocking later, a blind Russian answered the door.
"Borshlavnic! Dopterdblagenschnip avtarmarclod."
"I'm your relative...tell me about my mom...you know, the red-haired Crack- whore!"
"Crack-whore?" the blind Russian said. "I from Krakow!"
"No, Uncle Borshlak, Crack-whore." And Harry hugged his new Uncle Evans.
Borshlak Evans reached for his cane and hit Harry repeatedly with it, while Mark Evans was moaning in the background.
A skinny woman came to the door. "Hello..and who are you?"
"I'm your relative...Harry Evans Potter...Lily the Crack-Whore's son."
"Krakow," said Borshlak Evans.
"I'm afraid you're wrong" said the skinny woman, "Our full name is Evanshostovickstojakovnowskyvichjaniskovach."
"Krakow," said Borshlak Evans. And he slammed the door.
So Harry sat crying on a rock, but it looked very fake and there were no tears and Mark Evans and Dudley stopped fighting so they could feel embarrassed for Daniel—I mean Harry's--terrible attempt at pretending to cry.
Just then Jesus and Gandhi (the cats) came and dragged Harry and Mark Evans to London. And once they got there, Jesus and Mark went one direction and Gandhi took Harry to the Leaky Cauldron, before getting hit by the Knight Bus. "Damnit, Mahn," said the Jamaican head, before the bus sped off. Then Cho Chang ate the dead cat. "mmm...remind me of my parent's Asian restaurant in Chinatown..." And then Cho's parents came and picked her up. They drove off, going 70 miles per hour over a speed bump with their turn signal on. Those darn Asian wizards, thought Harry.
Harry went into the Leaky Cauldron and found that Tom wasn't an old man like he was in Harry's first year, or a creepy hunchback like he was in Harry's third year. Now he was a scary-looking woman with breast-implants and a moustache.
Cornelius Fudge was also at the bar.
"Harry, I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry about calling you a liar...and crazy. Not really, though. I got fired on Tuesday."
"Why?"
"Because I screwed an intern."
"That's all...man, you can get away with that in the States."
"Well, Harry...that's where I'm going next. The good old U.S. of A. There, I can drown a woman in my car, and get elected into the government. I can sleep with fat intern, and no one will care. I can even marry a man." Fudge glanced shiftily around. "Tom, want to come to America with me?"
"Sure, hun." Said Tom, "Here, Scar-face. You can have the Leaky Cauldron."
"I don't want it, though."
"Oh well, just give it to him."
So Harry gave it to him, and stepped through the glorious portal into Diagon Alley, which really sounds very similar to Knockturn Alley, so you'd better pronounce it right when you use Flue Powder.