Great, Dirty, Indigo Lizards
by Ada Kensington
AN: Hello, all! I've decided to take a break from 'What Would You See?' I've wanted to do something like this for ages, but I haven't had the right ideas in my head. Well, it finally came to me when I was watching the closing scenes of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban at a late night showing at my local cinema. You know, when Harry goes up to visit Remus Lupin one last time before he leaves Hogwarts? You'll recognise what I mean when you read the intro. So sit back, chill out and get ready for the epic adventure that is 'Great, Dirty, Indigo Lizards.'
Warning: This story is AU (though the characters are not OC) and contains very surreal images and hallucinogenic drug use. Remember, though, it's all in good fun! Don't do drugs!
Enjoy!
- Ada K.
Chapter Two:
A while after the rabbit had kicked them out of his house, Remus realised that the pretty colours he had seen out of the window when he had first regained consciousness had nothing whatsoever to do with any beautiful dawn light. The sky was actually a war zone, the reds against the blues, both sides appearing to have hired mercenaries of green, orange and pink, who fought with various levels of skill and discipline. There was a constant rain of colours as soldiers from each side fell, shapeless blobs of colour screaming in pain and hitting the ground with a wet slap. Now and again, the warring factions would pull back and regroup, hiding behind stray clouds who had accidentally wandered into the fray. Always, though, they would charge with a resounding roar, clashing in the middle of the battle air. Inevitably, casualties would follow.
Siruis gasped in awe as a section of reds outflanked and ran-through a regiment of blues. The blues, however, having put up a good fight, managed to take out a few of their enemies, causing a great, purple splodge to cascade spectacularly onto the road in front of them. It was a stunning sight. That was, until they realised that it was heading straight for them. They only just managed to dive through Mrs Biggle's door in time. Breathing hard, they cast a fear-filled glance at one another, as a second later, they heard the echoing thunder of the unfortunates slamming into the cobblestones. The whole house shook and a little plaster flaked off the ceiling, dusting Remus' hair and making Sirius cough violently.
'Well. What're we going to do now?' Remus asked, wide-eyed, still shaking from his brush with imminent, purple-filled death.
'A-KOOFAH! A-KOOFAH!' Sirius said.
'I suppose we could ask Mrs Biggle for help, I mean, she's always been nice…'
'A-KAAAH! A-KAAH! HA-KAAH!' Sirius added, violently.
'She helped me out with my laundry that time, remember?'
'HOOF! HOO-HOOF! HOO-HOOF! HOOF! HOOF!!!'
'Sirius?'
'A-HACK-HACK-HACK!!!'
'You alright?'
'HACK… Hack… Hoof… Hoof… Huuuurrrrrgghhyup.'
'Good. Come on. Let's go find her. She might be sitting in her garden,' Remus said, dragging Sirius behind him, still spluttering.
As they walked through Mrs Biggle's rooms, they began to realise there was something a bit off. A table snickered at them, an oriental rug tried to trip them and a chandelier wolf-whistled at them. However, the icing on the cake had to be when Sirius accidentally tripped over a footstool and it told him to watch where he was fucking going. Mumbling an apology, they continued on through Remus' neighbour's house, when, suddenly, there was a noise.
In the background, someone was evidently playing a pretty mean solo on an electric guitar.
'That's absolutely wailing, man!' Sirius yelled, commencing a quick spate of air-drumming with a pained concentration.
Remus listened for a minute and then shook his head slowly. 'It's alright. What it needs a good bass line…'
As if on cue, a pounding, sleazy bass riff kicked in, making them tap their feet.
'YEAH!' Remus shouted, with a grin, punching the air. 'That's what I'm talking about.'
Exhilarated, the pair jammed for a while, leaping about like lunatics and skidding across the floor on their knees, each attempting a rather uncanny Robert de Niro impression. Eventually, the couch joined in with vocals and the lampshade added harmonies.
They were on fire.
Just as things were hotting up, the mysterious guitar-player emerged from the kitchen and joined them. They never really found out who it was, but that didn't matter. Diving around the room, Remus had never felt so alive. He looked over at Sirius, who, in the middle of his drumming, gave him a grin and a thumbs up, and as he pounded his guitar strings, he knew in his soul that he had connected with the music. He, Remus J. Lupin, was the music.
A crowd had gathered. Girls were screaming. The bookshelf fainted, scattering books everywhere, promptly causing the breakout of an extraordinarily brutal mosh pit, in which a copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests was ripped from its binding with a shriek of rage by two angry Daily Prophets. Moreover, with each power-chord struck, the walls melted and morphed into different objects: giant blue apples; scarlet and ochre crossword grids; a whole hoard of great, dirty, indigo lizards; and one thousand bottle-green eggs, which were currently whizzing around at breakneck speed.
'ARE YOU HAVING FUN?' Sirius roared, sweating and exhilarated from an hour-long drum solo.
The crowd went wild.
'THIS ONE'S DEDICATED TO CHARLIE!' he yelled, indicating the lamp, who reclined what could have been its head. 'HE'S GOT A FUCKING GREAT VOICE AND WE'RE LUCKY TO HAVE HIM HERE TONIGHT! AREN'T WE, PEOPLE?'
The crowd went berserk in agreement.
'READY? A-ONE… A-TWO… A-ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!'
Sirius began to hammer at the toms, pounding the bass double-pedal with his feet and battering the snare and the cymbals with ferocious energy, when suddenly, one of his drumsticks went flying out of his hand, catching a single, bottle-green egg and smashing it to pieces.
Everything fell silent.
In slow motion, the egg fell to the floor with a thud that sounded like lead upon stone, spinning, with its own innards trailing out behind it. For a heartbeat, no-one dared breathe, everyone in the room stood there, numbly, weighing up the consequences. There was a stirring of discontent coming from the direction of the rest of the bottle-green eggs.
'Errr… Padfoot?' Remus said conversationally, sidling stealthily up to his stricken friend.
'Yes, Moony?' he answered out of the corner of his mouth.
'I think we'd better leave.'
'I concur wholeheartedly. You always were the sensible one, after all.'
Simultaneously, they turned and ran, scrabbling to get out of the living room. Unfortunately, a rogue coaster spotted their short-lived attempt at escape.
'MURDERERS! THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!' it howled.
Swarming together, motivated only by the thought of avenging their fallen comrade, the now nine-hundred and ninety-nine strong mob of bottle-green eggs thundered out the tiny archway after them like a hurricane, whisking up clouds of shredded paper and dust in their wake. Remus and Sirius didn't bother to close the door after them. This was just as well, as it gave them a bit of a head start, and the furious wall of bottle-green eggs obliterated it on their way out, anyway.
Remus ran like he had never ran before, his arms pinwheeling in the breeze as he was convinced it would make him go faster. Sirius, however, appeared to have sprouted a pair of wings on his feet and was zooming along upside down, yelling and flailing. Close behind them, there was an unpleasant and incessant, buzzing drone which was growing louder and louder by the nano-second.
'THEY'RE GAINING! THEY'RE GAINING!' he screamed. 'GIVE ME YOUR HAND AND I'LL PICK YOU UP!'
Without a moment's pause, Remus grabbed his airborne friend's hand and felt himself flying along the streets of Hogsmeade, the air (which smelt oddly of lavender) rushing past his face. With a grin, he noted that the distance between them and the onslaught of single-minded ovarian death was getting wider.
'SIRIUS! WE'RE LOSING THEM!'
'REALLY?' Sirius exclaimed, looking round happily.
Sure enough, their potential assassins had slowed to a halt.
'Can't keep up with us, eh?' he continued breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. 'Should've known they weren't tough enough. Figuratively speaking of course, heh heh…'
Crack…
The grin froze on Sirius' face.
'Merlin's nadgers…' he whispered.
Crack… Crack… Crack-crack-crack-crack…
As one, the bottle-green eggs split, their whites (or their greens, depending on how you look at it) spilling onto the cobbled streets with a muffled 'blorp.' Hovering in the air, the pair looked on, frozen in horror, as a vast tidal wave of ooze careered toward them. As far as they were concerned, death was imminent and inevitable. With a 'gloop', the eggy wave swelled and curled up over their heads, casting a long, ominous shadow.
'Ohshit…' Sirius whispered, just before the wall of goo hit them head-on with a mighty 'SPLAAP!'
Carried a couple of hundred yards down the street, they eventually slithered to a halt. For a moment, they just lay there in the foul-smelling green goo, groaning.
'My face feels a bit raw, Moony…'
'Your face? Your face? I had my mouth open!'
There was a pause in which the other contemplated this new revelation.
'Wow. That's pretty shit, mate.'
'We need help.'
'I know…'
'So where're we going to go?'
'Dunno…'
'Find Evelyn?'
'Sounds good to me, mate.'
'Right…'
'Right…'
'Let's get up then.'
'You first. You're the responsible one with the plan.'
Rolling his eyes, Remus stood up, slipping in the remains of the bottle-green eggs. After helping Sirius up with much struggling and cursing, he looked around once at his surroundings and yelped.
'Wha? What's the matter?' Sirius said frantically, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. He opened his eyes and gaped. 'Bloody hell…' he said weakly, placing a wet, sticky hand on his friend's equally wet, sticky shoulder.
'I know...' Remus said mournfully, nodding. 'I know...
They were stuck right smack-bang in the middle of a forest.
AN: Right. If you're going to ask where I get my ideas from, I have no idea. If you're going to ask what the hell is wrong with me, again, I have no idea. If you're asking for Flopsy's services, he's fully booked for this week and the next, but he's got some slots free from the first of August onward. If you're wanting some of the stuff I'm on, then drop me an e-mail and I'll arrange something for you.
Then again, if you're going to review, that would be nice and I most certainly won't stop you, so go right ahead. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that if you don't review, I'll set Flopsy on you. Believe me, you wouldn't like that. Not at all…