Author's note: This is a parody of everything from the three movies, and
all five books. It is random silliness [but sticking to the fourth book's
plot] that is meant to make you laugh, and to boost my self-esteem knowing
that I made you laugh, [that was a plea to get you to review, in case you
didn't catch that (].
In this story, I am basically making fun of everything from bad directing, to bad acting, bad script writing, also how certain random huts magically changed locations to the bottom of a certain random hill, horrible uses of animal crackers, the shocking lack of soon-to-be-important characters [cough] CEDRIC DIGGORY [cough] CHO CHANG. Sorry, I seem to be coming down with a cold. Continuing on... the incredible lack of important information, [cough] MARAUDERS [cough] JAMES POTTER [cough] MADE MAP [cough]. Sorry, I think I need a lozenge. Well that's all from me.
WARNING: Random stabs at overly used plotlines, pairings, Mary-Sues, Gary- Stu's, and bad slash. Don't get me wrong, it's all in good fun, I have nothing against authors, or stories involving any of the aforementioned...ugh, things. Actually, if you've read any really good ones lately, point me in the right direction, especially if they're Lily/James, or MWPP.
Ingredients: 8 cups coffee 5 tablespoons randomness ¾ cups Slash 2 bottles Irish whiskey ½ pair Dirty socks 1 bottle Ritalin 1 Insane Authoress [For best effects use brand name: Jillian Prewett] Place in blender on Puree. Serve Chilled. Enjoy.
Anything inside [these things] is me/Director talking. WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... I GIVE YOU.... THE STORY!!!
Location: The premiere of the fourth installment of the Harry Potter movies.
HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES.
[Name changed in case those 'Bloody Americans' don't know what a 'Goblet Of Fire' is.]
The director stands up to address the audience. She is in all black, with a beret set at a jaunty angle on her head. She has dark glasses, and has drawn a fake goatee on her face in black eyeliner, most likely for effect. She speaks in a misty, dramatic voice, with a horribly fake accent of some unknown origin.
"Ladies, and Gentlemen! Lend me your ears! It is I! The great Jillian Prewett! It is an honor to finally move up in the world of filmmaking; it seems that only yesterday that I was a film student, working on the highly unpopular crime thriller "He Stole My Barbie," an erotic children's fantasy movie about transvestite preschoolers. So without further ado... I give you... HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES!!!
The lights dim, and the film rolls. The ratings show on the screen. It reads: Rated R for violence, drug use, epic battle scenes, nudity, sexual content, strong language, and disturbing images.
All the mothers pull their children from the theater faster than the Director can say "NC-17."
The legend appears "HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES." FADE IN to the first scene...The Riddle house. An old man is walking down a hall in an old house. He pauses in front of a partially open door, and listens.
"Wormtail! Get me my bunny slippers!" Says a harsh voice.
"Yes m-master." Comes a sniveling voice.
'Yes master?' Thinks Frank Bryce, the old man standing in the doorway. "Am I in another Porno? Cause this wouldn't be the first time. Damn, someone could have told me, I just bought that great leather cat suit, oh, and that whip is in the drawer next to my bed." [How do you know what he's thinking? I am just that great.]
A snake slithers past Frank into the room.
"Wormtail, we need to keep a steady flow of conversation about our plans for Harry Potter's death, so the man standing outside the door gets suspicious of us, and so he knows that we are Dark Wizards, so that thousands of miles away Harry Potter can wake up with his scar hurtling, and thus advance the plotline."
"How do you know this master?" Asks Wormtail.
"I am Lord Voldemort. I am all knowing."
"You read ahead in the script, didn't you?"
"So what if I did? Now shut the hell up, and retrieve the man from the doorway."
"Yes Master." Wormtail ambles to the door, and pulls Frank Bryce inside.
"Hey! Lemme go! I'm trying to be a brave, arrogant old man!" Frank Bryce squeals as Wormtail manhandles him into the room.
"You do that." Voldemort says impatiently.
"You're a criminal, and a Dark wizard, and a bad, bad man," Frank starts yelling. "I'm calling the police!" "I don't answer to the laws of men." Voldemort hisses.
"Then you will answer to god!" Franks says. Voldemort kills him. ['Splooshbedougle']
"You first." Voldemort says quietly.
"I commend you on your wonderful Three Musketeers reference, my Lord." Wormtail snivels.
"Thank you Wormtail. Now, lets sing my theme song as the scene FADES OUT on us, and FADES IN on Harry Potter."
"All that fading was quite annoying, my Lord." Wormtail adds.
They begin to sing.
"Yo I'm the Dark Lord, They call me Volders. I hit you with any spell And watch your remains smolder. I'm the master pimp, Yeah I'm the bomb, How great am I? JUST ASK YOUR MOM!!"
FADES OUT.
Harry Potter wakes up a thousand miles away, with his scar hurting.
"Ow. I'm waking up a thousand miles away, with my scar hurting. Man, that was a horrible rap. [Author clears her throat loudly.] Oh, ummm, sorry Jill. Hey, while I'm on the subject, who should I tell that my scar is hurting?"
He thinks. 'I already know Hermione's reaction.' "Honestly, will you ever take the time to READ Hogwart's: a History?" He didn't know why she would react that way, she just would. He didn't understand women. Then there was Ron. . Ron's reaction he could guess with deadly accuracy. "Man, I want some sausages." It was obvious why, because he really did want some sausages. Men were so much less complicated than women. 'Something I will soon have to figure out, having read ahead to the script for the fifth movie/book, 'The Cult of The Big Red Bird.' [Title changed in case those 'Bloody Americans' didn't know what an 'Order Of the Phoenix' is.]'
"I know! I'll write to Sirius! He'll know if curse scars sometimes hurt thirteen years after they were made. I don't know why he would know such a thing, it's not like he's an expert on curse scars, or dark arts for that matter, he was framed actually, and has no connections to the dark arts whatsoever, but if I don't write to him then the plot wont advance, so here goes."
He pulled out a quill and parchment, why he couldn't just use a pen and paper, nobody will ever know. He wrote:
Dear Sirius,
This morning I woke up with my scar hurting. I also had a bad dream that Lord Voldemort and Wormtail were in a porno and they killed this dirty old man who was talking about wearing a leather cat suit, and something about a whip. They were also plotting to kill me this year. But I've decided that I'm not going to mention the dream to you though, because I don't want you to know about it. Well that, and because I don't want to come off a weak angst filled teenager that takes plots to kill me in my dreams seriously. Best regards, [Sloppy angsty teen signature] Harry
Feeling satisfied with his letter, and glad that he had decided not to tell Sirius about his dream, he stands and gets dressed. He finds that it is day outside, so he goes downstairs.
But what awaits him- even he doesn't know.....
How was that guys? Review, and I'll kidnap your favorite HP character and send them to you in a box! Well, if I can find a big enough box, but I'm sure I could, I'd do anything for my reviewers.
How'd you like Voldemort's rap? I made it up all by myself, I was pretty darn proud of myself.
AND NOW! A REVIEW SONG....JUST FOR YOU!! [To the tune of QUEEN'S 'We Will Rock You.'
" PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--IEW! PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--VIEW Buddy you're a boy [maybe]
Make a big noise Reviewin' my story
My fic's gonna be a big hit some day
I've got tears on my face, cause my stories a big disgrace
Fic-ers kicking my ass all over the place
(Singing) PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--IEW! PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE—VIEW.
Lets try for 15 reviews, next chapter will be longer I swear, and funnier, this is just a set up, getting into the swing of it all.
In this story, I am basically making fun of everything from bad directing, to bad acting, bad script writing, also how certain random huts magically changed locations to the bottom of a certain random hill, horrible uses of animal crackers, the shocking lack of soon-to-be-important characters [cough] CEDRIC DIGGORY [cough] CHO CHANG. Sorry, I seem to be coming down with a cold. Continuing on... the incredible lack of important information, [cough] MARAUDERS [cough] JAMES POTTER [cough] MADE MAP [cough]. Sorry, I think I need a lozenge. Well that's all from me.
WARNING: Random stabs at overly used plotlines, pairings, Mary-Sues, Gary- Stu's, and bad slash. Don't get me wrong, it's all in good fun, I have nothing against authors, or stories involving any of the aforementioned...ugh, things. Actually, if you've read any really good ones lately, point me in the right direction, especially if they're Lily/James, or MWPP.
Ingredients: 8 cups coffee 5 tablespoons randomness ¾ cups Slash 2 bottles Irish whiskey ½ pair Dirty socks 1 bottle Ritalin 1 Insane Authoress [For best effects use brand name: Jillian Prewett] Place in blender on Puree. Serve Chilled. Enjoy.
Anything inside [these things] is me/Director talking. WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... I GIVE YOU.... THE STORY!!!
Location: The premiere of the fourth installment of the Harry Potter movies.
HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES.
[Name changed in case those 'Bloody Americans' don't know what a 'Goblet Of Fire' is.]
The director stands up to address the audience. She is in all black, with a beret set at a jaunty angle on her head. She has dark glasses, and has drawn a fake goatee on her face in black eyeliner, most likely for effect. She speaks in a misty, dramatic voice, with a horribly fake accent of some unknown origin.
"Ladies, and Gentlemen! Lend me your ears! It is I! The great Jillian Prewett! It is an honor to finally move up in the world of filmmaking; it seems that only yesterday that I was a film student, working on the highly unpopular crime thriller "He Stole My Barbie," an erotic children's fantasy movie about transvestite preschoolers. So without further ado... I give you... HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES!!!
The lights dim, and the film rolls. The ratings show on the screen. It reads: Rated R for violence, drug use, epic battle scenes, nudity, sexual content, strong language, and disturbing images.
All the mothers pull their children from the theater faster than the Director can say "NC-17."
The legend appears "HARRY POTTER AND THE CUP OF FLAMES." FADE IN to the first scene...The Riddle house. An old man is walking down a hall in an old house. He pauses in front of a partially open door, and listens.
"Wormtail! Get me my bunny slippers!" Says a harsh voice.
"Yes m-master." Comes a sniveling voice.
'Yes master?' Thinks Frank Bryce, the old man standing in the doorway. "Am I in another Porno? Cause this wouldn't be the first time. Damn, someone could have told me, I just bought that great leather cat suit, oh, and that whip is in the drawer next to my bed." [How do you know what he's thinking? I am just that great.]
A snake slithers past Frank into the room.
"Wormtail, we need to keep a steady flow of conversation about our plans for Harry Potter's death, so the man standing outside the door gets suspicious of us, and so he knows that we are Dark Wizards, so that thousands of miles away Harry Potter can wake up with his scar hurtling, and thus advance the plotline."
"How do you know this master?" Asks Wormtail.
"I am Lord Voldemort. I am all knowing."
"You read ahead in the script, didn't you?"
"So what if I did? Now shut the hell up, and retrieve the man from the doorway."
"Yes Master." Wormtail ambles to the door, and pulls Frank Bryce inside.
"Hey! Lemme go! I'm trying to be a brave, arrogant old man!" Frank Bryce squeals as Wormtail manhandles him into the room.
"You do that." Voldemort says impatiently.
"You're a criminal, and a Dark wizard, and a bad, bad man," Frank starts yelling. "I'm calling the police!" "I don't answer to the laws of men." Voldemort hisses.
"Then you will answer to god!" Franks says. Voldemort kills him. ['Splooshbedougle']
"You first." Voldemort says quietly.
"I commend you on your wonderful Three Musketeers reference, my Lord." Wormtail snivels.
"Thank you Wormtail. Now, lets sing my theme song as the scene FADES OUT on us, and FADES IN on Harry Potter."
"All that fading was quite annoying, my Lord." Wormtail adds.
They begin to sing.
"Yo I'm the Dark Lord, They call me Volders. I hit you with any spell And watch your remains smolder. I'm the master pimp, Yeah I'm the bomb, How great am I? JUST ASK YOUR MOM!!"
FADES OUT.
Harry Potter wakes up a thousand miles away, with his scar hurting.
"Ow. I'm waking up a thousand miles away, with my scar hurting. Man, that was a horrible rap. [Author clears her throat loudly.] Oh, ummm, sorry Jill. Hey, while I'm on the subject, who should I tell that my scar is hurting?"
He thinks. 'I already know Hermione's reaction.' "Honestly, will you ever take the time to READ Hogwart's: a History?" He didn't know why she would react that way, she just would. He didn't understand women. Then there was Ron. . Ron's reaction he could guess with deadly accuracy. "Man, I want some sausages." It was obvious why, because he really did want some sausages. Men were so much less complicated than women. 'Something I will soon have to figure out, having read ahead to the script for the fifth movie/book, 'The Cult of The Big Red Bird.' [Title changed in case those 'Bloody Americans' didn't know what an 'Order Of the Phoenix' is.]'
"I know! I'll write to Sirius! He'll know if curse scars sometimes hurt thirteen years after they were made. I don't know why he would know such a thing, it's not like he's an expert on curse scars, or dark arts for that matter, he was framed actually, and has no connections to the dark arts whatsoever, but if I don't write to him then the plot wont advance, so here goes."
He pulled out a quill and parchment, why he couldn't just use a pen and paper, nobody will ever know. He wrote:
Dear Sirius,
This morning I woke up with my scar hurting. I also had a bad dream that Lord Voldemort and Wormtail were in a porno and they killed this dirty old man who was talking about wearing a leather cat suit, and something about a whip. They were also plotting to kill me this year. But I've decided that I'm not going to mention the dream to you though, because I don't want you to know about it. Well that, and because I don't want to come off a weak angst filled teenager that takes plots to kill me in my dreams seriously. Best regards, [Sloppy angsty teen signature] Harry
Feeling satisfied with his letter, and glad that he had decided not to tell Sirius about his dream, he stands and gets dressed. He finds that it is day outside, so he goes downstairs.
But what awaits him- even he doesn't know.....
How was that guys? Review, and I'll kidnap your favorite HP character and send them to you in a box! Well, if I can find a big enough box, but I'm sure I could, I'd do anything for my reviewers.
How'd you like Voldemort's rap? I made it up all by myself, I was pretty darn proud of myself.
AND NOW! A REVIEW SONG....JUST FOR YOU!! [To the tune of QUEEN'S 'We Will Rock You.'
" PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--IEW! PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--VIEW Buddy you're a boy [maybe]
Make a big noise Reviewin' my story
My fic's gonna be a big hit some day
I've got tears on my face, cause my stories a big disgrace
Fic-ers kicking my ass all over the place
(Singing) PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE--IEW! PLEASE DO, PLEASE DO, RE—VIEW.
Lets try for 15 reviews, next chapter will be longer I swear, and funnier, this is just a set up, getting into the swing of it all.