After watching the video a few more times- 538 times, I dropped it off back at Lord Voldemort's room. I was surprised to see him sitting up in his bed rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Is it time for my wakey-wakey?" he asked sleepily.

I looked at the clock and it read eight-thirty A.M. I had been up all night watching that puppet porn. "Why, yes. I believe it's time for you to wake up, my lord," I said cheerily. "And what would you like for breakfast?"

He began to think as he sat in his bed with his Golden Snitch decorated pajamas. "I want... pancakes. And can you put little chocolate chips in them? Can you make the chocolate chips spell out 'Good Morning Tommy'?"

"Of course, my lord," I said but then I spotted Puppet-Ron dangling near Lord Voldemort's bed. I suddenly felt a bit "excited". I walked towards the puppet and touched it with my finger, "My lord, if it's all right, may I borrow this... wonderful doll of yours?"

He nodded, still yawning.

I grabbed Puppet-Ron and ran away to my room.

Breakfast can wait.

3 hours later...

My escapades with that darling Ron puppet was fulfilling as I had included my own puppets of his brothers, the Twins.

But enough about me!

Lord Voldemort and I had an engaging conversation during breakfast. I grabbed his yearbook from the bookshelf and flipped through it.

"Wow," I said wide-eyed. "You were quite the handsome one, my lord. What happened?"

He gave me the "what's suppose to mean" look.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," I said, reading the name underneath his picture.

"Yes," he said with a faraway look in his eyes. "My name was indeed sexy."

"Marvolo," I said in a nasally disgusted voice. "What the hell is that? Is sounds like a cheap brand of cigarettes."

"How dare you admonish me, vermin!" he looked enraged. "You do not speak so freely to me!"

"Now, now," I said, nonchalantly looking at the yearbook. "Don't shout with your mouth full."

"That's it," he whipped out his wand. All thirteen-and-a-half inches of it. "Avada Kedavra!"

He aimed at me but I was quick and whipped his pet snake from underneath the table and shielded myself with it.

"NO!" Lord Voldemort shrieked. "NOT POOPSIE!" he leapt from his seat and cradled the snake in his arms. "Poopsie! It's all right! Daddy's right here! Don't die now, Poopsie!" tears were streaming down his cheeks as he held the snake close to his chest. He raised his face up towards the ceiling and screamed dramatically, "NOOOOO!"

He stroked the snake (hehe, pervert) which was burned to a crisp. It smelled quite delicious and it made my mouth water.

"See what you did," I said clicking my tongue in a motherly sort of way. "Silly you decided to be all reckless and now you've killed your snake," I pried Poopsie from Lord Voldemort's trembling arms, "I'll take care of this. Now go to your room."

His lower lip was quivering but he reluctantly stood up and stomped all the way up to his room.

I called him down to dinner.

"Where's Poopsie?" was the first thing he asked.

I pulled out our dinner from inside the oven and looked down at it, "Well, uh, I gave Poopsie a very good funeral. I'm sure he has completed his goal in life..." then I muttered, "Or at least he's gonna complete it..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What's for dinner?" he asked looking at the plate.

"Chicken."

"Really?" he sniffed at it. "It looks kind of longish. Like a snake."

"Well," I began. "I decided to carve our chicken and make it look like Poopsie. Sort of like a monument, you know? This can be his funeral dinner," then I added in a hush tone, "Literally."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Without further ado, we heartily ate our dinner of ... Poopsie.