These characters do not belong to me, they are the property of J.K. Rowling and Matt Groening. This chapter is pretty nasty, but I swear things will get funnier...I have a poem
up at Decompositions, so check that out...
51.
HERMAN
Voldemort arched his back and screamed.
"What's wrong with him?" Artie asked.
"You bloody Muggle idiot, if I knew that-"
"Lucius, shut up," Voldemort gasped. He had retreated into the fetal position.
Lucius half expected him to suck his thumb.
"Master, I-"
With what strength he had, Voldemort sat up and pointed his wand at Lucius Malfoy.
"Artie, have you ever told anyone 'Pull your lip over your head and swallow?'"
"That one's beneath me," Artie said.
"Well, if Lucius says one more word, I'm going to make him do exactly that."
Nott turned away from the window. He wore an eyepatch over one eye; he looked
like the world's most ineffectual pirate.
"Are you in pain, master?" he asked.
"Considerable pain, Nott," and he smirked. "But I look better than you do."
Sprawled in an easy chair, Narcissa burped.
"Again?" Nott asked. "As if she still needs an excuse."
"What did you say, Nott?" Malfoy asked.
"He intimated that your wife's a whore-"
Malfoy turned-
"-And she bloody well is."
Trevor Crabbe stood in the doorway; he was a grownup version of his son; a pasty
lump of nasty vacuity.
"I don't think there's anyone in this room who hasn't had your wife, Lucius."
Voldemort coughed.
Lucius whirled around.
"You, too?"
Narcissa cackled.
"Come now, Lucius...after what happened in the Ministry last year...who do you suppose was the first to comfort me? If
all the other Death Eaters got on their knees as quickly as your wife did-"
"I would have thought...Bella." Nott said.
"How do you think I punished her?" Voldemort asked.
"STOP," Lucius yelled. "I can't LISTEN to this anymore-"
"Are you telling ME what to do, Lucius?"
"No. No, I-"
"You're all going to follow Lucius and turn on me, sooner or later. Don't think
I don't know that."
"My Lord, we would never-"
"Nott, stop talking," Voldemort said. "You're all a bunch of bloody incompetents."
Nott looked at Lucius.
"That's it," Lucius said. "My Lord-"
"Don't call me that, you ingrate. As of now-"
"I will prove myself worthy," Lucius said.
Voldemort was silent for a moment.
"Prove yourself?"
"Yes. Yes, I will."
"And you thought you could forsake me."
"But now I know that's impossible."
"Of course it is," Voldemort said. "Now go prove yourself worthy of being a Death Eater,
Lucius. I suggest something extraordinary. Take Nott and Crabbe and this-" he tossed a
thumb at Artie-"with you."
"What about you, my Lord?"
"Your wife will attend to me."
Lucius nearly said something; words simmered, but he clenched his jaw nearly as hard as
he did his fists.
"As you wish, my Lord."
Nott kept looking over at Lucius, with an unbearable grin on his face.
"What?" Lucius asked.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"Thinking of what?"
"Whether or not I-" Nott giggled.
"I don't care what you did to my wife," Lucius said.
"It's what she did to him, you should be concerned about," Crabbe said.
"Shut up," Nott said. "You got a piece of her, same as I did. In fact, Lucius,
I think you ought to know we double-teamed her while you were sitting in Azkaban,
being psychologically rogered by the Dementors-" and that was all Lucius could take.
He pounced on Nott, knocking him to the pavement. Nott cried out, swearing at Lucius,
throwing an elbow that caught Lucius under the chin. Lucius fell backwards-"Hey," Artie
yelled, as Lucius regained his balance and ran straight into Crabbe, trying in vain to
shield Nott. "Don't hold me back, Crabbe," Lucius hissed, and Crabbe shoved him backwards.
Lucius pointed his wand at Crabbe-
"What are you going to do, Lucius?" Crabbe asked. "Kill me?"
"I should. I should kill you right here, Crabbe. I-"
Lucius's arm began to shake. To the amazement of everyone, Lucius Malfoy's legs gave
out, and he fell to the street in a heap, moaning for want of tears.
"Oh, great." Artie said.
"Shut up," Nott said. He and Crabbe went to Lucius.
"I can't take this anymore," Malfoy said.
"Hey, mate, listen, you don't-"
His voice rising, near hysteria, Malfoy said "I had a home. I had a family. I had...I
had EVERYTHING and they took it away from me. That BASTARD back there, he's DYING and
we follow him, we're afraid to say his name. It's a STUPID name. Voldemort. Voldemort.
Voldemort, Voldemort, VOLDEMORT-"
"STUPEFY."
Energy crackled through Malfoy, and everything went black.
Lucius groaned.
"Evening, Lucius," Nott said.
"Ugh," Malfoy said, testing his head with a few fingers. "My head's killing me."
"You took a nasty spill off the curb, there. Remember?"
"No...the last thing I remember...I said I'd prove myself worthy of being a Death Eater,
and the rest-"
"Well, at least your mind is clear."
"Mmmm," Malfoy said. "Have you three come up with a plan?"
"Not a thing," Artie said.
"I figured you wouldn't," Lucius said.
"It must be something big," Nott said.
"Nott?" Crabbe asked.
"Yeah, what?"
"How's your depth perception?"
"Why?" Nott asked. "Are you going to throw something at me?"
"Just asking," Crabbe asked. "You never know, I might be concerned about your well-being."
Nott looked at Crabbe, and they both laughed like idiots.
"Well," Lucius said. "I think it's a foregone conclusion that we must deliver Ralph
Wiggum to Lord Voldemort. And therefore, his parents must be...terminated. As will anyone
who stand in our way."
"That'll be a schoolful of people. The boy's teachers and friends, and don't forget..."
"I know," Lucius said. "The usual suspects."
"We're the usual suspects, Lucius."
"Yes, well..."
"Guns," Lucius said.
"What?"
"We're going to need guns."
"Guns? Why do we need guns?"
"Oh my God," Artie said. "It'll be just like what happened at that school in Russia. Listen,
I'm out of this plan right now. I'm-"
Malfoy pointed his wand at Artie Ziff.
"-with you guys all the way."
"Do you know a place where we can get lots of guns, Ziff?"
Ziff felt his spine melt.
"...yeah. I...I know a place."
Herman pressed the Glock against his temple and pulled the trigger.
He imagined what the recoil would've been like, had the thing been loaded.
"Brains and blood all over the place," he said.
"Hey," the clerk said, "I keep warning you, no testing out the merchandise before you buy."
"I think I'd like to buy this one," Herman said. He gave the firearm to the clerk.
"You know the drill," he said. "Three-"
He was interrupted by the bell as the door rang.
Herman recognized Artie Ziff; he had never met the man. They traveled in different social circles. He didn't know
the guys with him-a scowling blond man with an aristocratic sneer, a short, fat customer with a pudgy face and the
last man wore an eyepatch. The three of them were clad in identical black robes.
"What are you guys?" the clerk asked. "Monks?"
"We want guns," Ziff said.
"Well, gee, I guess you're in the right place."
"Excuse me," Herman said. He made his way out the door.
On the way out of Bloodbath And Beyond, fuming, Lucius almost missed the man. He reminded Lucius of Alastor Moody, only
this man was missing an arm. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair thinning but ratty. He looked very, very angry about something. A cigarette hung from his mouth, like a fractured limb.
"No luck with the guns?" he asked.
"He said it was a three-day waiting period," Lucius said.
"We don't have three days," said Nott.
"I got what you need," said the man. His voice sounded strangely nasal. "Better than guns."
"Better than guns?"
"I'll teach you how to make napalm," Herman said.
"...napalm?"
51.
HERMAN
Voldemort arched his back and screamed.
"What's wrong with him?" Artie asked.
"You bloody Muggle idiot, if I knew that-"
"Lucius, shut up," Voldemort gasped. He had retreated into the fetal position.
Lucius half expected him to suck his thumb.
"Master, I-"
With what strength he had, Voldemort sat up and pointed his wand at Lucius Malfoy.
"Artie, have you ever told anyone 'Pull your lip over your head and swallow?'"
"That one's beneath me," Artie said.
"Well, if Lucius says one more word, I'm going to make him do exactly that."
Nott turned away from the window. He wore an eyepatch over one eye; he looked
like the world's most ineffectual pirate.
"Are you in pain, master?" he asked.
"Considerable pain, Nott," and he smirked. "But I look better than you do."
Sprawled in an easy chair, Narcissa burped.
"Again?" Nott asked. "As if she still needs an excuse."
"What did you say, Nott?" Malfoy asked.
"He intimated that your wife's a whore-"
Malfoy turned-
"-And she bloody well is."
Trevor Crabbe stood in the doorway; he was a grownup version of his son; a pasty
lump of nasty vacuity.
"I don't think there's anyone in this room who hasn't had your wife, Lucius."
Voldemort coughed.
Lucius whirled around.
"You, too?"
Narcissa cackled.
"Come now, Lucius...after what happened in the Ministry last year...who do you suppose was the first to comfort me? If
all the other Death Eaters got on their knees as quickly as your wife did-"
"I would have thought...Bella." Nott said.
"How do you think I punished her?" Voldemort asked.
"STOP," Lucius yelled. "I can't LISTEN to this anymore-"
"Are you telling ME what to do, Lucius?"
"No. No, I-"
"You're all going to follow Lucius and turn on me, sooner or later. Don't think
I don't know that."
"My Lord, we would never-"
"Nott, stop talking," Voldemort said. "You're all a bunch of bloody incompetents."
Nott looked at Lucius.
"That's it," Lucius said. "My Lord-"
"Don't call me that, you ingrate. As of now-"
"I will prove myself worthy," Lucius said.
Voldemort was silent for a moment.
"Prove yourself?"
"Yes. Yes, I will."
"And you thought you could forsake me."
"But now I know that's impossible."
"Of course it is," Voldemort said. "Now go prove yourself worthy of being a Death Eater,
Lucius. I suggest something extraordinary. Take Nott and Crabbe and this-" he tossed a
thumb at Artie-"with you."
"What about you, my Lord?"
"Your wife will attend to me."
Lucius nearly said something; words simmered, but he clenched his jaw nearly as hard as
he did his fists.
"As you wish, my Lord."
Nott kept looking over at Lucius, with an unbearable grin on his face.
"What?" Lucius asked.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"Thinking of what?"
"Whether or not I-" Nott giggled.
"I don't care what you did to my wife," Lucius said.
"It's what she did to him, you should be concerned about," Crabbe said.
"Shut up," Nott said. "You got a piece of her, same as I did. In fact, Lucius,
I think you ought to know we double-teamed her while you were sitting in Azkaban,
being psychologically rogered by the Dementors-" and that was all Lucius could take.
He pounced on Nott, knocking him to the pavement. Nott cried out, swearing at Lucius,
throwing an elbow that caught Lucius under the chin. Lucius fell backwards-"Hey," Artie
yelled, as Lucius regained his balance and ran straight into Crabbe, trying in vain to
shield Nott. "Don't hold me back, Crabbe," Lucius hissed, and Crabbe shoved him backwards.
Lucius pointed his wand at Crabbe-
"What are you going to do, Lucius?" Crabbe asked. "Kill me?"
"I should. I should kill you right here, Crabbe. I-"
Lucius's arm began to shake. To the amazement of everyone, Lucius Malfoy's legs gave
out, and he fell to the street in a heap, moaning for want of tears.
"Oh, great." Artie said.
"Shut up," Nott said. He and Crabbe went to Lucius.
"I can't take this anymore," Malfoy said.
"Hey, mate, listen, you don't-"
His voice rising, near hysteria, Malfoy said "I had a home. I had a family. I had...I
had EVERYTHING and they took it away from me. That BASTARD back there, he's DYING and
we follow him, we're afraid to say his name. It's a STUPID name. Voldemort. Voldemort.
Voldemort, Voldemort, VOLDEMORT-"
"STUPEFY."
Energy crackled through Malfoy, and everything went black.
Lucius groaned.
"Evening, Lucius," Nott said.
"Ugh," Malfoy said, testing his head with a few fingers. "My head's killing me."
"You took a nasty spill off the curb, there. Remember?"
"No...the last thing I remember...I said I'd prove myself worthy of being a Death Eater,
and the rest-"
"Well, at least your mind is clear."
"Mmmm," Malfoy said. "Have you three come up with a plan?"
"Not a thing," Artie said.
"I figured you wouldn't," Lucius said.
"It must be something big," Nott said.
"Nott?" Crabbe asked.
"Yeah, what?"
"How's your depth perception?"
"Why?" Nott asked. "Are you going to throw something at me?"
"Just asking," Crabbe asked. "You never know, I might be concerned about your well-being."
Nott looked at Crabbe, and they both laughed like idiots.
"Well," Lucius said. "I think it's a foregone conclusion that we must deliver Ralph
Wiggum to Lord Voldemort. And therefore, his parents must be...terminated. As will anyone
who stand in our way."
"That'll be a schoolful of people. The boy's teachers and friends, and don't forget..."
"I know," Lucius said. "The usual suspects."
"We're the usual suspects, Lucius."
"Yes, well..."
"Guns," Lucius said.
"What?"
"We're going to need guns."
"Guns? Why do we need guns?"
"Oh my God," Artie said. "It'll be just like what happened at that school in Russia. Listen,
I'm out of this plan right now. I'm-"
Malfoy pointed his wand at Artie Ziff.
"-with you guys all the way."
"Do you know a place where we can get lots of guns, Ziff?"
Ziff felt his spine melt.
"...yeah. I...I know a place."
Herman pressed the Glock against his temple and pulled the trigger.
He imagined what the recoil would've been like, had the thing been loaded.
"Brains and blood all over the place," he said.
"Hey," the clerk said, "I keep warning you, no testing out the merchandise before you buy."
"I think I'd like to buy this one," Herman said. He gave the firearm to the clerk.
"You know the drill," he said. "Three-"
He was interrupted by the bell as the door rang.
Herman recognized Artie Ziff; he had never met the man. They traveled in different social circles. He didn't know
the guys with him-a scowling blond man with an aristocratic sneer, a short, fat customer with a pudgy face and the
last man wore an eyepatch. The three of them were clad in identical black robes.
"What are you guys?" the clerk asked. "Monks?"
"We want guns," Ziff said.
"Well, gee, I guess you're in the right place."
"Excuse me," Herman said. He made his way out the door.
On the way out of Bloodbath And Beyond, fuming, Lucius almost missed the man. He reminded Lucius of Alastor Moody, only
this man was missing an arm. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair thinning but ratty. He looked very, very angry about something. A cigarette hung from his mouth, like a fractured limb.
"No luck with the guns?" he asked.
"He said it was a three-day waiting period," Lucius said.
"We don't have three days," said Nott.
"I got what you need," said the man. His voice sounded strangely nasal. "Better than guns."
"Better than guns?"
"I'll teach you how to make napalm," Herman said.
"...napalm?"
