A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed… please don't flog me. I know it took AGES for me to update. Don't kill me, or the next chapter will take even longer. Enjoy! Oh, and play Runescape, at , it's really great. Yeah, and I changed the set-bracked-thingimugummies to parenthases. Anyway... read. Review. You know the drill. Oh, and HP os all J. K.'s, so don't sue.
Chapter 4 -- EX-GAMES
Author: So, let's recap what's happened so far. J. K. Rowling got attacked by the Harry Potter characters, and we realized that Ron is in love with Hillary Duff (shudder). Then everyone went bowling, and I got sugar-high, as always, and Ron sucked –
Ron: Did not!
Author: (Rolls eyes) Ron sucked, and we scared off three celebrities, and then the Pillsbury Doughboy came, and he was on steroids and was working for the CIA, and Hermione played the Dating Game and chose Kenny but Kenny died, and I got hit over the head with a giant mallet. (Looks at teleprompter) Huh? I don't remember that happening. (Gets hit on the head with a giant mallet)
Hermione: (Snickers)
Author: Quiet, you! Anyway, let's get to our adventure for today. It all started when… (Snorts Pixie Stix) Ooh… sugarful. (Makes conga line) Hyper, hyper, hyper! Hyper, hyper, hyper!
Draco: (Joins conga line)
Ron: Malfoy is a disturbingly good dancer.
Pansy: (Randomly appears) I read his diary; he wears a magic frilly pink ballet tutu that helps him dance.
Harry: Now that's just scary.
Author: Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight, moving on…
Dumbledore: (Appears not-quite-so-randomly) You wanted to see me, miss…
Author: (Magisterially) You may refer to me as Empress of the Fanfiction Universe and Supreme Ruler of the Mutant Marshmallow Kingdom.
Dumbledore: (ulp) Well, miss Empress of the Fanfiction Universe and Supreme Ruler of the Mutant Marshmallow Kingdom, What's up?
Author, a. k. a. Empress of the Fanfiction Universe and Supreme Ruler of the Mutant Marshmallow Kingdom: Well, I've decided to come up with new ways to torture the characters, and I need a panel of judges for this one. Sit at the judges table.
Draco: (Offers bribe to Dumbledore)
Dumbledore: (Takes bribe, whistles casually)
Author: Well, I'm getting typer's cramp from typing that name.
Um… And now, here is judge number two…
Dilbert: I've done it! I've successfully created a teleportation machine!
Author: Uh, no, this is my insane fanfiction universe and you are here to judge at the EX-GAMES!
Dilbert: Isn't that supposed to be X-GAMES?
Author: I didn't want to infringe on any more copyrights, and also, these games are definitely going to be ex-attractions, or something, when I'm through with them.
Harry: That's what's cool about fanfics; everyone can tell what you typed.
Hermione: Could you be any more irrelevant?
Harry: sure! Watch this: (Takes a deep breath in preparation for whatever spontaniusness he has in store, then stops and looks at a pigeon) Here, birdie. (Chases after pigeon)
Author: We need one more judge…
Random Person: (Appears, looks around) Erm… Eeeeeeeep! A sugar-high person with supreme authority who can cross-dress people and force them into bowling with George W. Bush or playing the Dating Game? I'm outta here! (Runs from sugar-high author)
Author: Wait just one second, Random Person. Sit at the judges table or I'll force you into a skirt.
Random Person: (Sits at judges' table) Yes'm, I'll be good.
Author: I'll give you a random name… (browses phonebook) What about Rumplestiltskin? Nah, that's even harder to type. Tell you what, we'll call you Kenny.
Kenny: Yes'm. (bows)
Author: So, now we have our three judges, so let's get on with the games. (Conjures commentator)
Commentator: (In a constant Chee-Z announcer voice) Okay, and welcome to the EX-GAMES! I'm your commentator… um… The Commentator. First event, Draco Malfoy versus Hermy Puckle –
Hermione: (Hisses)
Commentator: Okay then, Hermione Granger, in the pie-throwing contest!
Ron: Eh?
Harry: Pie!!!! (Runs toward piles of pie, gets stopped by security guard)
Guard: Sit down, punk! (takes out machine gun)
Harry: Ulp! I'll be good.
Hermione: (Wonderingly) Wow, that depraved lunatic who's keeping us prisoner in this fanfiction has actually spent money on security?
Author: No, these guys are mafia thugs I got as a thank-you for releasing Tony Soprano from another fanfic.
Hermione: Ooooooooooooooooooooh. So you're still cheap. Good. If you actually started spending money we'd be in an even worse situation than we are.
Harry: Geez, she captured Tony Soprano? Now I'm scared.
Ron: You were stupid enough not to be scared already?
Harry: Well… yeah! (Resumes chasing pigeons)
Hermione: (Rolls eyes) Hopeless…
Commentator: Contestants, take your places, one at either end of the arena, and pick up a pie.
Hermione & Draco: (Go into places, pick up pies from piles next to them)
Dudley: (Runs on, steals pie, eats, gags.) This isn't real whipped-cream pie!
Author: Yeah, the EX-GAMES! had some budget cuts, so all we could afford was shaving cream.
Dudley: You $$hole! I'll sue you for all the money you have!
Author: Good luck. My dad never pays me allowance anymore, so the most you'll get is a buck-fifty.
Dudley: Aw damn! I'm gonna go beat up some democrats.
Commentator: Now, ready… Aim… banana!
Draco: (accidentally throws)
Hermione: (blocks pie with wand, sends it at Author)
Author: (swallows pie) Mmm… Banana…
Ron: (scratches head) I thought that was shaving cream.
Author: It was. I transformed it into banana cream.
Harry: Ooh! Banana cream! (runs up to Author) Will you make me some, please, please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top?
Author: All right, all right, just shaddup! (conjures pie)
Harry: (looks at pie) I said with a cherry on top!
Author: Ahem... (Zaps Harry into a straightjacket)
Harry: Oh, right. That. (Toddles off to the bleachers, somehow gets to the top, then rolls down them.
Hermione: (under her breath to Ron) Moron.
Ron: I don't even know why we're still friends with him.
Hermione: Well, he's Dumbledore's favorite boy, so I can suck up to the old fogey through him and get all my grades boosted.
Dumbledore: (From judges' table) I heard that!
Hermione: Shut up, old man! I'm the only thing keeping your school's grade average up; stop doubling my marks and you'll be on probation!
Dumbledore: I'll be good.
Dilbert: Have I missed something?
Ron: (To Dilbert) Don't worry, mate. She's always like that. I think she's taken more steroids than the Doughboy.
Dilbert: Come again?
Ron: Um… long story.
Dilbert: Better than watching idiots fling pies at eachother.
Ron: Well, we went bowling and the Pillsbury Doughboy came and he was on steroids, and he beat us all at bowling and we poked him, and he went away on a secret mission for the CIA.
Dilbert: O-kaaaaaaaaaay…
Commentator: Arg… No attention… melting… (melts into a puddle of cheeZ. Two half-size new announcers spring up from the cheeZ)
Draco: Neat-o! They're like amoebas!
(The one of the two Commentators walks off to sit in the bleachers.)
Commentator still in arena: Ahem!!!! Yeah, so, pie throwers, on your mark… get set… go!
Draco: (Throws one pie over Hermione's head, and the next about three yards short of her.) You stupid pies… I'll tell daddy!
(Everybody rolls their eyes)
Hermione: (Throws a pie that hits Draco straight in the face)
Draco: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! My face, my beautiful face, obscured by shaving cream… and my HAIR!!!!! (Curls into a fetal position and sobs uncontrollably)
Kenny: A "9" for Hermione, a "2" for Draco.
Dilbert: Yup.
Dumbledore: Uh-huh.
Commentator: Okay then, Draco's disqualified. Next event: the poetry competition. Ron, , you're up. You have to act out a poem. You get the help of… a shape-changing animated blob!
(A black blob appears on Ron's shoulder, and he walks off to the stage. Harry, who is still chasing pigions, looks around, and runs after the blob. The blob turns into a blonde, teenage girl and whacks Harry away verbally with the destructive force of Hurricane Ivan.)
Commentator: now, please stop shouding abuse, please, and do the scene. You have to score high enough to move on, Ron. Whatever poem you like, but you taking off your shirt for any reason is prohibbited. Draco, maybe, but you…
Draco: I'm special!
Hermione: (rolls eyes) Special ed.
Draco: Oh my god, she complemented me!
(Everyone rolls their eyes)
Ron: (In a testosterone-ly lowered voice:) Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak… um… um… November!
Yeah. Um…
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Nameless here forevermore. (He stares up at a beautiful portrait of
Hermione)
Hermione: (from stands) Hey!
Ron: And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
Harry: (Steps out from behind purple curtains) Boo!
Hermione: Not like that! You're missing the point of the poem, Harry!
Harry: Who cares? CURTAINS!!!! (plays with the curtain, gets hauled off by
the security guard again)
Ron: Ahem… So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood
repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
And my pills I had been popping,
Um… no rhymes….
Yahadda yaddah… stopping,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
Hermione!" Merely this, and nothing more.
Hermione: Merely?!?!?! I mean… Ron… You… oh, nevermind.
Ron: Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
The blob: (Enters as a raven, with purple wings)
Ron: Um… lose the purple.
Blob: (Reappears with black wings)
Ron: Thanks. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or
stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven…
Blob: Eat my shorts!
Ron: (hefts a flamethrower)
Blob: I mean… heh, heh… "Nevermore."
Ron: Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said,
Blob: Screw Dumbledore!
Ron: (Flame-throws the blob)
Singed Blob: Heh… "Nevermore."
Ron: Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Author: Um… Ron? How much longer is this thing?
Ron: Only another few novels. Why?
Commentator: While I appreicate the sophistication you seem to have
aquired out of nowhere, I was thinking that you would have acted out something… different.
Ron: Like what? The oddessy?
Author: Maybe… like, a limerik? Or a Haiku?
Dilbert: I think we should cut this short. You'd make a good buisiness
manager, Ron; always spewing crap that no one can understand, so they mistake it for knowledge.
Dumbledore: I'll give him a "10" if he stops now.
Kenny: Same here.
Dilbert: Me too.
Commentator: Okay, a perfect "10" for Ron, who is done with his piece, right
Ron? Hint, hint. (Eyebrows)
Ron: Um… okay! (Steps on the blob) Yadah, yaddah, nevermore!
(Everybody cheers at the end of the piece)
Commentator: So… Ron and Hermione compete in the final battle, the CAGE MATCH!
Ron: Ulp!
Commentator: You have to find a way to get this match (Close-up of a match, looking frightened) out of this cage (the camera zooms back to reveal that the match is inside a cage.) You must do this without magic, and you must be touching eachother.
Ron: Okay! (Reaches for Hermione's chest.)
Hermione: (slaps Ron, knocking him unconcious. She steps on his head, takes his wand, and throws it at the cage. It hits the lock directly. The cage springs open and the match runs out. He immediately starts trying to kill the Author.)
Author: AAAAAAAAAAAAARG!!!!!!!!!! A killer match!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeep! (Begins making a mime-box around herself, that the match hits and bounces off of. A thug takes the matchstick away.)
Thug: I'll snap you like a… like a matchstick!
Author: Idiot. I was perfectly safe inside this mime-box?
Thug: Wussat, boss?
Author: Ah, nevermind. Stupid thug. (Walks away, but bumps into her mime-box) Damn! I should have know this always happens when you make a mime-box!
Commentator: Well, this just about wraps up another pointless 12 pages of insanity, and ME, your HOT COMMENTATOR! (In a fit of macho-ness, he rips off his shirt and flings it to one side. It lands on the random judge names Kenny)
Kenny: Aaaaaaarg! Synthetic… fabric… So… heavy… Can't… breathe… (collapses, dead)
Hermione: Oh my god! You killed Kenny!
Ron: You bastard!
Commentator: (slinks away before the cops come)
A/N: Phycotic, wasn't it? REVIEW, DARN YOU!!!!! Shana… beware… the next chapter has your special moment… BOA! PUMA!