THE FUT-O SCOPE, AND SOMETHING VERY CRUEL
A/N: Sooooooooooo… It's me, the sugar-high one. I've been gorging on Halloween candy for two weeks straight, so beware. Be very very ware. I've been promising my friend Shana that I would torture her in a fic, so, watch out Shana! This is the big one! Don't feel excluded, my friends will all get one sooner or later, especially Gwen, for not giving the chocolate-ness and not letting me hide in her suitcase and go to France with her… Mmmmm, France. K, we'll get into it now.
Author: (Appears in a puff of dramatic smoke) Bwahahaha… (hacking cough, conjures up Triaminic, and takes a dose) There, that's better. Remember, Triaminic always works.
Hermione: Ahem, will you please stop plugging now, so we can get on to whatever mayhem you have in store for us and get back to our crappy hotel room? I wanna beat all the guys at poker again.
Author: (Hefts wad of bills) Hey, Hermy! I bet you can't beat me at poker!
Hermione: Don't… call… me… Hermy… Okay!
(Three hands of hold-'em, two hands of draw, two hands of baseball, a game of lowball, one hand of deuces wild, and several annoying verses of the jeopardy music later…)
Author: Damn!
Hermione: You know, that was such a challenging game, I think you deserve something for trying… (Gives Author an I. O. U.)
Author: Grr… You will have my eternal rage, and I shall give you a punishment more terrible than any you could imagine…
Ron: Hey, catch! (Throws a mini-Butterfinger)
Author: Oooh! Butterfinger! (Runs after Butterfinger)
Ron: Hermione, my love, are you okay? That rage… I thought I'd never see you again… (slapped by Hermione)
Hermione: Ron, you're overdoing it, so stop soliloquizing, and let's roll. Wanna play poker?
(Harry and Ron edge away)
Author: (Returns panting from her Butterfinger chase, with all the previous events erased from her mind in a new round of sugar-high-ness) Hey, let's look through the Fut-o Scope!
All: Eh?
Author: Yes, I can see the future! Behold… (Presses button on an elaborate-machiney-thingamugummy that appears next to her; Widescreen TV unfolds)
Harry & Ron & Hermione & Draco in perfect unison: Widescreen… (Worship widescreen)
Author: Ahem… (Presses more buttons)
Draco: Wow! You look like a real techie! What'd you just do?
Author: I used the built-in SOS to call for a nerd to operate this thing; I have no idea how to do it.
Nerd Squad: (Bursts through the door dressed in spandex) Fear our techno-skillz!
All but Nerd Squad: (Shudder at spandex)
Nerd Squad: (Shrinks into a corner and begins to operate the machine. The first thing that comes up on the screen is an aged Pillsbury Doughboy.)
Doughboy on screen: (Wheezy-voiced) So, of course, I got addicted to all that helium they made me use, and then once I got poked and it punctured a lung…
Author: Change the channel! I wanna see these guys' future.
(The channel changes to…)
Cheesy announcer: Harry Potter, the Later Years! Let's look at the cast list:
Groucho Marx – Harry Potter
Woody Allen – Ron Weasley
Julie Hagerty – Hermione Granger
Carol Burnett – Ginny Weasley
Madeline Kahn – Cho Chang
Michael Caine – Draco Malfoy
John Lithgow – Fred
Steve Martin – George
Author: But wait! It doesn't show who Harry's married to! This won't do at all.
So, to begin the torture… ahem, to find out who Harry's mystery bride is, let's play…
Harry: (Cowers)
Author: The Dating Game!
Hermione: Didn't we already do that… for me… I had nightmares…
Author: You're right. Okay, the Matchmaking Game!
Draco: (Sings soprano-ly) Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match! Fine me a find, catch me a catch, bring me a ring for I'm …
Author: Okay then… (Draco disappears and reappears in a boxing ring, across from Mohammed Ali.)
Hermione: (slips hundred dollar bill into Mohammed Ali's hand) Kill that guy for me, will ya?
Harry: Where'd you get all that cash?
Hermione: I won it off you morons at poker, remember?
Harry: Was that the night we got stoned?
Hermione: Um… I didn't think it was possible to get drunk off Tropicana Fruit Punch.
Author: Oh, I spiked it to see what would happen. (THX to Venus Goddess Sailor Manga U, this is a reference to her YW fic What The…?)
Hermione: Thaaaaaaaaaaat explains it. Anyway, I can beat you at poker even when you're sober.
Ron: Harry, you actually play better when you're drunk.
Hermione: Yes, disturbingly.
Author: Anyway, we'll call back our commentator…
Commentator: (walks on) Hey! You got to appear in a puff of smoke! I wanna be dramatic too!
Author: Sorry, they cut the special effects budget again; there's only enough for me to do what ever I want. Anyway, get on with the announcing.
Commentator: Lousy, stupid, hjtdhmveajfod… Hi there, everyone! Today, we're going to play the Dating Game! Our bachelor today is none other than the sought-after, handsome, pubescent… Let's hear it for the boy who lived, Mr. Harry Potter! Get up here, you!
Harry: (Walks onto the stage, trembling, over an applause track)
Hermione: Why do you have fake applause if they cut your budget?
Author: Shut up…
Commentator: Now, let's meet out bachelorettes! First up, a singing sensation, "Not just another bimbo," (a real quote from her, believe it or not) give it up for Christina Aguilera!
Hermione: Meh. She won't last long. Um… I hope…
Christina Aguilera: (walks in triumphantly and flutters her eyelashes at Harry; Harry retches)
Commentator: Bachelorette Number Two is a huge favorite, and all the guys secretly wish they could have her, let's meet Barbie!
Author: (Runs onstage and whispers to commentator) Um, something happened backstage, and Barbie got a little… well…
Commentator: Ah, say no more. Let's meet Barbie on crack!
Barbie: (Sits disturbingly rigidly in her seat. Overly preppy:) Hi! I'm tour-guide Barbie!
Commentator: And, last, but not least… in fact, she's only last because we read the list in reverse-alphabetical order and one of our guests didn't have a last name… heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere, Shana!
All: Meh?
Ron: (To Hermione) I know I'm celebrity-impaired, but should I know these people?
Hermione: Um… everyone but the last one. I have no idea who she is.
Shana: (Walks in, wearing a fluffy pink boa, and flutters her eyelashes more forcefully than Christina Aguilera) Hi, Harry!
Harry: (Blow backwards by the gale from the eyebrow-flutter) Meep! Um…
Commentator: So, bachelorettes, take your seats, and let's play the Dating Game, or the Matchmaking Game, or whatever it's called now! Yeah! Harry, you can begin asking your bachelorettes questions.
Harry: Um… Bachelorette #3, what's your favorite piece of furniture?
Shana: The bed, Harry dear.
Harry: Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!!!!! (Deep breaths, squishes a stress-ball into a pulp). Now, #2, same question.
Barbie: I like my penthouse!
Harry: Is that really an answer?
Barbie: Suuuuuuure it is! My penthouse is pretty and pink, and…
Harry: Fine, fine. Now, same to you, #1.
Christina Aguilera: Well, I would, like, totally have to say, like, my mirror!
Hermione: This kind of behavior should be outlawed.
Ron: Amen.
Draco: I don't think so! (Eyebrows at Hermione)
Hermione: Um… (Sprays Draco with mace)
Draco: (Runs in circles rubbing his face) My eyes! My eyes, they burn! And… I have pepper spray in my hair!!!! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRG!!!!!!!! This'll take weeks to wash out, even with my Neutrogena quadruple-shampoo ritual! (Shudders and collapses, sobbing)
Hermione: Um… (nudges Draco with a stick)
Ron: Here, I'll do it. (Kicks Draco) Hey, this is fun!
(Ron and Hermione both start kicking Draco, who doesn't seem to notice and is still sobbing about his hair.)
Christina Aguilera: Oh! A fellow quadruple-Neutrogena user is in trouble! I must help! Here, my brother, listen to my healing voice: (begins to sing a disgusting pop number. Draco looks at her misty-eyed. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and the Author all gag.)
Author: What have I done? I've released a monster… ah well. (conjures earplugs)
Draco: Aaaaaah… thank you, my love…
(Draco and Christina Aguilera link arms and walk off into the sunset with the pop album still playing in the background)
Ron: Does this mean she was lip-syncing?
Author: Wait… something doesn't look right… (waves a hand, and suddenly the sillouettes of Draco and Christina Aguilera are walking into a bloody and stormy appocolipse) Aaaah. All is at peace.
Hermione: I told you that she wouldn't last long, but no one ever listens to me! Like, last year when I said we shouldn't go to the Ministry, but noooooooooooo! No one ever listens to me!
Author: What?
Hermione: I said, no one ever listens to me! And you still have earplugs in!
Author: What?
Hermione: (Yanks out earplugs) I said, NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO ME!!!!!!
Author: Oh, sorry, I wasn't listening because I was wearing earplugs.
Commentator: (pops a paper bag) I need attention dammit!!!!! Ahem, so, Harry, ask your next questions.
Harry: Right… ulp! Now, um, #2, what is your favorite song?
Barbie: Oh! Yay! I get to sing!
Harry: No, wait! I didn't —
Barbie: (sings) I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie world
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!
you can brush my hair, undress me everywhere, ahem…
Imagination, life is your creation…
Harry: (Tosses Author a mini-Butterfinger)
Author: Righto! (Eats Butterfinger, has a brief moment of sugar-high-ness, and then spirits Barbie into a magical, giant microwave where she melts.)
Harry: Thankyouthankyouthankyou…
Author: Well, you did give me a Butterfinger… and you lost just as much money to Hermy as I did… and that singing was driving me insane —
Hermione: — Er.
Author: Quiet, you! Anyway, it was nothing.
Commentator: Well, Harry, all your other bachelorettes have left, so you're left with Shana! C'mon, you lovebirds you!
Shana: C'mere, Harry, darling…
Harry: Noooooooooooooooooo! I choose to remain single!
Commentator: Is that allowed? (Runs to check rulebook)
Shana: (Darkly, dramaticly, and trying-to-act-seductive-ly as music starts in the background:) You have to take me… (sings:) Whatever Shana wants… (Music fades, to be replaced by Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock!) Hey, who turned down the music?!?!?!
Author: Oh, I was getting in the Christmas spirit, even tho I'm Jewish… there's just no escaping it, so you might as well get some presents. I didn't know you were using the music. Sorry. (turns sterio back on.)
Shana: Thanks. (sings:) … Shana gets
And little man, little Shana wants you
Amke up your mind to have no regrets
Recline yourself, resign yourself, you're through
I always get what I aim for
And your heart'n soul is what I came for
(Dance break: Shana forces Harry into a tango, then spins him into a chair and leans toward him then twists away and backwards, twirling her fluffy boa so much that it strangles her.)
Shana: (Gags, gets the boa off in time for:) …Shana wants
Shana gets,
Take off your coat
Don't you know you can't win? (Breathes hevily, runs offstage, eats an orange slice and chuggs a waterbottle, douses herself with the rest of it, drys herself with the boa, and nearly gets crushed as the boa absorbs the water and becomes six times her weight. She throws it off and it makes a dent in the tile floor nearby. She ignores it and runs back on stage.)
You're no exception to the rule,
I'm irresistible, you fool, give in!...Give in!...Give in! (Stands triumphantly at the front of the stage; bows, then looks at the empty seating area.Crickets chirp. She looks around, puzzled, sidesteps a cane reaching out to snag her from offstage, and gets crushed by the curtain.)
A/N: Don't tell me, the ending was eff-ed up. I was going a bit sane, so I decided to stop before things got normal. Oh, nothing personal, Shana, your part could be played by anyone. I just wanted to get back at you for poking my so much, and for stealing my gun and chasing me around. You shot the sheriff… Oh, and I took most of the Dating Game lines from my theatre camp, Lucy Moses, so don't go giving me too much credit. Actually, you can if you want to, I don't mind. Ahem…