A/N: Hmm...I seem to be churning out a lot of these lately...ah well.

MOO: #22

Pairing: NONE! (gasp)

Dedication: For anyone with writer's block and/or a self-imposed deadline

Disclaimer:.emithtneetpmueht rof ,enim toN

Warning: Pure, uttter...what is the word? Crack? Insanity, total abandon of plot...such fun we have.

"Right," said Voldemort pompously, stroking his white foofy dog.

"Milord? What the hell is that thing in your lap?" queried Lucius.

"Shut up. Its name is Tommycindy," huffed the Dark Lord. "It is a pretty little doggie, yes oo ish, who ish my pwetty wittew doggie? Oo ah, es oo ah! Ow ish my shnookums? Ish oo tiewed? Doesh oo want a nappy-poo?"

Lucius started to snicker, setting off the rest of the Death Eaters.

Voldemort glared. "What is so funny, may I ask?"

The cronies shut up immediately.

"AS I was saying," Voldemort said with a menacing look. "We must discuss our problem. The war."

"The war with Potter and the side of light? Ooh, goody! What kind of war? The card game? Will we play a football match? Quidditch? Gin Rummy? Cripple Mister Onion?"

Narcissa laid a restraining hand on her husband's arm.

"I have a plan," she lilted. "Challenge the boy to a finding-things game, a least-in-sight game, a hide-and-go-seek game."

Voldeemort shook his head. "Too long to set up. I want something DRAMATIC!"

When he flung up his arms dramatically, he accidentally threw Tommycindy onto Bellatrix's head.

"EEEEEEEEEK!" Bella ran around the room and leapt out the window, where she sprouted feelers from her head and lived the rest of her life as a bumblebee.

Five minutes later, Tommycindy came back in.

"How did you levitate through the window?" asked Voldemort.

Tommycindy shrugged.

"Why is your name Tommycindy?" Lucius asked.

"Because Voldemort has commitment issues," Tommycindy replied.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lucius demanded.

Voldemort shrugged. "I don't know!" His head started spinning and he danced the tango around the room with a lampshade.

"NOODLES!" screeched Bumblebee Bellatrix.

"Alas! I have gained weight! I am such a pig, I must diet immediately!" screamed Voldemort. Thinking Voldemort had said 'die' instead of 'diet,' Harry Potter's hero complex kicked in and he burst out of his Slash Victims Anonymous Therapy Session and to the rescue, burying Voldemort in anti-slash flames.

"EEK! I BURN!" Voldemort shrivelled and died. Harry sobbed.

"Someone else has died! Alas! I must go angst!" he cried, crying.

Everyone dropped what they were doing and all stood around watching Harry Potter go through Depressing (Melo)Dramatic Teenage Angst for the next six hundred years.