A/N: A helpful but extremely spiteful reviewer, coming on anonymously because she was either too lazy to sign in (hey, that's how this site describes it, not me) or because she's a bit chickeny-lickeny seeing as I KNOW who it is, lol, came on to inform me that we HAD in fact accidentally used real person's names when we DO try to be careful and NOT use them, seeing as it's against this site's policies, and that we didn't include fantasy/fictional characters and made it a complete "personalized/original" fiction... which was NOT wholly true, but anyways.

Our sincere apologies for accidentally (and without any malice) making these mistakes, and we will be more careful in the future. This and the other "Nardblar" story have been changed, and the new titles should go into effect soon. If this story is taken down for the reasons the anon-chickeny-lickeny person pointed out, as she'd reported it, it will be reposted with the changes made here, already in effect.

Thank you dear anon for bringing this to my attention. Even if ya are on the chickeny-spiteful side of the tracks. :winky winky:

Eriam was desperate.

Her packing needed to be done. Lyk NOW. She'd managed her clothes just fine, though some still smelled from her latest trip with Fairy-God Twiggy-Kindergoth, who'd just sorta... shown up one afternoon. Unfortunately, he'd landed in a pile of sorta-clean clothes, and his wand ended up shooting fairy-goo everywhere. He couldn't remember the spell to undo such a thing, but it hadn't mattered. They just called for pizza, drank lots of Jagermeister and had a wild romp in the sheets. That was about a month ago, but the stress from her moving back to the states had prevented a laundry trip.

Just as she'd been shoving eighteen tins tied together with duct tape and filled with sewing materials into a suitcase, a sudden crash came from her bedroom. "Well crap," Eriam muttered. The seven large boxes must have been knocked over by... well, she'd accidentally packed the smaller ones first, putting the larger ones on top. She was a bit too tired to rectify this once she'd realized, and simply put hope in place of common sense. Regretting this decision, she walked into the room and immediately froze.

About four people were scattered over the room; two on the bed holding boom mikes, one holding a recording device, and the strange, plaid-parachute-panted man, complete with a beret MATCHING them were all here. Eriam wasn't even stunned after what Nasus (known as Maple Syrup and Marsala) had left comments in her lime-journey about her encounter with the strange man. This sorta crap just seemed to HAPPEN, and it was all Eriam's fault. WHY she had to send that link, creating an unforgiving portal from Nardblar's home of Canada to the BOTH of them, somehow... unexplainable, but happening anyways.

"Hey. Yea. Look, I'm sorta busy, and you just upended my entire collection of Dr. Who DVDs..."

"We're HERE! It's unbelievable!" Nardblar suddenly exclaimed. Eriam blinked profusely.

"Not exactly, you do this random bullshit all the time, and for no good feckin' reason." She replied, deadpan. She knew it was useless. The only thing Nardblar was concerned with was his own randomized conversation tactics.

"We're HERE, in Eriam UpendedHurdyGurdy's bedroom! THE Eriam Dumbledore who is moving to...?"

"Um... the States," she relented. Nardblar's bobble on his hat bounced as he nodded profusely.

"Which is the home of Married-Manson's bassist...?"

"Um. Yea. Jordie Black."

"Who happened to come by MY STATION, in...?"

"Fucking Canada. Yea."

"That's right! A complete coincidence, is it not?" Nardblar replied in his usual high-volume tone. "And you ALSO went to the Magical School to learn Witchcraft and Wizardry, at the school...?"

"Uhh... Hogwarts. Yea. Listen," She replied."I'm really trying to pack to further this... 'coincidence', y'now. If you want to help me, it'd be nice. But you're not going to, are you?"

"While AT school, you became the head of the House...?"

"Slytherin," she said, deadpan. Nardblar nodded rabidly.

"And when you were there, you ALSO ran into the 'Boy Who Lived', named..."

"Okay. You're not gonna help me pack," she conceded. Nardblar switched subjects like socks.

"We were just at your friend's place, Nasus, THEE Maple Syrup and...?"

"Marsala." Eriam said, her eyes feeling droopy.

"TO which you performed the song by Fleetwood...?"

"Big Mac,"

"Who wrote the song, OF which you sang, titled..."

"Gold Dust... look, what the hell are you doing here?"

"WHICH was covered by the punk band...?"

"Troll. Troll, can you help me pick up my things you knocked over?" Eriam pleaded. Nardblar's expression grew wilder, the mike in his hand shaking.

"WHO is led by its frontwoman...?"

"Courtwad..."

"Who ALSO lives in the country...?"

"America, listen, I have shit to pack, do you think..."

"WHAT A COINCIDENCE!" Nardblar outright yelled. Eriam began pulling at the ends of her hair, twisting it in knots she'd never be able to undo.

"See the box, Nardblar? Do you SEE it? Pack it. Now." She demanded. Just then, a knock came from the door. Thinking that perhaps Nardblar had sent someone ELSE along, that perhaps landed in her backyard instead of her bedroom...

Wait. Anyone affiliated with this loon wouldn't knock. "Come in," she called, exasperated. A young, tall, dark haired man came into the room, smoking a clove cigarette.

"Need help packing?"

"Oh my good God! We are here with Eriam UpendedHurdyGurdy's bedroom WITH Miss Eriam UpendedHurdyGurdy herself, and NOW we have Josh Hardknot, star of the movies 'The Faculty' and 'Pearl Harbor' just arrive!"

Josh's eyes flashed a moment. "Bring that movie up again and I'll throw you out the fucking window,"

"You're here to help me pack?" Eriam asked tentatively. At his nod, she simply accepted it. Josh was never known for his beating around the bush, he simply got it DONE. Turning to Nardblar, she smiled, a bit too broadly than she'd intended. "Okay guys. You can go now."

"JOSH Hardknot, you starred in 'The Faculty' with the current obsession of our OTHER friend in the great United States, who's about half your height and goes by the name...?"

Josh said nothing. Nardblar was not deterred.

"And you played Zeke Tyler, seller of the homemade drug...?"

Josh simply stared at him, smoke billowing from his mouth as he lowered his cigarette. "Yea. You're fucking entertaining. Time to go,"

Eriam watched in absolute delight as Josh pulled a beer bottle out of nowhere, struck it on the door jamb and thrust the splintered glass into Nardblar's stomach. She ALMOST panicked, more over the blood stains that would SURELY affect her safety deposit, when the forms of Nardblar and his cronies simply disappeared. Turning to Josh she groaned.

"I'd love you... but I don't know how,"

"Fuck that. Let's pack," he said, putting the cigarette out on a left behind boom mike.