Have you ever heard that one Green Day song intro? It goes like this:
"Nobody likes you,
Everyone's left you,
They're all out without you,
Having fun."
Yeah. I think that was written about me.
And no, it's not because I am a whiny, non-social, annoying, suicidal, look-at-me-I-cut-my-wrists-to-get-attention nincompoop. No, dear reader. Annoying perhaps, but none of the others. That is most definitely not why. And no, I don't cut and I'm not suicidal. Would you like to know the real reason? Yes, you would. It's because all of my friends are in Florida.
Stupid band trip.
All of my awesome band geek friends are in Florida, getting tan and eating Mickey Mouse. It's this huge music department trip, and all but like three of my friends are in Florida. If they're not in band, they're in chorus.
If they're not in chorus, they're in orchestra.
And if they're not in any of the above, they're obviously dead because I haven't seen them for a while.
Okay, enough whining. I'm annoying and self-absorbed, I know. We've already been over this. On to chapter… uh… four.
Wait! One more thing!
This
chapter is a welcome-home present for Christian, Lizagna, and the
gnomes George and Bill, who stowed away in Liz's and Christian's
suitcases and were actually in Florida with them the whole time.
Fortunately they fit right in at Disneyworld, being gnomes and all. Bill and George, I mean, not Liz and Christian.
Chapter FOUR! When Tiny People Dressed in Drag Attack! Gasp! Dun dun duunnnnnnnn Author slaps herself for being annoying and using ridiculously cheesy horror music. Then she slaps Harry because he's annoying.
Our chapter begins with Harry saying "OW!" and rubbing his head because a giant hand just reached down from the heavens and slapped him upside the head. But he quickly forgot about that due to his extremely short attention span.
Sitting in the kitchen, eating lunch like nothing had happened may have seemed like a very strange thing to do.
Which may have been why Harry wasn't doing it.
He was sitting in his room, waiting for the Weasleys to return from theirs, where they were developing the supposed 'cure' for his stupid pink horn. He snorted. If their new antidote was anything like the one they had given him for his headache… He shook his head, as if that would clear his mind. Harry didn't even want to think about what the new 'cure' would do.
Probably set him on fire or something equally stupid.
Maybe I shouldn't trust them, Harry thought. Maybe I should-- um-- sabotage their experiments or something.
Suddenly, a little miniature devil appeared on Harry's shoulder with a puff of smoke. The devil looked like a miniature Harry wearing those sparkly horns that you can buy at the dollar store. He even had a tail, held on by what appeared to be an elastic belt, to match. In addition to this, the devil was dressed in drag for some odd reason.
Harry gaped.
"Now, now," the devil Harry began, "I know it's odd to see a little Mini Me 666-er appear on your shoulder, but you should know that—"
"You're dressed in DRAG!" Harry interrupted.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm just supposed to represent a side of you that you don't usually let other people see. And boy am I glad that you don't let other people see this. It's embarrassing! Drag, Harry? DRAG?"
"SHH!" Harry hastily interrupted. "Ron might hear, and given recent events, the word 'drag' would be extremely scarring to him."
Apparently it still hadn't sunk in that there was a mini devil Harry sitting on Harry's shoulder.
"So anyway, what are you— OH MY BLOODY MERLIN!" Harry screamed and stood up quickly. Devil-Harry fell off his shoulder.
"What was that for?" Devil Harry asked as he brushed himself off, annoyed.
"THERE'S A MIN DEVIL HARRY SITTING ON MY SHOULDER!"
There. Harry had realized it. It had taken him a while, but still.
"Where? Oh wait, never mind," the devil said.
"I'M NOT BAD, I SWEAR!" Harry yelled, then realized what Ron would think if he heard that. "WHY ARE YOU HERE?"
"Haven't we gone over this already?" Devil Harry asked.
Harry gaped. He briefly considered running around like a deranged headless chicken, but then decided against it. He was already dealing with schizophrenia, apparently.
"No, you're not," Devil Harry sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes. He poofed back up onto Harry's shoulder. "I'm your conscience. Well, half of it, anyway. Jennifer should be arriving any second now."
"Jen— Jennifer?"
Devil Harry rolled his eyes again. "Merlin, they told me you were smart," he began.
"Who? Who told you I was smart?"
"I'm really not at liberty to discuss that," Devil Harry said. "And my name isn't Devil Harry, it's Luigi. Get it right."
Harry gaped.
"Anyway, as I was saying, they told me you were smart," said Luigi. "Obviously, they were really, really wrong."
It took Harry a minute, but he finally figured out that he had just been insulted. "Hey!"
"Thanks for proving my point, kid." Luigi pulled a large cigar our of nowhere, lit it with the tip of his finger, and began smoking it. "Well, if you're really as smart as they say, then you should know that every conscience has two parts― a good and a bad." He spoke as if talking to a four-year-old. That happened a lot to Harry― people treated him like an immature stupid kid. He couldn't figure out why…
Luigi tapped his foot impatiently and said in frustration, "Come on, Jennifer!"
Suddenly there was another puff of smoke on Harry's other shoulder, and a miniature Harry dressed up as a girl― makeup, short skirt, tight shirt and all― appeared. He (or she) also had wings and a small halo held up with sparkly pipe cleaners.
"Finally!" Luigi exclaimed. "You take forever to get ready, Larry!"
"How many times do I have to tell you: MY NAME IS JENNIFER NOW!" the 'angel' yelled in a very fake high-pitched voice. "Anyway, Harry, now that I'm here, we can begin helping you decide. And by the way, my name's Jennifer."
Harry gaped. He also rubbed his eyes and blinked twice. Then, comprehending what Jennifer had just said, he asked feebly, "Decide what?"
"Whether or not to sabotage Fred and George's experiment, of course!" Jennifer said in a fluttering voice. He giggled loudly (and incessantly for the next fifteen minutes). It sounded like this: "HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEHEEEHEE!" Harry cringed. Jennifer continued, "Cute devils they are!"
Harry twitched spastically, then asked Jennifer, "But… aren't you a man?"
Jennifer turned towards him. "HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! Of course! But my name is Jennifer now! And you have to admit that those two are very cute! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! And twins!" Noticing Harry's nauseous look, he tried to pout cutely (failed dismally, though), and he asked, "Whatever is the matter, Harry dear?"
Harry, looking very green, said weakly, "I just… threw up a little bit in my mouth."
"HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! You're cute when you're turning different colors!" Jennifer sighed. Luigi cleared his throat and said, "JENNIFER!"
"HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! Yes, Luigi dear?"
"Stop scarring Harry and LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS. SHALL WE? Also, don't call me 'dear' EVER AGAIN!"
Jennifer's expression turned offended, but he stayed quiet. Harry, meanwhile, wondered about Luigi's choice of words. They were the same ones that Fred and George had used before…
"OK, Harry," Luigi began. "Now, I think this is a stupid problem, but we're new at this, so they gave us the easy assignment. Simple problems come from simple minds, I guess." He waited expectantly for Harry to become offended, but Harry's a moron and he didn't get it.
"Anyhow," Luigi continued, "I think the choice is obvious. You should sabotage their stuff, 'cause they're annoying and it'd be fun."
But then, Jennifer piped up in his fake high voice, "NO! DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, HARRY! CHOOSE THE RIGHT THING TO DO! NOOOOOOOOOO!"
"O― ok," Harry stammered, bewildered.
"Are you serious?" Luigi interrupted. "Just mess their stuff up. Look what they did to you. And you know you'd have fun."
"Um― o― ok― if you say so―"
"HARRY, NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Jennifer screamed effeminately at the top of his tiny lungs.
"DO IT!" Luigi yelled. He began whacking Harry over the head with his tail.
"STOP WHIPPING ME!" Harry bellowed. He then realized that Ron was probably going to need professional therapy now.
"HARRY, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Jennifer screamed shrilly. "HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!"
"I― I― what― JUST STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU!" Harry screamed, thoroughly confused.
Then he heard Fred's voice through the door. "Harry, mate, what's the matter? It's getting a bit loud in there―"
"Don't worry, Fred," came George's voice. "That's just his schizophrenia. It's all right, he must have just forgotten to take his medication."
"They're coming in!" Harry whispered forcefully. "Get out of sight!"
"We're not leaving 'til you decide what you're gonna do," Jennifer said, putting his hands on his hips and tapping his foot impatiently.
"Leave!"
"No!"
"Fine, then you force me to do this!" Harry hissed, and he grabbed each one off his shoulder. One in each hand, he put his hands behind his back. Horribly, he was squeezing them without even realizing it, probably from stress. They were like little conscience stress balls.
The door opened.
"HAAARRRYYYYY!" Fred said brightly, rushing into the room and giving Harry a noogie.
"We've got the antidote!" George said a little bit too happily.
Fred noticed that Harry was holding his hands behind his back. "Say, Harry," he asked, cocking his head to the side, "What have you got behind your back there?"
"Nothing," Harry mumbled.
"Oh, come on, Harry― blimey― surely you weren't doing… anything… in here by yourself?" Fred asked, a nasty grin growing on his face. "You weren't... not wearing anything... again?"
"No!" Harry said, astounded that they could think such a thing. Ew.
"Then you won't mind showing us what you've got there," George said. They obviously thought it was something he was going to chuck at their heads or something, Harry reasoned.
"Crupetrifo!" Fred hissed suddenly. Harry's hands, as if with a will of their own, moved out from behind his back to in front of him. He tried to fight it, but was unable to. Then his hand began to open. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that there would be some questions asked about what Harry was doing with two miniature models of himself, especially when one was dressed in drag and the other like a girl. His hands were about to reveal the stupid conscience or whatever, they were opening, it was practically in slow motion and his hands were open…
"Well, Harry, guess you weren't lying," Fred said. 'We thought it was something that would be hazardous to our health. Sorry, mate."
Harry looked at his hands. He drew his breath in sharply.
His hands were open and there was nothing there.
Drag... feminine... Harry strongly suspected that his next 'side' to show up would be the one he liked to call 'deranged headless chicken.'
