A/N: Hey everyone! I thought I'd take a little break from my other fic to write something completely random and hopefully humorous.

A special thanks to Lady Jarine, who came up with the idea for the commonly known version of the story (you'll see in a sec), and the musicals at McDonald's (you should read her fic on that).

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (including Voldemort and his Death Eaters), Death, crackers, McDonald's, Dr. Seuss's The Grinch, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Star Wars.

By the Way: I have not abandoned my other fic, but it's summer vacation and I'm relaxing. I should have Chapter 19 of One Last Hope up shortly.

Enjoy!

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The Death Eater Club

Many people believe the name for You-Know-Who's followers came to be when one day Death itself came to pay them a visit, because they were having a party and being much to loud. You-Know-Who's followers decided then that to serve their Lord, they would eat Death, symbolizing their unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord. Or maybe they were just stupid.

But I am here today to tell you that that is not how Voldemort's band of misfit followers earned its name. No, this is the real story…

Dun dun dun…

Francis, what are you doing?

Oh, sorry, I thought it was a dramatic moment. I did what had to be done.

Pay no heed to Francis, my made-up editor. He has no appreciation for the flow of a story…Come to think of it, why did I hire him?

Because I'm made-up?

Oh, yes, that's right.

Anyway, how it really went was that the Death Eaters existed long before Voldemort found them. Back then, of course, they were called the Death Eater Club, which sounded much less menacing, which meant that Voldemort would later be obliged to change the name.

The group was an unusual one, because the only thing these poor losers had in common was that they liked the same kind of crackers. But they desperately wanted to form a club, you see, so they wouldn't feel so alone anymore. Well, that and they were bored.

Now, these crackers that they liked so much were simply delicious, which was probably why they liked them so much. They came up with a name for their club by looking at the cracker package's slogan, which read: Crackers so good, you could die.

Admittedly, this was a very bad slogan, but they didn't care, the crackers were so good. They decided that if the crackers were so good you could die, then they were in fact eating death, and thus came up with the name "Death Eater Club", because by Legal Club Rules, the word "club" had to be entered in the name, otherwise it was not a real club.

Hey, don't look at me! I didn't make up the Legal Club Rules, and the Death Eaters were really that stupid.

Anyway, the story really begins when Voldemort, newly almost-immortal, decided he needed a gang. Now, slowly this idea progressed towards having a band of followers who feared him above all else and would do his every bidding, but originally it was just going to be a gang.

At first Voldemort tried to gather people together using a clever combination of posters, pamphlets, and Macdonald's musical productions, but his efforts were in vain. He found to his frustration that everyone was already in a club. But then he had an idea. Voldemort had a wonderful, awful idea. He would just become the president of an already-existing club. But now he had to find just the right one.

And so the next day he started holding auditions. Club after club came in, but none of them would serve his purposes. All of them already had something to be obsessed with, like hiking or listening to music that made you deaf, or some Slayer of the Vampires named Buffy, and would therefore never be persuaded by his long-winded speeches about the uselessness of Muggles that the Dark side was the way to go. There was even one group who was deeply convinced that fear lead to anger, anger lead to hate, and hate lead to the Dark Side of the Force, whatever that was, something they were very much against. It seemed hopeless.

But then one club came in that seemed not to care about anything except a certain brand of crackers they would die for. He sensed that their minds were weak, and so he would have no trouble making them evil. Soon Voldemort had seized control of the company that made the crackers, and so this Death Eater Club had no choice but to surrender to him. And now he has poisoned their minds, banned their beloved crackers, and changed their name.

Gasp!

Shut up, Francis.

And there you have it, the story of how the Death Eaters received their name. You now feel sorry for poor Harry Potter, battling enemies and looking for Horcruxes, when all the while he could have Voldemort's followers on his side, if only he offered them crackers.

Do you think we should tell him? You know, to help him out and save the world and stuff?

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Nah.

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A/N: And voila! It's stupid, I know, but that's really the whole point, you know. Sorry if it wasn't quite funny, but hey, I try.

If you could now do me the favour of reviewing, whether you liked it or not, that would be absolutely wonderful. Oh, and you should check out my other fic too, if you please. :)