I own nothing.

The Two Princes of Hogwarts

-Chapter Five:

"Hey Harry." The unexpected voice almost ruined Harry's potions homework as his quill skidded across the parchment. He shot a furious glare at the man standing before him. "Sorry," Cedric replied, his expression so distraught that Harry felt his ire quickly draining. The older student's expression changed sharply. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Your eyes," Cedric stated in annoyance.

"Oh," Harry replied, habitually reaching up and flinching as his fingers brushed bruised tissue. "Had a little sparring match after classes."

"One that you lost I suppose," Cedric said. Beside Harry, Hermione preened, though the new scar that had been a split lip an hour before rather ruined her smug smile.

It was truly odd how many times Hermione got punched in the mouth during sparring. Even the Inevitable threw the odd haymaker in there on occasion.

"It's not about winning or losing," Harry said firmly, "it's about improving."

"He lost," Hermione confirmed before he had even stopped speaking. Harry closed his bruised eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh at that.

"So, what are you doing here Cedric?" he asked, glancing around the Gryffindor common room. "Actually, how are you here?"

"I'm the Head Boy, I go where I must and do what I must in service of the school," Cedric said simply. It was a good thing those words came from the youngest Diggory or they might have been threatening. "Anyway, my dad's here and I figured you two could meet before dinner."

"Your dad came all the way here?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Actually, he and his boss at the law firm are both here," Cedric admitted. "It seems like they were waiting to hear from you."

"Why are you meeting with solicitors?" Arkin asked. "My mom told me that if me and my friends ever had trouble, I should call her."

"Sure," Harry replied to be nice. He very much doubted the woman ever actually meant for Arkin to call her, but the boy looked so earnest. "I'd appreciate that."

"Okay," Arkin said happily. "I'll call her after. . ." he trailed off as he looked around the room, probably trying to locate the phone.

"We'll take you up to the owlery later," Ron said.

"Alright." Harry climbed to his feet and an eyebrow rose as Hermione joined him.

"I told you I was coming," she stated.

"You did," Harry agreed. "Lead on." The Head Boy led them out into hallway and down the stairs.

"What's this I hear about a detention?" he ventured. Harry fought down the urge to laugh, though a few giggles leaked out. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Still, that must be a record."

"Actually, our first detention last year happened at lunch our first day," Hermione reported. "We beat it by a few hours."

"Speaking of detention, are you going to start going to war with the Inevitable again?" Cedric asked. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. They hadn't really considered it.

"I think that was just training for the tournament," Harry stated.

"We should talk to her," Hermione insisted. "We maintain if we fight each other, maybe even fall into patterns. We don't get better. We need her." She let out a long sigh. "Let's be honest, just because there isn't a tournament this year doesn't mean we aren't going to have to fight."

"True."

"Also, why were you guys pretending to do homework back there?" Cedric asked. "You weren't fooling anyone."

"We were doing homework," Harry said in confusion.

"Homework on the day it was assigned?" Cedric pressed. "I'd believe that if it were just Hermione, but the rest of you?"

"It was homework!" Harry insisted. "Homework is awesome! It's like we're normal students at a normal school."

"Every day you stray further from a normal student," Cedric grunted. He stopped in front of a door. "We're here." He pushed a door open and led them into the room beyond.

"Mister Diggory," Harry said happily.

"You can call me Amos," Amos stated. He glanced at Hermione. "Both of you." He turned to the second man in the room. "This is Lysander Steele, my boss."

"Call my Lie," the man in eye-searingly bright green and pink robes announced as he rose and stepped forward to shake Harry and Hermione's hands. "People tell me that Lie Steele is an appropriate name for a solicitor." Harry bit back a laugh at that and Hermione let out a giggle before clamping down on it. "Amos speaks highly of you Mister Potter. I believe you know how much that means."

"Harry," Harry corrected, "and this is my friend Hermione." Lie nodded cheerfully and with introductions done, Harry remembered what they were doing here. He turned in a panic. "I'm so sorry you lost your job Mister Diggory."

"You didn't make me redundant, Harry. You have nothing to apologize for," Amos stated as he waved them toward a series of seats that they all collapsed in.

"You were fired because you believed me," Harry insisted.

"Harry, even if I was made redundant because I believed you, you're forgetting that my own son was there beside you," Amos stated. "I will believe my son over anyone else. I raised that man alongside my glorious wife from birth. My trust in him is complete." Next to Harry, Cedric sat up a little straighter. No one mentioned that his lip trembled a bit at the praise. That would just be rude.

"As is mine," Lie added. "Besides, I know the quality of my friends. You may view it as getting a man fired, I view it as being given an opportunity to hire one of the most amazing men I know and overpay him. . .no matter how much he complains about it."

"I'm not amazing," Amos stated.

"God, sometimes I really want to punch you in your too humble, too kind face," Lie growled.

"I know, right?" Harry asked, glancing at Cedric.

"It is absolutely genetic," Lie stated.

"We're just normal people," Cedric insisted.

"Shut up Cedric," Hermione stated automatically. The none Diggory people in the room shared a laugh as the Diggory people sighed in annoyance.

"So," Harry said finally, "can I put you on retainer Mister Diggory?"

"Amos," Amos corrected, "and Harry, I haven't been a solicitor in years. Lie has given me the opportunity to get back on my feet," he shot the man an annoyed glance, "at an over compensated rate."

"My firm. I get to decide what people are worth," Lie stated.

"So, can I put the firm on retainer?" Harry asked. That drew all the attention back to him. "Look, you saved me from Madame Bones last year Mister Diggory. I want you on my side."

"I didn't save you," Amos insisted. "I just communicated that you did nothing wrong, which you actually hadn't."

"Well, he's doing nothing wrong now and the Ministry doesn't seem happy about it," Lie commented. "I would be happy to take you on as a client Harry. Amos will be your primary point of contact."

"I'm not qualified!" Amos insisted.

"My firm. I get to decide who is qualified," Lie stated. "Is that to your liking Harry?"

"It is," Harry said quickly.

"Client approves," Lie said simply. "Now, I believe the Ministry has been saying some very hurtful things about Harry." Lie's voice dropped a few octaves as he spoke and his smile became much bigger and much less friendly. "Things that a government has no right to say about a minor." He turned to Amos. "I give you your crown. Go out conquering and to conquer." The older Diggory let out a long-suffering sigh at that, though he did nod with a grim smirk afterwards.

"You seem rather eager to attack the government," Hermione commented.

"Fudge may have been rather rude in rebuking my sister when they were at Hogwarts," Lie explained. "Don't worry her tastes have improved with age and experience."

"That seems a little. . ."

"I am a solicitor that owns his own firm," Lie interrupted. "I am allowed, and expected, to be petty, vengeful and spiteful. I would enjoy this even if they hadn't wronged my dearest friend from my days at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Harry said in understanding. "You're a Hufflepuff."

"Slytherin actually," Lie corrected. "We may not be as lofty minded as the badgers, but we do hold a grudge like they do. The only difference is, we very much like to act on our grudges as active participants instead of passively."

"Revenge," Hermione stated.

"Such an ugly word!" Lie gasped dramatically. "I prefer justice! No one can be mad when you seek justice."

"Oh, you and Hermione are going to get along famously," Harry stated.

"Thank you," Lie returned, giving the girl an inquisitive glance and nodding with approval at whatever he saw.

"I don't think that was a compliment," Cedric commented.

"My firm," Lie chirped, "I get to decide what is and isn't a compliment."

(:ii:)

Poppy glared at her aide as the man stepped in front of her professor's table. "Wipe the smirk off your face."

"I'm not smirking," Harry said with what sounded suspiciously like genuine confusion. Poppy's eyes narrowed as the young man reached up to touch his own face. "Oh, yeah, I am. Sorry."

"What's this I hear about detention?" Poppy demanded.

"I was late to class," Harry said happily. "I'm not going to be able to help you tonight." Poppy remained silent and stared at the young man. Her ability to sweat a student was second to none in the history of Hogwarts. The young man wilted under her glare. "Uh. . .sorry?"

"This is the second time in two years that you've received a detention on your first day," she stated.

"And it worked out great last time," Harry said. Poppy's jaw dropped to argue, but instead she sighed in annoyance. He wasn't wrong. His first detention last year had scored her his assistance.

"I cannot allow you to be my aide if you continue to cause trouble," she said finally.

"I still get way less detentions than normal," Harry insisted. Poppy chose not to tell him that she had. . .warned Severus that she would investigate any detention he administered and she would be very angry if she found the reasons wanting.

Oddly, that had caused the last Potter to receive no detentions from the man.

"See that you continue that pattern," Poppy said finally.

"Yes Madame Pomfrey."

"I will contact you if I need assistance," Poppy stated loud enough for the whole table to hear. Dolores's mouth opened, but closed as Poppy's eyes met hers. The toadish woman nodded quickly in acquiescence. Harry nodded and his eyes darted to the woman sitting beside Poppy.

"Professor McGonagall," he began, "we were wondering if you were interested in continuing our after class extra credit."

"It seems you've already begun," Minerva stated dryly. Harry laughed awkwardly, his bruised eyes darting about as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "I believe I saw a split lip on Miss Granger?"

"Well, you know. . ." Harry trailed off and they all just kind of accepted that there wouldn't be a clarification after a few moments of silence.

"Anyway, I believe that continuing our training would be an excellent idea. I've even drafted Fillius into it." Harry's smile dropped immediately. He frowned as patted his stomach. "Mister Potter?"

"Sorry. I just had a bizarre feeling of utter terror," Harry admitted. "Huh. That's weird."

"That's because you have excellent survival instincts Mister Potter," Fillius called from further down the table. Harry patted his stomach again.

"Huh. It can get worse. Neat." He glanced at the short man. "You're above the dragon, but way below the time when all of you kidnapped most of my friends and stuck them at the bottom of the lake." Fillius bowed his head as if being praised and raised his goblet in salute.

"That wasn't all of us," Minerva growled, her eyes darting towards the suddenly contrite looking Headmaster. "If some of us knew that was happening, we would have had some choice words." Harry looked surprised, but smiled at that.

"Thank you, Professor."

(:ii: )

Draco sighed in aggravation as the last Potter walked away from the professors' table. "Draco?" Gregory ventured.

"It just isn't fun when Potter makes himself into an unrepentant trouble maker," Draco stated. "Takes all the sport out of it." Gregory chuckled at that. "He was late?"

"No," Vincent stated suddenly. Draco frowned at that. His other associate rarely volunteered anything.

"What did he do?" he asked.

"The rumor is that she gave him detention for drinking in class," Vincent stated. "He tried to get a detention for being late, but she just took points."

"Drinking?" Draco asked. "Wait, his medication?"

"Yes," Vincent stated.

"Where did you hear these rumors?" Gregory asked.

"You'd be surprised what you hear when you don't speak," Vincent stated.

"But Potter said. . ."

"He lied," Vincent interrupted. The large young man glanced around awkwardly.

"Please continue," Draco pressed.

"I don't know anything," Vincent said firmly.

"What do you think?" Draco ventured. Vincent's features schooled themselves into a frown.

"I think," he began slowly, "if Potter had said that he was in trouble for taking his medicine, the other professors would have stepped in. You can't stop a student from taking medicine, confiscating it even. That's absurd."

"Why would Potter lie?" Draco wondered. "What are his goals?" He frowned as realization washed over him. "Oh. He wants to get her alone. Oh." A laugh forced its way out of the blonde. "Oh, dear. How horrible for her."

"The lady who took over the position that consistently tries to kill him," Gregory added. "The lady who has, allegedly, been leading the Ministry's efforts to destroy his reputation."

"I honestly didn't think Potter was smart enough to lay a trap like that," Draco admitted. "Underestimating the enemy. That's a humbling right there. I won't forget it.""

"Professor Snape has always wanted the Defense position," Gregory commented.

"He has," Draco admitted.

"The position that Potter clears out yearly," Vincent rumbled. Draco frowned at that. He very much liked the man and didn't wish him an agonizing fate or an agonizing death.

"Perhaps I should speak with him."

(:ii:)

Harry was proud that he didn't kick the door open as he made his entrance. Though he did put a little too much pep into it and the door slammed into the wall. "Hello Professor!" he announced as he strode into the room. The woman inside looked utterly terrified at his sudden entrance. Strangely, that just made Harry happier. He glanced back and subtly nodded to his friends standing outside as the door slowly closed. Ron grimly nodded back before they were separated.

"Good evening~" Harry sang happily as he loosened up his shoulders.

"Good evening, Mister Potter," Dolores stated. Harry nodded and made his way to her desk.

"What would you like me to do Professor?" he asked.

"You will be copying lines," Dolores stated, gesturing to the parchment and the long, black quill lying on it.

"Copying lines?" Harry asked in disappointment. "Is that all? Are you sure you don't want to try to teach me a real lesson? I was late, you know? This is your first detention with a student. You need to make a statement."

"You will learn a lesson," Dolores stated firmly. She made her way to the chalk board and tapped it with her wand. The words "I must not tell lies," spread across the surface. "You seem to enjoy spreading rumors. This must come to an end."

"What rumors?" Harry asked in confusion. "I haven't even been in this country in months."

"The rumors that He Who Must Not Be Named is back," Dolores stated.

"He isn't back," Harry said. "Well, I mean, not yet again. I killed him again last year. I'll admit, burning didn't work the first time, so I don't know why I tried it again. Mea culpa. That is on me. I got lazy and went for convenience. Next time I'll try something different. I have plans. Maybe drowning. That's like the oppositive of burning, right? It'll take some set up, but I think it's worth the effort. I'm pretty sure. . ."

"He never returned," Dolores interrupted with a snarl, ignoring his rambling.

"Yes, he did," Harry corrected. "He returned a couple of times. My first year he was stuck on the back of Quirrell's head. My second year, that wasn't actually him, but it kind of was. I think? He was in a horcrux. Maybe. Was he the horcrux or was the diary? Could it be both?" Harry frowned and paused in his rambling to glance at Dolores. "Do you know anything about horcruxes?"

"Is that with a w or an h?" Dolores asked.

"I have no idea," Harry admitted. "Anyway, I stabbed the horcrux with a basilisk fang and that seemed to fix that thing. I mean, he said I destroyed it." Harry paused and pulled out a notebook. He scrawled "basilisk venom" and put it away. "Sorry. As I was saying, last year he was a flabby baby and I pitched him into a burning grave. Again, my fault for trying burning for the second time. I should have tried something else. This time I will."

"He has never returned," Dolores insisted. Harry's eyebrow rose at that.

"Okay?" he ventured.

"The lines Mister Potter," Dolores snapped.

"I'm not going to sign anything," Harry said. He had learned that lesson last year. Dolores just glared and pointed to the parchment. Harry shrugged and took his seat. He took up the quill and copied the line on the board. Then he gasped as the skin on the back of his hand split open. He stared at it in shock as it healed over leaving reddened flesh behind. He stared at the words on the parchment and noted their crimson hue.

He copied the line again, this time pressing even harder and his flesh rendered itself for the second time.

"Fascinating," he admitted, before taking the long black quill in both hands and snapping it in half. Crimson fluid poured from both halves and the back of his hand as it refused to heal again. Dolores gasped in horror.

"That was a priceless artifact!" she whined.

"Oops," Harry admitted guilelessly. "Really? Giving such a thing to a teenager? Don't you know how clumsy we are?" He drew his wand and waved it over the back of his left hand. The simple clotting charm did nothing to stem the flow of blood. Harry took a deep breath and plunged the glowing tip into the laceration on his hand. He stared the woman down as the back of his hand burst into flame and the scent of burning flesh filled the room.

Harry raised his hand to his mouth and blew out the flames without breaking eye contact.

"I think that's enough for tonight, don't you Professor?" The woman stared at him, slack jawed, as he rose from his seat to tower over her. Her mouth opened and closed a few times without making a sound. "Ah. You're right." He glanced at the spilled blood on the parchment and her desk. "Clean up." A quick wave of his wand caused all the crimson fluid to burst into emerald flames. Harry leaned forward over her desk, ignoring the flickering flames as the professor scooted back in her seat. "We're done here. Aren't we?"

(:ii:)

"Do you understand Mister Crabbe?" Poppy ventured as she stared up at the large young man.

"I do," Vincent replied.

"Not everything is bloody trauma," Poppy continued. "Some of the hardest things to fix that you will see are miscast spells and incorrectly made potions, though the second is rare in this school. Severus is an able teacher. Your ability to diagnose a problem will save many more lives than your ability to reattach a limb or put insides back where they belong."

"I understand," Vincent stated. Poppy nodded, trying to put aside her bias against Slytherin. It was just unprofessional to have such beliefs and Poppy had long ago sworn to protect all that were in her charge.

"I wish Mister Potter was here to give you an opinion you might believe as a fellow student," she groaned. "He has been with me long enough to know that boring is the best thing that could happen to us. I can't believe he was late to a class." Vincent prided himself on being unreadable, but that stood no chance in the face on an experienced healer. "Mister Crabbe?" the woman ventured.

Vincent would never claim to be a wise man, but he was an experienced man. He knew how to survive. He knew how to not make an enemy. He knew when to remain silent, but also when to say everything that was on his mind.

"Potter was put in detention for drinking from his flask, not for being late," Vincent stated.

"His medication?" Poppy snapped.

"That is the rumor. I know nothing further," Vincent said firmly. Oh yes. He knew how to keep himself out of the line of fire. The school healer's face was apocalyptic in its rage.

"Put this on," she snapped, forcing a pin into his hand. "If you need me before we return, tap it with your wand."

"Yes Madame Pomfrey," Vincent replied. The witch stormed out and Vicent took up the clipboard and quill.

Curses dodged. Desires obtained. A good night all things considered.

(:ii:)

"And just what are you lot doing?" Minerva demanded as she stared at the two Gryffindors plus one that were hunched over next to the door leading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Well," Ron began. "We're just. . .guessing? I guess there's no problem."

"We're here for the same reason you're here," Luna corrected.

"She is?" Ron asked.

"She is," Luna confirmed.

"That's nice," Hermione stated.

"I don't need to justify myself to students," Minerva snapped. The three stared at her for a long moment before her defenses crumbled. "Have you heard anything?"

"We haven't heard the safe word," Luna admitted.

"How long has he been in there?" Minerva asked.

"About fifteen minutes," Ron reported. He glanced over her shoulder and his eyes went wide. Minerva turned and saw Poppy storming up the hallway bringing with her the tides of war.

"Oh, that's bad," Minerva whispered.

"Move," Poppy growled. The all dodged out of the way as the healer swung her wand and the door that they had been next to flew off its hinges and into the room beyond. She stormed in and they followed her. Inside Harry already had his wand pointed at them as the professor's desk behind him blazed with emerald flames.

"Oh, hello. . ." he trailed off as he saw Poppy's face and quickly sidestepped out of the way until his back was planted against the wall.

"What is this I hear about you denying a student medication?" Poppy asked, her voice professionally calm even as she towered over Dolores through the flames on the desk.

"She what?" Minerva demanded, turning to look at the three students behind her. They all found themselves staring at anything that wasn't her.

"He was attempting to drink in my glass," Dolores snapped, though she was cowering in her chair.

"It is medicine!" Poppy roared. "I prescribed it myself on the suggestion of a highly qualified specialist from Saint Mungo's. You have no right interfere with a student's healthcare."

"Okay," Ron stated quietly as he stepped around Minerva and extinguished the fire that had been starting to spread. Then he shuffled himself over and joined Harry against the wall to make sure everyone knew he wanted no part in what was happening.

"It's alcohol!" Dolores insisted.

"It's a tincture of Wolfsbane!" Poppy snapped. She turned on Harry. "Give me your flask."

"She has it," Harry stated. Poppy went dangerously still for a moment and Minerva shuffled back a step, running into the two younger witches who had promptly decided she would make a good meat shield. The healer turned slowly to look at the woman.

"You confiscated his medicine?" she hissed. Dolores had no answer for her. "Give it here." Dolores fumbled in her desk and produced the container. Poppy snatched it out of her hands. The tense silence was broken as Vincent's voice emanated from the pins on Harry and Poppy's robes.

"Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes?" Poppy gritted.

"We have a patient. She's vomiting and running a fever. I gave her a bucket."

"Excellent," Poppy stated, still staring down the shorter woman. "Good work Mister Crabbe. We will be there shortly. Let's go Harry."

"Yes ma'am," Harry squeaked.

"That lunatic set my desk on fire!" Dolores shrieked, finally bringing the conversation to the fire that had been raging when they walked in.

"We don't use that word here," Ron stated, moving to stand protectively next to Luna.

"I don't mind," the blonde said quietly.

"We do," Hermione announced as she stood on Luna's other side. The younger student smiled and bashfully ground her toe into the flagstones.

"Actually, Professor," Harry corrected. "I set my blood on fire. That is my right as a magical citizen of this country. I may have been a little dramatic, but I've been victimized with something so small as my signature. I trust you know the laws and will understand."

"Blood?" Minerva demanded. She looked over the student and her eyes zeroed in on the scorched flesh on the back of his left hand. She snatched him up by the wrist and she and Poppy inspected the wound. The words "I must not tell lies" were charred into his flesh.

"Oh, that's nothing to worry about," Harry stated cheerfully with a bright smile, "just a little discipline. Students must be kept in line after. . ."

"I decide what I worry about," Poppy hissed. The last Potter tried to shrink back even as Minerva held him firm.

"She spilled your blood on these marks?" Minerva demanded, staring at the woad blue symbols on his knuckles. Harry's smile returned, a little more tired, but a lot more honest.

"We all know it's going to come to that," he stated. He glanced at Poppy. "We have a patient."

-End

-Uncle's drunken rambles. Ah, much better. The last one was a little short, I thought, but I wanted all these things in one chapter. Ah, Umbridge. I actually prefer the movie version where the sweet-looking lady is an irredeemable child abuser, but we're chasing the books here. Plus, I don't want to think of the actress with what I have planned. Something about a box?

What's in the box?

What's in the booooooooooox?

Please just google it and don't make me date myself. That's been getting less and less fun.

Went out to Harpers Ferry with my family. Both the town and the nearby brewery. Look, I'm as patriotic as someone who doesn't hang a flag from my car until it is in dis-respectful tatters and chant USA while beating cops and waving a defaced flag can be. But sitting on the ground under a warm early autumn sun at that brewery with a cool stone wall at my back, staring out over the Blue Ridge Mountains with my dog's head on my knee and a cold beer in my hand. Yeah. Yeah. That is the most beautiful place on earth. Sorry everywhere else.

USA baby.

I think I could have stayed there the rest of my life and been happy.

You never really love something until it's over and you're looking back at it.

Harpers Ferry the town, also super cool.

I know, Uncle Jack, noted history, gun and historical gun nerd wandering around an old timey arsenal, of course he loved it. How on brand.

First of all, shut up. Second of all, shut up. Third of all, fuck you. . .and shut up.

Anyways, Marine Corps' 247th birthday. Driving to Harpers Ferry we came upon a single LAV-25 cruising down the road. I thought it was part of a convoy, but I guess it was driving to a birthday celebration somewhere to be the cool centerpiece for civilians to gawk at.

I was wearing my old digi-desert fleece and my arm was hanging out the window as we passed. The vic commander looked down at me, I looked up at him, we both nodded and then I flipped him off. He flipped me off and elbowed the gunner. The gunner looked down at me and flipped me off, then I flipped him off.

My mother was very confused by the exchange, but hey, Marines gonna do Marine things.

My favorite birthday memory is chatting up my date and suddenly feeling something dumped on my shoulder. I look down and realized that one of my Marines has been flopped over my shoulder. I turn and 1st Sergeant is standing right behind me.

-1st Sergeant: Deal with this!

-Jack: Wilco dude.

-1st Sergeant: WHAT?

-Jack: On it, 1st Sergeant.

I carried him to his room, dumped him in the tub so he wouldn't vomit everywhere and lose his deposit and then staggered back to my room and passed out.

The next day he was bragging about how much he drank and made it back to his room. Turns out he was conscious enough to be staring down at my feet as I walked and thought they were his feet. My date told me that his legs had been kicking randomly behind me the whole time.

Fuck. I may have had my issues with the Corps, but I do love Marines, especially now that I'm not responsible for them. Those stupid, backstabbing, drunken mother fuckers.

Love you. Fuck you. Good night.

-Uncle Jack

P.S. Donate to Toys 4 Tots. Especially at the twelve to fourteen age range. I don't like kids, but fuck man, kids deserve Christmas presents. Let them be innocent and happy for just a little longer. It won't last forever and they need this.

I can also guarantee you that any money you donate does go to the kids. I got to have a 90s kid shopping rampage at Toys R Us once because of that money. Seriously, running down the aisles with my arm out and shoveling shit into my cart.

It was awesome even if none of that shit was for me.

Also, so Putin apparently tripped down some stairs and shit himself. This might be western propaganda, but for all you laughing at that, I feel that I should tell you something.

Pissing yourself is normal. Shitting yourself is very worrying. It implies spinal damage.

You shouldn't laugh at something like that. . .and who the fuck am I kidding? I'm laughing my ass off.

Here's hoping that bitch fucked his whole spinal cord and lost control of his sphincter so he has to spent the rest of his life shitting in a bag.