Plan 487: In Which a Water Cooler Sets off Revenge
If you ever think your life is boring, try being locked in a dungeon for awhile.
It's dull, damp, smelly, and there is nothing to do. I repeat: NOTHING.
For three days now, I've been locked away in the dungeon. And unfortunately, though the baby-gate at the top of the stairs can be breached, the cells down here are much more difficult to open. Forget about using a wand; they take that too. And since I don't have wonderful lock picking abilities (goal for when I get out of here? LEARN THIS SKILL) I'm kinda stuck.
Now, you may be wondering how I got into this mess? Did the Dark Lord finally discover what I've been up to? Did someone rat me out? Did the Order fall and somehow I got caught in the middle of it all? No. No, it was nothing like that. I'm not cool enough for that, I guess.
Instead, the Voldemort 'heard' me swearing as I walked past him down the hall. Apparently, he can't get inside my head to figure out that I've been messing with him, hating his guts as well as most all Death Eaters, and conspiring with Harry Potter and Friends to make his life hell. But he can break into my thoughts to hear the words "goddamn, son of a biscuit, what the hell are you ON? UGH!"
The surprising thing is that I wasn't even cussing at him. No, honestly! I was mad because Pettigrew and a couple other guys infiltrated my office. He put up a water cooler guys. A WATER COOLER. You know what this means? Have you seen the movies? Chats by the water coolers! Lame jokes! Talking about sports…or family…or…UGH!
I don't do well with people. Well, scratch that. I don't do well with idiots. I'm surrounded by morons on a daily basis. This is my office. It's my space of relative peace and quiet. Get the fuck out!
Not to mention that Pettigrew was being a dick about it all. Being "in" with the Dark Lord apparently gives him that right…so he would stand there day after day, making snide comments and insults about my work and person. You know what, I'm not THAT bad at everything. You want to know some strengths? I read extensively and can think of ridiculous plans that seem to come out alright. And I'm pretty good with animals. Sure, magic isn't really my forte, but I get along alright. But apparently, I fail on eight hundred levels and that's just before breakfast.
You can see my frustration, yes? Well Voldy couldn't. He didn't get too mad; something about me finally growing a backbone or something. Huh. But he did order me down here for a few days. So now I get to be furious in the dark and cold.
Here comes Macnair to let me out. He's grinning sadistically. I'm pissed off at the world. There will be hell to pay. Annoying hell to pay.
After being released, I decided the first stop I would make would be for some saran wrap. Isn't this stuff great? It clings to stuff…which sounds lame, but if you're stuck eating leftovers for days at a time, this at least keeps them somewhat edible. It's great!
Also on my list is spray paint. In lovely bright colors. We're talking florescent green, yellow, hell, I threw in some pink, just for fun.
And finally, some lard. Ok, ew. I honestly didn't think I'd find this stuff, but apparently the Walmart here has everything. I'm not much for this part of the plan, but hard-wood floors man…it has to be done.
The only danger of this plan is that I could get in trouble for it. I mean, I am the recent jailbird of Death Eater headquarters. It's not like it was a big secret. I figure I can go along with it, though. I'll prank myself. It seems silly, I guess, but hey, who said revenge has to be completely logical? Anyway, isn't there some sort of philosophy that says that the need of one is less than the needs of many? Well these asses need this…So there.
Time to set up.
Later
It's midnight. All is calm. All is quiet.
Silent night, you're about to be blown to smithereens!
Taking a deep breath, the firecrackers were lit. And all hell broke loose.
As soon as the loud snapping started lights went on throughout the bedroom wing of headquarters, as people stumbled out of bed and ran out into the hall to see what was going on.
They promptly ran into paint covered saran wrap, securely clinging to their doorframes. I gotta say the colors of the spray paint were a delightful choice. I never would have guessed the Malfoy's looked good in bright green. And Voldemort looks lovely in pink. Who knew?
Of course, there was screaming and yelling, as people ran into the cling wrap. The paint made it hard to see, of course, and the saran wrap wrapping them up couldn't have helped.
So when their feet hit the lard covered floor, there were the wonderful sounds of WHOMP, WHOMP, THUD. They couldn't get to their feet either.
Have you ever seen twenty or so Death Eaters plus their fearless leader flailing around helplessly in their bedclothes at midnight? It's hilarious. On so many levels.
Not all the Death Eaters had the same fate. Some had the presence of mind not to walk out their doors. They stood watching the scenario unfold in front of them. A few were trying very hard not to snicker. It was a glorious sight. The only downside was that I had to join the flailing mess of Death Eaters on the floor. Hooray for diverting suspicion!
And you know what? It wasn't THAT bad. You get to get messy and slide around. Kinda enjoyable! I didn't need to act like a complete loser, though. Just a slip and fall, that's all it took.
There was, however, one door that did not suffer my wrath of saran. And that door was Pettigrew's. He stood outside his room, watching the mess before him. And as he and the Dark Lord locked eyes, I could tell that Voldy was going to have a nice chat with Wormtail over there.
Payback is a bitch. Enjoy your stay in the dungeon, Pettigrew! And don't trip on the baby-gate on the way down!
…Ok, do. Please. I'm not that nice. MUWHAHAHA!