Thank you so much for all those great reviewers out there! You shall not burn in hell!
I'm just happy that this story that I've started writing not three days ago is such a success. Hopefully it'll continue to be as funny as you guys like it to be.
DC: I especially do not own Potter Puppet Pals. Or Italy. Or Harrods.
Colto! (Italian)
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It was a video camera. As Voldemort blew away the coating of cardboard dust, he could see it's spectacular modeling. He stroked it gently. Now, that Potter kid would die.
"Sir," Snape entered the room, wearing a flowery apron and holding a tray of tarts, still steaming from the oven, "Narcissa and I are going into the Harrods in town. We seem to be running low our Oolong Spice Mix, and you know I need that to wake up in the morning."
Voldemort glared at him icily. "Snape, we need you, if my plot is going to work."
"I'm sure it won't take long. I'll just put these strawberry tarts away and be gone for a little less than an hour."
"I – You – Oh, fine." The Dark Lord amended, even though Snape and Narcissa were already out the front door. "I suppose the Potter kid will be able to live another hour or two."
Impatient, Voldemort decided to pace as he waited for them to return. After a few minutes, he had to sit down to rest his legs.
The video camera was taunting him. Pick me up! The little voice said, Hold me! Love me! Show me attention! Show me you care! Listen to me –
Wait a second. That sounded like the ruddy conscience again. Didn't those things ever die? Voldemort looked into his mind. It was a one-room ranch. The conscience had fallen into the latrine. Please! Get me out of here!
You wish!
But if you don't you'll do something really stupid!
The Pimp'n Dark Lord is never stupid.
No, wait - !
But Voldemort had already cranked Sk8er Boi so high that his physical skull was vibrating slightly.
Now… He turned toward the video camera. "Where were we?"
Ooh, an uomo squisto! Gradisco