CHAPTER THIRTEEN: JK, JK, WTF! Peace out!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeahyeah, I've been gone from fanfiction for quite some time. Personal crap, mostly consisting of me being a lazy git. It's, like always, nice to be back with an update. Hope you think it's okay.
DISCLAIMER: I am J.K. Rowling. JK JK JK! (Oh, that's funny).
Lord Voldemort, in all his sinister glory, was a tad bit depressed. He battled his depression with extended hours on myspace. His cunning plan to track Weasley and Potter via profile had not been going over very well. Ron never updated. So he spent all his time on Myspace, constantly refreshing and checking. No luck.
For a brief period of time, it had consumed him, and the other Death Eaters were starting to take notice. Granted, they all knew it was strange he spent time on Myspace to begin with… but this time it was different. He started to talk weird. There was one instance, reported by Mr. Zabini, which left Zabini and the rest of the Death Eaters perplexed for quite some time.
Zabini: Can I have a word with you, Master?
Voldemort: Hmm? Wats good, son?
Zabini: Uh, never mind.
Then came the strange bulletins with misspelled words, and the time he accidentally caught himself spelling his name: "VoLd3m0rt!"
Lucius, who was usually very spacey and tolerant of many things, was getting annoyed. They would have to host an intervention. This was ultimately decided when Voldemort told him to "Peace out." Lucius put himself in charge of this mission.
Narcissa made Apple Fritters, crumb cake and a keish and set it on a coffee table near some futons. Lucius had owled the Death Eaters several days before – all were in favor of ending the reign of Lord Voldemort's chat speak problem. They sat around, anxiously, waiting for their Master to Apparate. In order to lure him, Snape convinced The Dark Lord that Hermione Granger had been captured, and brought to Malfoy Mansion.
When the Dark Lord apparated, at last, and saw no sign of the Granger girl… he was infuriated. He looked at the Apple Fritters. The futons. Then the vast assembly of cloaked followers on said futons. He became angry.
"W-T-F?" Said Voldemort, in disgust. "I don't even like Apple Fritters."
"Sorry" Narcissa replied. "Sit down, Master?"
Voldemort was mad and demanded answers. "I demand answers. What is going on here?"
"This is an intervention." One of the death eaters spoke up.
"- Yes! For your problem."
Voldemort twitched in a spasm of anger. "Wat are u talking about? I don't abuse alcohol…"
"No. But you're giving the English Language a real arse-kicking" Snape replied, coldly.
"Say wut?"
"See! He just did it!" Mr. Goyle said, pointing.
Voldemort was confused.
Narcissa nicely explained it. "Master, you've been adopting a very Myspace-esque way of talking lately. It's very Muggle. And it bothers us and looks bad as your position of Dark Lord. You need to stop."
" Hmmm."
"Do you know what we're talking about?"
"Vaguely" The Dark Lord replied. "I will try to stop."
"We want you to go to therapy" piped up McNair.
"No 'effing way."
Snape looked annoyed. "Master…mind your chat speak or we're taking away the laptop."
"I meant: most certainly not." Voldemort retorted, bitter at the condescending tone.
"So," Narcissa said, offering some crumb cake "We will work on this problem?"
Voldemort, not seeing another option, ate the crumb cake and agreed.
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Hope to hear from you guys!