CHAPTER NINETEEN: VIA BLOG.
Disclaimer: Since last chapter, I've actually decided to go with the story that I do, in fact, own all Harry Potter related materials. I figured I'll be able to get away with this, undetected and convincingly. Did I fool you?! : )
Author's note: Hi. Me again. Missed me? I missed you all! I was feeling discontented with the path of The Dark Lord Gets a Myspace, so I decided to kind of mock myself. Whatever. Two updates! That's gotta be some sort of personal record. Review with some suggestions you'd like to see soon.
Lord Voldemort noted several things about their adventures and decided to write a Myspace blog about it.
We (my minions and I) do the same things – day in, day out. Every chapter I am surly and because of this, someone or something dies... whether it be a plumber or a bass. If no one dies, there is always an instance where I feel the need to shout "CRUCIO." It's dramatic and painful. While I can kill a plumber, I can never destroy Harry Potter. That'd just be TOO good to be true. It'd be s easy to kill him, you know. Send Lucius to some lower class urban development & pay some commonplace vandal to off him in his sleep. That's how the seventh book should have ended. Oh, another thing, Guitar Hero? Honestly. We need a new game, perhaps Strip Poker. Granted, the joy in strip poker is the fact I am frighteningly pale and awkward when naked. Every adventure/chapter, whichever you prefer, I eat weird food because the author thinks it's funny when I eat bagel bites. It's not, okay? I'm lactose intolerant! I had cramps all night which interfered with my menacing appearance. The Death Eaters NEVER understand my myspace obsession, but they ALWAYS log on my account. Hello? You're rich and you're evil. Kill a muggle, steal their Mac, or fucking wear muggle clothes and go to Best Buy. The point is: there is no way I can possibly beat up Myspace Tom, or take over his bloody webpage. I have no time for his nonsense. I should write blogs more often...Great, someone is yelling "Master" really loudly from the other room... imbeciles...
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Voldemort shouted, at Narcissa who summoned him from the other side of Crabbe's basement.
"Sorry, nevermind, just seeing if you wanted to do two-player on Guitar Hero. I'm assuming that's a no, Master."
"Correct." Voldemort resumed staring down his computer screen, and then applied pressure to the Dark Mark on his arm. Immediately the followers came into the basement, one by one. "Welcome, eaters of death. I would like to start off today's meeting with a few beers and a game of strip poker."
The collective group looked mortified, especially Fenrir, who wasn't comfortable with his body image. "You've gone mad."
Lucius was very excited. "I'll get the cards!"
The rest used a summoning charm, summoned three kegs and sat down, hoping Voldemort had a reason for this odd behavior.
Ok. I did it. I summoned minions, kegs and playing cards. We'll play for galleons.
Until next time;
Your Master, Lord and Evil Advisor...
Voldemort.