CHAPTER TWENTY: Of Drunken Myspace Pranks

NOTE FROM NEGLIGENT AUTHOR: I transferred universities... so my life lately has been a struggle to find my niche. Still working on it. However, it has led to writer's block... which also would accompany my usual spree of sheer laziness. This chapter isn't much, but I just felt the need to update. Forgive me if it sucks.

DISCLAIMER: I continue to include these, on the off chance you decide to sue me for not including these. Don't be that person.

R. Lestrange, Nott Sr., Yaxley and a couple of dementors were engaging in their favorite and usual Friday night tradition: having a couple of brews at The Bloody Corridor; a favorite pub in Knockturn Alley. Several of the dementors were dancing eerily with other dark patrons

... eager to find someone drunk enough to kiss them. Nott Sr., Lestrange and Yaxley sat at the bar with the remaining dementors, drinking their shitty lives of servitude away.

"Hey, hey... you... Dementor..." Lestrange said, sloppily tapping his drinking buddy on the shoulder. The Dementor looked perplexed. "How can you drink...? Do you even have like, a face? Do you have one? Do you?"

Nott Sr. budded in, louder than he would have liked, loud enough the ghouls on the other side of the bar could hear, loud enough the author had to use caps lock. "YOU CAN'T JUST ASK THAT!"

The dementor smiled from under his cloak, "Watch" he put the beer to his mouth and slowly drank until the mug was empty. "Mmm, mmm good."

After an hour or so more of fraternizing with bar trash, and making fun of their fearless leader, Lord Voldemort, Yaxley developed a seemingly funny plan that if discovered, could lead to very painful curses. "Let's prank the Dark Lord."

The dementors chuckled, burped, and Dementor 1 (who everyone seemed to call Lewis), quickly evacuated to the bathroom to throw up. The rest eagerly listened to Yaxley.

"Well, you know how our Myspace is obsessed with Lord Voldemort, right?"

Everyone looked blankly. Lewis the Dementor (who made a speedy return) scowled "I can't believe you used the 'I swear to drunk I'm not god' joke, and changed the words to apply to this story."

Yaxley continued. "Let's make a fake myspace and hit on him! Mwuahahaha."

A chorus of "Muwhahaha" echoed the dimly lit establishment. Even the bartender couldn't resist the temptation to join in.

TWO HOURS LATER

Lord Voldemort was pondering over his latest acquisition -- an excerpt from the Quibbler that rumored his re-existence. Luckily the Quibbler was infamous for being disreputable. Voldemort would not want news of his resurgence to happen in the form of the printing press. He sat, at his computer, with some program called Microsoft Word 2003, trying to brainstorm plans for his second coming.

He contemplating walking on water, and turning water into wine, and immediately ruled it out after going to and finding out such things have already been done. Yes. It would have to involve murder. Destruction. Something on a grand scale like the wrecking of the Quiddich World Cup,

perhaps he would terrorize Gringotts.

Thinking made his brain hurt. He "x-ed" out of Microsoft Word and logged into Myspace, hoping for formulation of a plan to magically occur.

Instead he saw a "New Message!" alert on the left side of his page. It was from a really large woman, with curly black hair, possibly a slight moustache and breasts bigger than some small countries. The message read:

"saw ur myspace and your looking good. we should talk i am looking to meet new people and you seem reealy interesting and hot. how big is your penis?"

Voldemort felt a familiar bubble of disgust form in his gut, and wished he could distribute Unforgivable Curses via internet file. How dare somebody send him such ludicrous messages. He hit reply and decided to play along, however, in hopes it would yield him a chance for humiliating this strange muggle.

"I want to meet you too. I have never seen a more attractive specimen in my life."

TWO MINUTES LATER

... at the Lestrange's chalet, an eruption of laughter coursed throughout the room, upon receiving the Dark Lord's response.

"What a tool." Lewis said, still laughing.

Thanks for reading, everybody... despite my lack of consistent updates : )

Love,

Jaye.