Shizzle my uh... My, uh... Oh, screw it.
It's barbeque season again, which means that we, as a people, can be really glad that our computers have spell checkers. This is because our young people are stupid. "But, no!" you say. "My son or daughter is not stupid!" Well, first of all, YOU'RE definitely stupid, because you can't even remember whether you have a son or a daughter. Perhaps you should seek psychiatric help. But I would not bet a single penny that our young people today could SPELL "barbeque". And this is very odd, because they can spend up to eighty-four consecutive hours watching rappers with names like Q-Bong talk to an annoying, repetitive beat. No adult can understand this. In fact, almost NOBODY but our young people can understand it. This is because rappers talk in some sort of code that forces them to move their mouths at the exact speed that the Road Runner moves his legs. You'll hear several dozen verses that just seem to go "Gshfksiasnaiafnajdbsaiand aidfbaoasdjsnsiabdf andoanh!" and you'll understand maybe three words, tops. However, next to you is your fifteen-year-old, just lounging on the couch, absorbing all of this. He can't count up to 120 without getting a severe muscle cramp in his jaw, and somehow he just understands what these people are saying. And the problem is that they're forcing rap music on us. I think it was in December of 2003 that McDonald's started airing rap commercials, and now they have some of the worst commercials on the air right now. Right under Bad Boy, which is under Raymore and Flannigan's, which is under the "every cigarette is doing you damage" stop-smoking ads, etc. You may have seen the Old Navy tunic ads last month in which you can maybe understand 55% of it. And even when you think you've translated everything, it STILL sounds strangely incomprehensible. This is as best as I could translate a part of it:
Wear it with pants (Wear the tunic with your pants)
Built to fit lamps (I think that's what they said)
Busting out of style (God knows)
Like you in a trance (Like you are in a trance)
Wear it over that tiny BA-thing SUIT (Wear it over your bathing suit)
Flow with the tunic (Consult local teenager for explanation)
And look wicked cute (I hereby apologise for those who may have thrown up as a result of reading these lyrics)
It has always been an idea of mine to play soothing music that YOU select instead of these commercials. The idea is this: On a digital cable network, they create a new feature that allows you to type in a code that you receive when you purchase the product in question. This tells the little computer in the digital setup box, "We bought the product! Shut up about it!" Of course, this is not always practical, especially with the Viagra commercials, which up until recently featured men yelling, apparently through megaphones, that they did it their way.
Face it, if young people are going to watch this forever each day, by the time they (just barely) graduate, they will know 500 synonyms for hangin', which, as anyone can tell you, is not exactly a big help in the business world.
Anyway, this is barbeque season. The barbeque is, of course, the outdoor version of the McDonald's burger grill, with the difference being that McDonald's employees never set fire to a tree in the process. Of course, you can never tell this just from tasting their fries. The fries could actually be the remnants of the tree, but you would never be able to tell because of all the salt they put on them. There's enough salt on those fries for an entire hajj to Mecca.
How do I invite people to the barbeque?
Luckily, your government (How should I know, which one? Look it up!) gives you the constitutional right to invite anyone you have ever looked at directly. You could phone the Pope and he would show up. Just address them in a casual manner:
BOB: Hello, Al?
AL: Yeah? Who may I say is calling?
BOB: It's Bob.
AL: Bob who?
BOB: Ha ha! Very funny, Al!
AL: Bob who?
BOB: Sixteen years ago? I bumped into you in the street and you dropped your briefcase. Then I said, "I'm so sorry. Let me help you." Then I picked up the briefcase and you said thanks. Remember?
AL: No.
BOB: Ha ha ha! That's a good one, Bob!
AL: You're Bob. I'm Al.
BOB: See? You DO remember me! I'm just calling to ask if you want to come to my barbeque.
AL: Well, I don't really thi--
BOB: Great! Bye!
And Al will be forced to come out of guilt. Ideally he will get your number and track you down. You could call him three months ahead of the actual event date and he would camp out on your lawn. He wouldn't dare even thinking of leaving your house, lest he lose your trust and friendship. This is essentially the same scam the Asian ladies at the mall are running. They have these cards that they show you because apparently they can't read them, and they usually sound like this:
Please help me. I am an illegal immigrant and both my husbands are dead. I also have around 900 children we are poor and tired. We are also blind and deaf and have some disgusting third-world disease that eventually makes our eyeballs fall out. Also each of us has had three fingers cut off. Please give me all your money! YES! We DO accept VISA!
And people just give them money, usually just to make them go away. This is basically how you should invite all your guests. Make sure to invite plenty of fire and hospital crews.
This is the day that, no matter what the weatherman says, will no doubt end up raining or snowing or being in the direct path of a tornado and nobody will come. So we might as well talk about something else.
Something Else
Have you walked into a bookstore recently? Our local bookstore is in a shopping mall with a dentist, a doctor, a spa, two pharmacies, a Radio Shack, a Zellers, TWO Bays, and a Laura Secord. Pretty much every other store there has been taken over by the Evil Market for Creating Ugly Clothes that No Sane Person will Buy, otherwise known as the Barbie Conspiracy for reasons that are currently foggy, with a 60% chance of precipitation later in the evening. Barbie, of course, wears clothes that nobody would ever think of wearing, and for one good reason: you can't even use the hats as thimbles. But even IF they were larger, people would not buy them. Have you actually ever SEEN Fashion Television or Fashionfile or one of those programs you only watch because you're sick of Survivor and all the other television stations are apparently holding some sort of ceremony wherein they turn on CBS or NBC or whatever the hell it's on and worship this television until eventually the channels go off the air due to lack of interest? Just take a minute and look at all of these new fashions. In a typical expo there is not a SINGLE item of clothing that a normal person would wear. Homeless people rooting through the donation boxes even reject these. These clothes are extremely popular and "in" at the moment, but they are otherwise totally useless.
The Barbie Conspiracy is all about wasting time on incredibly stupid projects that make no difference anyway. For example, the Paperless Office. The Paperless Office, as we all know, has been advertised endlessly on the radio, along with all the other drivel they broadcast about carpet sales. These ads have been going on since the dawn of time, and do not intend to stop until nuclear war exterminates all life on the planet. These ads remind us that we do not need to waste good money and trees on producing five billion tax forms for every mundane office activity, such as ordering staples. No, with the new concept of a Paperless Office, they inform us that we can convert all our boring, paper-based documents into a digital format, so that if, say, your computer's hard drive exploded, all your important files would be lost and you would end up living in a cardboard box. They don't tell us exactly how they get the pages, or "data", into the computer, or "large, plastic paperweight". I'm picturing a large tube attached directly to the computer, somewhat resembling a vacuum cleaner, and the ink starts jumping off the page, and then finally gets sucked in and shows up on the computer. Some of the ink digs its blackish little claws into the paper as the digital wind roars and threatens to suck him into The Tube. Its wife is screaming and holding out her hand from an open cellar, the doors of which keep swaying, making it impossible to hold on... The wife reaches out even further, but then young Suzy, clutching her teddy bear, approaches and starts screaming. This catches the wife completely off-guard, and the ink loses its grip, as does Suzy, and both he and the teddy bear fly off, never to be seen again. But that was more or less the plot of one of the scenes in that movie about the illiterate hillbilly mother who is deserted by her boyfriend and gives birth to a baby in a Wal-Mart in the middle of the night. But the main question most people ask themselves when they finally get all this stuff in their computer is: Now what? What, exactly, do you do with the millions of newly-transferred documents you have painstakingly destroyed your office to obtain? The straight answer, of course, is: Nothing. The commercials promoting this sort of thing are never exactly clear on what happens AFTER you get the damned things inside the computer. Maybe they thrive in there, forming a complex and highly idealized society, free of crime, starvation and poverty, and occasionally invaded by rogue gangs of Spam who hassle these documents incessantly about "pharmaveuticals" and the size of their digital private parts. But we know for sure that, on the outside, they are just... there, apparently fulfilling the same useful function they did before you started, which was to serve as home for a colony of earwigs. As far as these pages are concerned, they didn't need to be hassled for three months while you converted them into a digital format, knowing well that you will never need to use them again.
Completely useless, and no one with common sense will try it. Luckily for the people running the ads, most people don't have common sense.
Anyway, over the past few months I have been occasionally entering the Coles, and have been surprised by what I have found. They are now selling MAGAZINES there. Yes, they are trying to appeal to people who would not otherwise even directly LOOK at a bookstore. This type of person is more concerned with 10 Fabulous Tips to Make Him Wild in Bed than whatever it is that is going on in the Middle East right now. (The latest reports indicate that a fanatical group blew up a bake sale and now it's raining muffins. But don't quote me.)
Also, there are accompanying books for those moronic anime kids' series. Anime, as everyone knows, is the absolute cheapest form of animation. Everybody moves incredibly slowly and they don't even animate most scenes except for ones with violence. For example, a normal cartoon would show two people talking, as well as decisive hand gestures, and maybe a change of pose. That sort of thing. But anime will keep the characters perfectly still and only animate the mouths. To keep people from getting bored, which they do rather unsuccessfully, they will zoom in on the characters' faces or show them from behind and just move the picture around. This is very common and extremely easy to do (Thank you very much, Mr. Ken Burns).
Finally, 2/5 of all books on computers have been replaced by--if you have any idea of why I was mad at the first two, I suggest you take a drink of coffee so you can spurt it out on the computer screen at an inappropriate moment--video game guidebooks. Right next to the section on foreign languages, you get two whole shelves of Final Fantasy crap.
Now all of this is not even NEARLY as disturbing as what is going to happen next...
HARRY POTTER WILL SOON HAVE ANOTHER BOOK....
Yes, you can get up from underneath the table now. There is a sign in front of Coles announcing this book. The sign also includes a picture of Harry from the cover of his first book (Canadian and U.K. Editions), in which he looks bewildered as he stares at absolutely nothing. This is hardly surprising. Anybody who has ever seen the movie knows that Harry has a look of bewilderment on his face pretty much all the time. This may or may not have been the result of botched Paraguayan plastic surgery. J. K. Rowling isn't telling.
I did not at all like the forth book. It got very boring at the end. I hardly got through five chapters before I just gave up on it. Who else here gets the impression that Rowling is sick and tired of the whole damn series? It's like she's not trying anymore.
This book is the most anticipated work of literature since the fifth book, which was the most anticipated work of literature since the fourth book, etc. This is undoubtedly the one we have all been waiting for, where he gets his magical driver's licence but accidentally hits Draco Malfoy and crashes into the school. But the big question is: Is Harry found innocent of careless driving and murder charges? Do his insurance premiums rise, like so many people on the radio complain? (Dramatic mystery music) The suspense is killing us. So let's look at a sample chapter:
Harry quickly searched the walls for any holes, even just a slight crack, that could help him escape. Voldemort was still silent, standing and gazing at him from the other end of the room. Wand in hand, he approached Harry. Edging closer and closer, Harry thought his doom to be near. Suddenly, Harry spotted a hole. It was only about the size of an ant. Carefully, he pointed his wand at it, and...
"Perseus Mozzarella!" echoed throughout the room. Nothing happened.
Voldemort approached ever closer.
"You call that a spell?" asked Voldemort. "You have to shout it. Like this." He pointed his wand at the hole.
"PERSEUS MOZZARELLA!!!" he yelled, and the hole became wider.
Harry had a way to escape, but he knew he had to act fast: Volemort would slowly make his move at any moment. And when that moment came, Harry would be ready.
Voldemort crept ever closer. His breath was cold as ice, which did not exactly do a lot for the quality of the hardwood floor once it melted. Suddenly, he took out his magical Pen of Souls and gave it to Harry. Then he reached under his robe and withdrew his magical Parchment of Evil, which just happened to have Harry's picture on it.
"Harry, it's so great to see you again! I'm your biggest fan! Can I have your autograph?" he asked.
Harry had only a few seconds before the hole closed and he would be forced to give Voldemort his autograph, which would almost definitely be sold on the Wizards' eBay, the most evil website on the Magical Internet. He made his move quickly.
Voldemort cried out in pain as Harry recited some rap music.
"AAAGGGGGHHHH!!!" he cried. There were only three seconds until the hole closed again, and Harry could make it out in that time. Voldemort took out his wand again, pointed at Harry's area of the room, and cast his spell.
"ITZANOABALONEY ITZAPONY!" he yelled as a classical orchestra materialized in front of Harry and the hole closed. The music made Harry scream and cover his ears. But the sound became louder, and louder, until, finally, he collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
Wow! What suspense! We'll be sure to buy the book and read it as soon as it comes out, assuming we lose our sight and require a new paperweight.
Wear it with pants (Wear the tunic with your pants)
Built to fit lamps (I think that's what they said)
Busting out of style (God knows)
Like you in a trance (Like you are in a trance)
Wear it over that tiny BA-thing SUIT (Wear it over your bathing suit)
Flow with the tunic (Consult local teenager for explanation)
And look wicked cute (I hereby apologise for those who may have thrown up as a result of reading these lyrics)
It has always been an idea of mine to play soothing music that YOU select instead of these commercials. The idea is this: On a digital cable network, they create a new feature that allows you to type in a code that you receive when you purchase the product in question. This tells the little computer in the digital setup box, "We bought the product! Shut up about it!" Of course, this is not always practical, especially with the Viagra commercials, which up until recently featured men yelling, apparently through megaphones, that they did it their way.
Face it, if young people are going to watch this forever each day, by the time they (just barely) graduate, they will know 500 synonyms for hangin', which, as anyone can tell you, is not exactly a big help in the business world.
Anyway, this is barbeque season. The barbeque is, of course, the outdoor version of the McDonald's burger grill, with the difference being that McDonald's employees never set fire to a tree in the process. Of course, you can never tell this just from tasting their fries. The fries could actually be the remnants of the tree, but you would never be able to tell because of all the salt they put on them. There's enough salt on those fries for an entire hajj to Mecca.
How do I invite people to the barbeque?
Luckily, your government (How should I know, which one? Look it up!) gives you the constitutional right to invite anyone you have ever looked at directly. You could phone the Pope and he would show up. Just address them in a casual manner:
BOB: Hello, Al?
AL: Yeah? Who may I say is calling?
BOB: It's Bob.
AL: Bob who?
BOB: Ha ha! Very funny, Al!
AL: Bob who?
BOB: Sixteen years ago? I bumped into you in the street and you dropped your briefcase. Then I said, "I'm so sorry. Let me help you." Then I picked up the briefcase and you said thanks. Remember?
AL: No.
BOB: Ha ha ha! That's a good one, Bob!
AL: You're Bob. I'm Al.
BOB: See? You DO remember me! I'm just calling to ask if you want to come to my barbeque.
AL: Well, I don't really thi--
BOB: Great! Bye!
And Al will be forced to come out of guilt. Ideally he will get your number and track you down. You could call him three months ahead of the actual event date and he would camp out on your lawn. He wouldn't dare even thinking of leaving your house, lest he lose your trust and friendship. This is essentially the same scam the Asian ladies at the mall are running. They have these cards that they show you because apparently they can't read them, and they usually sound like this:
Please help me. I am an illegal immigrant and both my husbands are dead. I also have around 900 children we are poor and tired. We are also blind and deaf and have some disgusting third-world disease that eventually makes our eyeballs fall out. Also each of us has had three fingers cut off. Please give me all your money! YES! We DO accept VISA!
And people just give them money, usually just to make them go away. This is basically how you should invite all your guests. Make sure to invite plenty of fire and hospital crews.
Q. How big should my barbeque be?
A. Ideally twice as large as an Italian wedding, but with much better food. You may actually want to tell complete strangers that they are going to a wedding, as this may assemble large crowds faster. Be sure to alert every local news programme that has an available helicopter. If someone has a heart attack or beef poisoning or something and dies, you can get paid by the Weekly World News when you inform them that your guest has been reincarnated as a particularly vicious-looking tree.
Q. What do I do if these tactics do not work?
A. Simply make a reply phone call indicating that you have taken their children hostage.
Q. Can I invite too many people?
A. As strange as it seems, yes. The events wherein the barbeque dinners are available to thousands of people are often in special areas and large fields. You should establish some sort of Maximum Occupancy guidelines, such as "If there are trampled dead people on the ground , break into your neighbour's house and leave the bodies there. If he asks why you are framing him, say 'Oh, I HOPE you don't mind!'"
How should I prepare my property for the Big Event?
For an event as large as a barbeque, you need to desperately clean your house. Your main reference should be one of those programs they have on TLC, like "Clean Sweep". I personally despise these programs, so I have no idea what Clean Sweep is actually about, but judging from the title I think it's a pretty good chance that it's about cleaning.
Q. How do I clean my basement?
A. This is only necessary if you are purchasing a keg or two. If you are, simply remove all sharp objects beforehand, and this will make a nice area to hide the drunks.
Q. How do I clean the main floor?
A. The most effective way is to hire one of those cleaning crews like Merry Maids. Contrary to what you see in their commercials, their employees are not that excited at the prospect of cleaning your entire house. They will do five hundred billion houses a day, and their faces will change, ever so slowly, to a sort of insane smile, because in-between jobs they have been injecting painkillers into their arms to keep from noticing the blood pouring in their shoes. Also, if television has taught us anything, it is that there are always two kinds of maids: (a) old English widows, and (b) shorter, fatter foreigners. The English widows are always kind and gentle and work well with children. However, this does not come without problems. For example, you probably should not hire anybody named Mrs. Doubtfire. Also, you often fail to look past the image of a kind, frail old woman, to see that she is in reality a wanted serial killer with a chainsaw. The foreigners are usually from some Spanish-speaking Latin-American country where they have no concept whatsoever of modern ideas, such as "fluffy" or "wazzap". These people are surprisingly cost-effective. Just give them a nice, shiny quarter before the work, and promise another one if they do a really good job. Unless they are legal immigrants who for years have studied the American economic and legal systems, in which case they will simply kick you in the nuts.
What kind of meat should I serve?
Definitely some kind of animal meat is preferred. Possibly penguin.
Q. What kind of areas should I serve?
A. "Areas"?
Q. Yes, areas of the specific animal's body.
A. You can't go wrong with the eyes.
This is the day that, no matter what the weatherman says, will no doubt end up raining or snowing or being in the direct path of a tornado and nobody will come. So we might as well talk about something else.
Something Else
Have you walked into a bookstore recently? Our local bookstore is in a shopping mall with a dentist, a doctor, a spa, two pharmacies, a Radio Shack, a Zellers, TWO Bays, and a Laura Secord. Pretty much every other store there has been taken over by the Evil Market for Creating Ugly Clothes that No Sane Person will Buy, otherwise known as the Barbie Conspiracy for reasons that are currently foggy, with a 60% chance of precipitation later in the evening. Barbie, of course, wears clothes that nobody would ever think of wearing, and for one good reason: you can't even use the hats as thimbles. But even IF they were larger, people would not buy them. Have you actually ever SEEN Fashion Television or Fashionfile or one of those programs you only watch because you're sick of Survivor and all the other television stations are apparently holding some sort of ceremony wherein they turn on CBS or NBC or whatever the hell it's on and worship this television until eventually the channels go off the air due to lack of interest? Just take a minute and look at all of these new fashions. In a typical expo there is not a SINGLE item of clothing that a normal person would wear. Homeless people rooting through the donation boxes even reject these. These clothes are extremely popular and "in" at the moment, but they are otherwise totally useless.
The Barbie Conspiracy is all about wasting time on incredibly stupid projects that make no difference anyway. For example, the Paperless Office. The Paperless Office, as we all know, has been advertised endlessly on the radio, along with all the other drivel they broadcast about carpet sales. These ads have been going on since the dawn of time, and do not intend to stop until nuclear war exterminates all life on the planet. These ads remind us that we do not need to waste good money and trees on producing five billion tax forms for every mundane office activity, such as ordering staples. No, with the new concept of a Paperless Office, they inform us that we can convert all our boring, paper-based documents into a digital format, so that if, say, your computer's hard drive exploded, all your important files would be lost and you would end up living in a cardboard box. They don't tell us exactly how they get the pages, or "data", into the computer, or "large, plastic paperweight". I'm picturing a large tube attached directly to the computer, somewhat resembling a vacuum cleaner, and the ink starts jumping off the page, and then finally gets sucked in and shows up on the computer. Some of the ink digs its blackish little claws into the paper as the digital wind roars and threatens to suck him into The Tube. Its wife is screaming and holding out her hand from an open cellar, the doors of which keep swaying, making it impossible to hold on... The wife reaches out even further, but then young Suzy, clutching her teddy bear, approaches and starts screaming. This catches the wife completely off-guard, and the ink loses its grip, as does Suzy, and both he and the teddy bear fly off, never to be seen again. But that was more or less the plot of one of the scenes in that movie about the illiterate hillbilly mother who is deserted by her boyfriend and gives birth to a baby in a Wal-Mart in the middle of the night. But the main question most people ask themselves when they finally get all this stuff in their computer is: Now what? What, exactly, do you do with the millions of newly-transferred documents you have painstakingly destroyed your office to obtain? The straight answer, of course, is: Nothing. The commercials promoting this sort of thing are never exactly clear on what happens AFTER you get the damned things inside the computer. Maybe they thrive in there, forming a complex and highly idealized society, free of crime, starvation and poverty, and occasionally invaded by rogue gangs of Spam who hassle these documents incessantly about "pharmaveuticals" and the size of their digital private parts. But we know for sure that, on the outside, they are just... there, apparently fulfilling the same useful function they did before you started, which was to serve as home for a colony of earwigs. As far as these pages are concerned, they didn't need to be hassled for three months while you converted them into a digital format, knowing well that you will never need to use them again.
Completely useless, and no one with common sense will try it. Luckily for the people running the ads, most people don't have common sense.
Anyway, over the past few months I have been occasionally entering the Coles, and have been surprised by what I have found. They are now selling MAGAZINES there. Yes, they are trying to appeal to people who would not otherwise even directly LOOK at a bookstore. This type of person is more concerned with 10 Fabulous Tips to Make Him Wild in Bed than whatever it is that is going on in the Middle East right now. (The latest reports indicate that a fanatical group blew up a bake sale and now it's raining muffins. But don't quote me.)
Also, there are accompanying books for those moronic anime kids' series. Anime, as everyone knows, is the absolute cheapest form of animation. Everybody moves incredibly slowly and they don't even animate most scenes except for ones with violence. For example, a normal cartoon would show two people talking, as well as decisive hand gestures, and maybe a change of pose. That sort of thing. But anime will keep the characters perfectly still and only animate the mouths. To keep people from getting bored, which they do rather unsuccessfully, they will zoom in on the characters' faces or show them from behind and just move the picture around. This is very common and extremely easy to do (Thank you very much, Mr. Ken Burns).
Finally, 2/5 of all books on computers have been replaced by--if you have any idea of why I was mad at the first two, I suggest you take a drink of coffee so you can spurt it out on the computer screen at an inappropriate moment--video game guidebooks. Right next to the section on foreign languages, you get two whole shelves of Final Fantasy crap.
Now all of this is not even NEARLY as disturbing as what is going to happen next...
HARRY POTTER WILL SOON HAVE ANOTHER BOOK....
Yes, you can get up from underneath the table now. There is a sign in front of Coles announcing this book. The sign also includes a picture of Harry from the cover of his first book (Canadian and U.K. Editions), in which he looks bewildered as he stares at absolutely nothing. This is hardly surprising. Anybody who has ever seen the movie knows that Harry has a look of bewilderment on his face pretty much all the time. This may or may not have been the result of botched Paraguayan plastic surgery. J. K. Rowling isn't telling.
I did not at all like the forth book. It got very boring at the end. I hardly got through five chapters before I just gave up on it. Who else here gets the impression that Rowling is sick and tired of the whole damn series? It's like she's not trying anymore.
This book is the most anticipated work of literature since the fifth book, which was the most anticipated work of literature since the fourth book, etc. This is undoubtedly the one we have all been waiting for, where he gets his magical driver's licence but accidentally hits Draco Malfoy and crashes into the school. But the big question is: Is Harry found innocent of careless driving and murder charges? Do his insurance premiums rise, like so many people on the radio complain? (Dramatic mystery music) The suspense is killing us. So let's look at a sample chapter:
312: The Korpia Battle
Harry quickly searched the walls for any holes, even just a slight crack, that could help him escape. Voldemort was still silent, standing and gazing at him from the other end of the room. Wand in hand, he approached Harry. Edging closer and closer, Harry thought his doom to be near. Suddenly, Harry spotted a hole. It was only about the size of an ant. Carefully, he pointed his wand at it, and...
"Perseus Mozzarella!" echoed throughout the room. Nothing happened.
Voldemort approached ever closer.
"You call that a spell?" asked Voldemort. "You have to shout it. Like this." He pointed his wand at the hole.
"PERSEUS MOZZARELLA!!!" he yelled, and the hole became wider.
Harry had a way to escape, but he knew he had to act fast: Volemort would slowly make his move at any moment. And when that moment came, Harry would be ready.
Voldemort crept ever closer. His breath was cold as ice, which did not exactly do a lot for the quality of the hardwood floor once it melted. Suddenly, he took out his magical Pen of Souls and gave it to Harry. Then he reached under his robe and withdrew his magical Parchment of Evil, which just happened to have Harry's picture on it.
"Harry, it's so great to see you again! I'm your biggest fan! Can I have your autograph?" he asked.
Harry had only a few seconds before the hole closed and he would be forced to give Voldemort his autograph, which would almost definitely be sold on the Wizards' eBay, the most evil website on the Magical Internet. He made his move quickly.
Voldemort cried out in pain as Harry recited some rap music.
"AAAGGGGGHHHH!!!" he cried. There were only three seconds until the hole closed again, and Harry could make it out in that time. Voldemort took out his wand again, pointed at Harry's area of the room, and cast his spell.
"ITZANOABALONEY ITZAPONY!" he yelled as a classical orchestra materialized in front of Harry and the hole closed. The music made Harry scream and cover his ears. But the sound became louder, and louder, until, finally, he collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
Wow! What suspense! We'll be sure to buy the book and read it as soon as it comes out, assuming we lose our sight and require a new paperweight.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home