OK, I've read HPB twice now and am brimming with hypotheses. Feel free to join in with your own outlandish conspiracy theories.


#1. Sirius' brother took the necklace Horcrux (initials R.A.B?) Harry will either find it in Grimmauld Place (which he has now inherited) or, more likely, it would have been stolen and sold off by Mundungus Fletcher.

#2. Dumbledore's hand was blackened by lifting the Unbreakable Vow from Snape. Rowling's emphasis on non-verbal spells throughout the book could lead up to the fact that Snape yelled 'Avada Kedavra' whilst simply levitating Dumbledore off the edge of the tower with a non-verbal spell. However, to continue the curse of DADA teachers never lasting more than a year, he will have to go into hiding to maintain the illusion of Dumbledore's death. By keeping the truth from even Harry, Dumbledore can ensure the element of surprise in returning to fight Voldemort.

#3. Dumbledore said that it was possible to use animals as Horcruxes. Hence it is plausible that people could also be used. Hence I conclude, from all of the character traits and abilities that Harry shares with Voldermort, that HE is actually a Horcrux (and that is why Voldemort was drained of power in performing the spell on him as a baby without him being killed.) Voldemort simply 'marked him as equal' by imprinting the 7th part of his soul in Harry, making it a dramatic end as Harry realises the only way of completely destroying Voldemort is by killing himself.

#4. House elves play a role in fighting Voldemort. Kreacher and Dobby were able to Apparate and Disapparate within the Hogwarts walls when security was tightened 'ten fold'... surely they hold hidden powers capable of fighting wizards. If indeed Hogwarts is closed for the following year, the elves will be free from their bonds of enslavement and join Hermione's S.P.E.W as an army.


I'm done for now. Hit me with your enlightening views!

Only on chapter 2 right now, can't help ya. I'll be sure to avoid reading this thread for its spoiler potential. :-X

If you want a Harry Potter "spoiler", allow me to SPOIL this thread with the following GRISLY image ...

Luke, I'm quite impressed with your theories, and tend to agree with all except the last one.  Dobby maybe, but never Kreacher.

How has everyone liked the 6th book thus far?  I thought it was fantastic, and went much faster than the 5th one.

Johnny, where are you in that pic?

Johnny, where are you in that pic?



At The Concord Bookshop in my hometown of Concord, Massachusetts, sometime around 12:30 AM this past Saturday morning.  My wife and I had dinner that Friday evening around the corner at The Walden Grille, and then later, we went by the Bookshop to visit a friend of ours who is an assistant manager and who was dressed-up as Professor McGonagall for the Bookshop's midnight Harry Potter book-release-extravaganza.

The Bookshop was magnificently decorated with all manner of Potter-Paraphernalia, and packed with kids lined-up to get their copies of the 6th book (I think it's "Half-Blood Prince", right?).

It was fun --- I was goofing around at the podium in the front of the store when my wife snapped that picture!

Sounds like a hoot!

There was a Harry Potter extravaganza at our downtown library on Friday night/Saturday morning.  There were all sorts of Harry Potter activities, and you could buy books there and stuff.  I wanted to go, but had other plans, darnit!  Anyway, if you haven't read any of the books I highly suggest that you do.  They are fabulous!!

Johnny, where are you in that pic?


He's in the center, behind the podium...duh!

He's in the center, behind the podium...duh!



That retort occurred to me, too, Jeff --- you beat me to it !

I sent luke my responses in a personal message since i thought they might be a bit too detailed to put on this thread, but I agree that they all probably have some truth in them, especially the 1st one. And I agree with Arwen about Kreacher, he's slightly less trustworthy than gollum.

The house-elf one was relating to all of the Hogwarts elves, not just Dobby and Kreacher.
And however untrustful Kreacher is, he is still under the command of Harry.
Oh, and another thing...

#5. Hermione and Ron get rocky at the wedding when Ron falls in love with Fleur's little sister, who has 'grown' a bit over the past few years.

#6. Peter Pettigrew's silver hand is magically powerful and he is forced to use it against Voldemort due to the wizarding bond with Harry from the end of Book 3.

five seems entirely possible, as for six I have no idea I have no recollection of the event you referred to. I tend to read a bit fast... i finished number 6 before 9 pm on the saturday it came out.

The house-elf one was relating to all of the Hogwarts elves, not just Dobby and Kreacher.
And however untrustful Kreacher is, he is still under the command of Harry.
Oh, and another thing...

#5. Hermione and Ron get rocky at the wedding when Ron falls in love with Fleur's little sister, who has 'grown' a bit over the past few years.

#6. Peter Pettigrew's silver hand is magically powerful and he is forced to use it against Voldemort due to the wizarding bond with Harry from the end of Book 3.



What?

I sent luke my responses in a personal message since i thought they might be a bit too detailed to put on this thread, but I agree that they all probably have some truth in them, especially the 1st one. And I agree with Arwen about Kreacher, he's slightly less trustworthy than gollum.


Just so you know, I am not Arwen.  I am her trusty sidekick Ashkicksass. 

sorry... i saw the princess picture and didn't double check

7. he 'Killing' spell turns out to not be a killing spell at all, it only tranfers souls from the body to somewhere else, Harry finds out and sets out to help Dumbledore n his Mum n Dad cos there really alive, he only found dis out after destroying all the cruxes but himself (if #3 is true)

Unfortunately at the last minute, voldemort n draco show up just as harry n ron are about to set everyone free again, n he fights em but snape shows up n turns on voldemort and malfoy n almost kill vold but it dont work, then shock horror, it turns out that malfoy is the last horcrux, harry kills malfoy but hundreds of Death Eaters appear n dey looked doomed nutil hermione n the SPEW army turn up  n kickbutt n then they set everyone free. yay

7. he 'Killing' spell turns out to not be a killing spell at all, it only tranfers souls from the body to somewhere else, Harry finds out and sets out to help Dumbledore n his Mum n Dad cos there really alive, he only found dis out after destroying all the cruxes but himself (if #3 is true)

Unfortunately at the last minute, voldemort n draco show up just as harry n ron are about to set everyone free again, n he fights em but snape shows up n turns on voldemort and malfoy n almost kill vold but it dont work, then shock horror, it turns out that malfoy is the last horcrux, harry kills malfoy but hundreds of Death Eaters appear n dey looked doomed nutil hermione n the SPEW army turn up  n kickbutt n then they set everyone free. yay


Yee-esss!!! Have you got that in an illustrated version?  ;D

OK, this one's about as justifiable as my 'Snape aint evil' one, as I can't think my way around the fact that there is now a portrait of Dumbledore in the Headmaster's Office.

R.A.B= Professor Binns?
We know he woke up one morning dead, possibly he was poisoned by Death Eaters to make it look like he died of natural causes.
Surely a teacher chosen by Dumbledore would be a skillful wizard, possibly he was in the Order last time. The photograph that Mad-Eye Moody had of the old Order may have Binns in it, but Harry left after seeing his parents come to the front of the crowded photo.

Dumbledore is a Whorecrux.

Someone who challenged Voldemort probably would be a more interesting ghost than binns

Dumbledore is a Whorecrux.


YOU'RE a Whorecrux.

(And no more 10-point font. Use your words, Stewie!)

Check out this Harry Potter Personality Quiz, and if you take it, post who you are.  I am freaking Voldemort!


http://piratemonkeysinc.com/result.php

Check out this Harry Potter Personality Quiz, and if you take it, post who you are. I am freaking Voldemort!

http://piratemonkeysinc.com/result.php

Wow, that test IS good. Without even taking the test, it was able to discern that I was '...someone who didn't answer all the questions. Go back and try again.'
Spooky...
Nahh, I'm a Lupin: The Introverted Loner (which would shock the hell out of anyone who remembers me before turning 14 or so.)

This is pretty funny.


Oh, and to add to my Harry/Horcrux theory, (SO not Dumbledore...) if he's a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, this would increase Voldemort's appeal in him to complete the whole Hogwarts-founders 'set'. Why else would Potter's family have been living in Godric's Hollow?

Check out this Harry Potter Personality Quiz, and if you take it, post who you are.  I am freaking Voldemort!
http://piratemonkeysinc.com/result.php

For some peculiar reason I got pegged as Severus Snape.  8) The below came from another website:
Name Meaning: Severus can be thought as Severe. And Snape is definately severe when it comes to punishments.
Physical Appearence: Snape is a thin, greasey man with black hair.
Personality: The first word that comes to mind when thinking of Snape is bitter. He is bitter towards pretty much everything. He's bitter towards the Potters. He's bitter toward his job. And he's bitter toward Neville Longbottom. He is overly cynical and sarcastic so much that he is just plain bitchy. He is very unjust, usually picking favorites like Draco Malfoy and the other Slytherins. Like all good Slytherins, he is highly cunning, ambitious, and rather intelligent and quick. Even though he is a nasty and mean, he is not exactly evil. He's just whiney and spiteful and seeks revenge. He sure deserves a good kick.
Hijinxes: Snape came to Hogwarts knowing more black magic than even the teachers did. His great ambitous behavior landed him right in Slytherin in which he was in the inner circle of future deatheaters. He knew James Potter, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter and hated their guts. Snape HATES Harry with a passion. Dumbledore seems to trust Severus even after his tinted past. He is nasty to all those not Slytherin, and especially nasty to Harry and Neville.

uh oh I'm a dead man... Sirius Black

Good grief! I'm Hermione.

I think that at the end of the last Harry Potter book, Bob Newhart wakes up and says "You won't believe the dream I just had".

(If you're wondering what the heck I mean, read paragraph seven at http://www.bpcbakbusconf.com/2000-newhart.htm).

Oh, what a Lupin am I. 

I'll bet that plane got shot down in a matter of seconds after that scene was filmed.

"Damn you!!  You can't just go flying that thing around without a spoiler warning!  Sorry, this is for the good of the people!" 

I'm freakin Percy Weasley. As for thoughts on the finish...

I'm firmly in the Regalus Black boat for RAB and I'm also still harboring thoughts that Snape is going to be the ultimate hero helper.

I do think Albus be dead. I think he froze Harry to make sure he saw the act with his own two eyes as opposed to getting a different story from different witnesses. I believe Dumbledore knew about the vow and that he made sure what happened happened in front of Harry. NOW... I'm also curious as to what the picture in the headmaster's office will say and for that matter... who says Minerva will be the new headmaster? Hogwarts might not even be open. As popular as Dumbledore was there HAVE to be enough paintings around to ensure his place in the final novel if needed. I doubt so much attention would have been paid to his funeral if he wasn't really dead.

My desired ending would be for Snape to take the ultimate sacrifice leading Harry to his final conquest. Also... I hope Ron dies so I don't have to listen to him anymore.

I do think Albus be dead.


"He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him".  Awww.

And, although I know it's not quite the same, Dumbledore is in the Headmaster's office, in a portrait on the wall. I honestly don't think he'll be sleeping all through the next book. 

Well, if you're still in denial, you can check out a rabid fansite, aptly named, here.. 

I can't quite remember, as I have just recently polluted my head by going back over #4 and #5... twice (I've been catching trains every day for the past week. Shut up.) but didn't Harry overhear Dumbledore and Snape arguing in the forest or something as he passed by? I think Dumbledore knew that he was going to die, which is why he ensured that Harry knew as much about Voldemort as possible. Also, I remember distinctly that Rowling had Dumbledore looking out over a blood-red sunset (or sunrise?), and the last time she had one of those, Sirius died within the next chapter.

As for Ron dying... note that HE was Harry's preciousssss in the second Triwizard task.

I also think that Harry will be hooning around on Sirius' motorbike next book, having inherited it and also the fact that he needs more symbolism regarding his whole 'isolated protagonist fulfilling his destiny' persona.

OH OH OH! Rowling has also said that she made sure she worded the prophecy right. Note that Harry throws the prophecy to Neville in the room with the veil, and NOTHING HAPPENS TO HIM. Apparently, only those of whom a prophecy was made will be able to handle it... and I would really like to know when Malfoy was born. His parents may have defied Voldemort's orders 'three times', as Narcissa seems to be the type to want to protect her family.

I'm done. I leave you now with random excerpts from my first Harry Potter parody. It was exactly 50000 words.
I was 14, so... expect the worst...

I can't quite remember...but didn't Harry overhear Dumbledore and Snape arguing in the forest or something as he passed by? I think Dumbledore knew that he was going to die, which is why he ensured that Harry knew as much about Voldemort as possible.

Yes, yes, yes!  Thank you, Luke.  Finally someone agrees with me.  I think Hagrid let it slip when he was tipsy or something.  Thank you, alcohol.  

An interesting theory from OMFGDUMBLEDORLIVES!!!.com.

Potions come into play a lot in the course of Half-Blood Prince. In Chapter 9, Professor Slughorn presents four already-made potions to his first class, three of which figure prominently in the story.

They are Veritaserum (truth potion), Polyjuice Potion, which we find out later is being used by Crabbe and Goyle to disguise themselves as girls while they're lookouts for Draco, Amortentia (love potion), which Ron accidentally injests from a candy meant for Harry, and Feilx Felicis, which aids the members of Dumbledore's Army later in the climax of the story.

Then, in the same class, Harry, with the aid of the Half-Blood Prince, produces a perfect Draught of Living Death, which was introduced to us way back in Snape's first lesson in the first book. Interestingly, in pratically the same breath, Snape also mentions the bezoar which also figures prominently in Half-Blood Prince, and also wolfsbane, which we know helps Lupin later in Prisoner of Azkaban:

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As far as monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant... (SS/PS pg 138/103)

Some fans are speculating that the fifth potion in this scene is important too, that Dumbledore uses the Draught of Living Death to somehow fake his death that night up on the tower. While this theory is possible, besides the mention of the Draught of Living Death here in Chapter 9, to my knowledge there is no other evidence to support this theory.

Dumbledore went out for a drink, did he not? Regulus Black didn't die, everyone just thinks he's dead because he emptied Voldemort's little bowl of the potion to get the ACTUAL Horcrux out.

(Oh. And was the identity of the Half-Blood Prince about as obvious to everyone as the fact that Sirius Black was the black dog Harry kept seeing in Book 3. In the Snape-Penseive flashback, Snape used that Sectasempra non-verbal spell on James' cheek, which clinched any doubts I had that it was Dumbledore or Lily.

This thread totally sucks, right?

Luke, those quotes amuse me to no end.  *re-re-re-affirms marriage vows*  You are one brilliant basswhole.  

(Oh. And was the identity of the Half-Blood Prince about as obvious blah blah blah...wrong end punctuation...)

This thread totally sucks, right?


Yes, and yes.

((What convinced me was the mention of 'cramped' handwriting, and in "Snape's Worst Memory", his writing on his OWLS was deemed 'cramped' as well.))

Sorry, I was just pissed you started a new page of threadage, leaving my baeobies behind.
Hormoany blames the crampage on gonorrhoea.


CHAPTER ONE
Vermin Parsley was a large, sweaty man with less neck than Marie-Antoinette, although almost as much moustache. His wife, Peculiar, was thin with a rather long neck, which got her into a right bit of trouble when she fell into the giraffe pen at the local zoo during mating season.

We now begin our story of Hairy Potted; and how his triumphs over evil metaphorically represent the world of professional bocci.

That night, the evening news predicted scattered meteor showers, a warm front of broomsticks sweeping in from the west and, predictably for England, rain.

The Parsleys lay Dullard to bed in his ruby-encrusted cot, then herded up the remaining orphans into their cellar, generously tossing in a few extra bales of hay for warmth. Soon enough, Vermin and Peculiar were fast asleep, reducing speed for dream bumps and the occasional nightmare pedestrian.

Fumbling awkwardly up the dark street, the geriatric fool bumped into several trees, loudly topple over a collection of trash cans and set off a security alarm, all in the name of an utterly inconspicuous entrance into the novel. He stopped at the front of number four thousand and two where a large, vandalised plaque on the front gates read:
P A R S L E Y  O R P H A N A G ES
F O R  U N L U C K Y  Y O U T H.
Dumbodork rolled his eyes, getting a pair of threes.

At this, Haggis slowly removed a crumpled bundle of cloth from his jacket. A tiny head peeped out from underneath, wearing a red cap with an 'M' insignia.
"Letsa go! Yipee!" the infant chirped. Dumbodork's left eyebrow raised.
"Whoops, I got this little 'un orf a Yoshi down the pub!"

"He'll have that scab for ever." Dumbodork murmured quietly, taking the child in his arms. "Just like the one I got when I attempted that spell to increase the length of my-" He paused, blushed and turned around to mask his blurted embarrassment.

"Well, I think it's time to let him go." Profaner MuckGonadal suggested. Dumbodork nodded, shaking a small shower of dandruff over baby Hairy.
"Yes. We'd best be off celebrating while we leave this infant unprotected on a doorstep in the cold of the night where he is exposed for night predators to attack him."

"Farewell, Hairy Potted... until we meet again" whispered Dumbodork. He stood up, hitting his head on a lamp post. Cursing, he gave a swish of his tutu, exposing his privates, and he'd vanished.

CHAPTER TWO
Over a matter of turning the page, a decade has passed in this story. Things had barely changed at all in 4002 Privates Drive; except for climate, size, smell, appearance and other trivial matters.

As usual, Hairy was ordered to lay the table; he cursed his poultry genetics which enabled him to pass gueridons through his bowels after having eaten planks of wood.

Unco Vermin turned away, permitting a grin to slyly appear on Hairy's face. Mrs Parsley had already given him the very same punishment for impregnating her lingerie catalogue.

Hairy was having the time of his life at the petting zoo, apart from not being able to see the giraffes for some odd reason of Ant Peculiar's.

Mr and Mrs Parsley were too occupied with the other orphans, who were greedily eating flaccid vegetable scraps from the sheep's trough.

Once they had returned home, Mr Parsley turned straight to Hairy with a menacing scowl, bending down face-to-face.
"Go - cupboard - stay - no dinner - unable to -  string together - coherent - sentences."

A poorly aimed jab with a catling by a slightly irate dentist had left Hairy with the 'L'-shaped scab across his forehead. Sometimes, when Hairy strained his memory, he envisioned a flash of green and a burning pain in his head... though this may have been a recollection of getting brain freeze from a big lime Slushy.

CHAPTER THREE
"Check the mail, Dullard." grunted Mr Parsley.
"Make Hairy do it." whined Dullard.
"Check the mail, Hairy." grunted Mr Parsley.
"Make Kevin do it." retorted Hairy.
Unco Vermin looked up from his paper.
"Who the hell is Kevin?" he bellowed. The family all turned to observe a scrawny boy  in a wheelchair bobbing up and down excitedly in the middle of the room.
"I like cheese! I like cheese!" chirped Kevin, waving a large chunk of cheddar about.

Hairy stood up.
"I want to read my-" he began, but the letter had already been tossed into the microwave, the paper curling up at the corners as it caught alight, gradually exposing a golden ring inside of the envelope with Elvish writing engraved… oh, wrong story.

And so they drove. They drove afar.
They drove inside their little car.
The little car along the road.
They drove and drove and drove and drove.
The road was long, the road was black.
Mr Parsley doubled back.
'They should be easy enough to fool.'
He muttered, driving to the pool.

'Three minutes till I'm eleven.' Hairy thought to himself.
'Two minutes... one minute... half a minute... a sixth of a minute... seven-sixtieths of a minute... pi-eighty-fifths of a minute...

CHAPTER FOUR
Haggis started counting bricks with his cane.
"Now, wha' was it? Two up, four across... no wait, three up and... oh, screw it!"
At this, the gigantic man arched up and swung his fat at the wall. With a loud smash, the bricks shattered and crumbled away to expose a small pathway leading to a wide cobbled street.
"Welcome," Haggis said to Hairy. "To Diaphragm Gully."

CHAPTER FIVE
The vault door melted away to expose a small package wrapped in toilet paper in the centre of the dark cell. Hairy's brow furrowed.
"Hey, where's that spotlight coming from, and all that orchestral music?"

Mr Olivespandex turned to Haggis.
"Ahh, Rubicund! I remember when you first came to me! Quite large, if memory serves me right: twenty inches, rather plump, with several strands of ogre pubes." Haggis screwed up his face in confusion.
"Almost righ', but I was bigger 'n twen'y inches!" he said.

"Here, Potted, try this one." Hairy was handed a celery rod, twelve inches long, harbouring the uteral lining of a mermaid.

CHAPTER SIX
"Righ' yeh tiny-to's, le's ge' inter them bins an' row the the oth'r side, eh ickle 'uns!" boomed Haggis. The group of freshmen stared gapingly at this indecipherable sentence. Haggis cleared his throat and tried again.
"I imploringly beseech those of you among the chronologically-challenged to accompany myself to a location fit for boarding aqueous vessels, as means of locomotion to the opposing shore." The group of freshmen stared gapingly at this indecipherable sentence.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Hormoany was having a trivial chat with Teen dum****.
"Yes, I also believe that Albert Einstein's theory is obsolete, as light now takes longer to travel through space-time due to universal expansion." Rum, however, was  deeply involved in a scintillating discussion with one of his Siamese-twin brothers, Gorge.
"Wanna see Frig and I fart and burp at the same time?"

The man had slick black hair, devil horns and a forked tail. Suddenly, he turned and his eyes locked onto Hairy's. A sharp pain shot through Hairy's scab.
"Whoops, sorry!" said Rum, removing his fork from Hairy's head.

CHAPTER EIGHT
"Now, class, Poachings is a subject in which you will learn how to poach magical brews. However, it will take many years to master poachings for deluding the mind, concoctions for cheating death and sedatives that can be slipped to unsuspecting female students during tutorial classes, rendering them vuln..." Snoop stopped abruptly and looked up, as if just realising there were other people in the room.

Profaner Snoop deducted ten points from Graafiandor for Hairy not leaping from the other side of the room to stop Nibble adding the porcupine ovaries prematurely.

Haggis continued to babble evasively, turning his gaze as far away as possible in order to avoid Hairy's eyes. Soon, his neck had completed a half-revolution. Rum exchanged looks of suspicion with Hairy and the two got up to leave.
"See yez later!" Haggis called, his head facing in the opposite direction.

CHAPTER NINE
Nibble Lungbuttock unwrapped the package.
"Cool, a Remembrmost... they help you recll anything you might have frgttn!"

Hairy found Oldliver Would's accent about as decipherable as Haggis yodelling with a mouthful of cookie dough.

"Lungbuttock? What are you doing out so late?" whispered Hairy frantically.
"Well, Ginger said she'd meet me down here to show off her new leather-" Nibble's reply was abruptly cut off, however, as Hormoany broke a urinal over his head. A look of understanding suddenly dawned on his blood-spattered face.
"Erm, I mean... forgot the password again."

Mr Belch sped around the corner.
"I distinctively heard the sound of adolescent breasts!" he hissed to his pet cougar, Mrs Notorious. Belch sniffed the air with his large, hairy nostrils.
"Yep. Fresh mammaries... young caucasian female... B-cup..." He sniffed again.
"...with traces of male saliva." he added. Hormoany began to whistle innocently.

"Well that settles that." Hormoany replied. "If you don't mind, I need my beauty sleep. I hope you don't have any other plans to get us all killed, or worse: make us infertile!"

Hairy lay awake, his mind ticking over. Haggis had swallowed the secret bundle for safe-keeping inside his enormous gut, and the vault where he had got it from had been broken into just after. As Haggis had been taking daily laxatives since their visit to Gangrene's, Hairy made a mental note to closely monitor Haggis' bowel movement over the following weeks, to discover what the secret parcel was, once ejected.
...thinking twice, he cancelled this mental note.

CHAPTER TEN
Profaner Flipwit looked up at Drachma.
"Actually, Master Malformed, Potted is quite within his rights to own a vacuum-cleaner in his first year to play Spinach. I could only confiscate it if he used it for... reasons you will learn of when you're older..."

With a blinding flash, Helpful Beaver appeared.
"Helpful Beaver to the rescue!" the pudgy rodent chanted. It began felling several large trees that were somehow growing inside Hairy's dormitory. Within minutes, a sizeable dam had been constructed in Hairy's doorway.

The multicoloured castor turned to leave, but Rum grabbed hold of the flowing yellow cape.
"Wait, Helpful Beaver! Will we ever see you again?" sobbed Rum tearfully. Helpful Beaver stood atop his newly-built dam as a beaming spotlight shimmered behind him.
"Though I leave now, know this: Wherever people are in distress, whenever there is injustice in the world, Helpful Beaver will be there!"

"You're Graafiandor's best Peeker since your father!" said Gorge. Hairy stopped mid-chew.
"My dad was Peeker?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course! It's in your genes!" replied Frig, before the two Bleaters got up and trundled off to dorm. Having only had a rudimentary scientific education, Hairy was quite baffled at this comment, suspicious at what exactly the 'gift' was in his jeans.

Hairy heard screams from the girls' lavatory and followed Rum inside to find Hormoany cowering on the floor beneath a giant Ahnold troll.
"Confuse it!" yelled Rum. He picked up a chunk of debris and threw it hard at the Austrian behemoth. It hit Hormoany.

From that night on, Hairy, Hormoany and Rum were the best of friends. There are some things that you can't share without ending up liking each other; and fighting off a giant foreign over-the-hill actor-turned-politician-whose-name-has-been-changed-to-conceal-his-identity was one of them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
"What's up with Snoop's limp?" asked Rum.
"Hope it's not gonorrhoea." Hormoany muttered.

Rum snapped a plastic glove over his hand and carefully lifted the back of Hairy's frilly tutu. Reaching deep inside, he pulled something from out of Hairy's behind. Hormoany gave a squeak of excitement.
"The Baldin' Snatch! Hairy caught it in his butt-cheeks as he was falling!"

CHAPTER TWELVE
Hairy unwrapped the present, revealing a hand-carved set of bagpipes. Hairy blew into them. A hollow hoot sounded, resembling that of a retarded parrot. Hodwog fluttered down from his perch and started chatting up the tartan instrument.

As Snoop drew closer and closer to the aisle where Hairy was crouched, a moment of inspiration occurred. Hairy tossed the book in his hand in the opposing direction as a diversion. The novel spiralled through an open window, across to Graafiandor tower, in through another open window... and hit Hormoany.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nibble plucked out the chintzy collector's disc.
"Hey Hairy, have you got the Dumbodork one yet?" Hairy's POV travelled from Nibble's pudgy face to an extreme close-up of the Dumbodork card. Dissonant violin chords wavered as we zoomed into Hairy's expression.
"Nickelass Flannel! I knew I'd seen Nickelass Flannel's name before!" Hairy shouted excitedly. Hormoany and Rum looked up at each other and slapped their foreheads at how stupid they had been.
"Of course! He's on the back of the Dumbodork disc!" said Rum. Hairy blinked.
"Oh... yeah... but I was referring to that." Hairy motioned to a gigantic portrait of Nickelass Flannel towering over the Graafiandor Cummin Room.

"It is nice to see you have kept your butt away from The Mirage of Erriered."

Profaner Quibble stood there moronically, thinking up synonyms for 'fez'.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Haggis offered them a mug of tea, which they each drank with a fork and hatchet.

"It also says here that they grow up to forty metres in length and can breathe fire within a matter of weeks." said Hairy.
"Haggis, you live in a wooden shelter." said Rum.
"Surrounded by several acres of dry grass and forest." added Hormoany.
"Not to mention the thirty tanks of flammable gas that Dumbodork had dumped in your garden!"

"My brother Gnarly works with dragons in Pyromania." said Rum.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Quit saying his name!" she hissed.
"Who's? Vulvamork's?" replied Hairy dull-wittedly.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At this, Profaner Snoop began cackling malevolently into Hairy's face. He turned with a swish of his tutu, still laughing maniacally, as the hem caught around his neck. Snoop struggled with it for a moment, bashing into a nearby pillar before overbalancing and toppling over the balcony into a pile of elephant dung two storeys below. After Snoop had spat out a mouthful of proboscidean faeces, there was a slight pause before his evil laughter started up once more.

The narrator slapped Rum across the face with a lantern.

"Oh no!" moaned Rum. "We haven't got an instrument to play!" he said, punching the wall in frustration, then wincing in pain. Hormoany gave an audible cough.
"Actually, we do. I borrowed Hairy's bagpipes for band camp practise..." She withdrew a large tangle of tartan and pipe from underneath her skirt. The boys ogled.
"Erm, Hormoany, I think you should play it!" muttered Hairy.

"Helpful Beaver to the rescue!" chanted Helpful Beaver.
"Jeepers, Helpful Beaver! A call of distress!" cried the caped Assisting Capybara.
"What appears to be the problem? Do you need another dam built?" asked Helpful Beaver, beginning to fell a few nearby elm trees.
"Ah, no, actually, we just need you to download us into…" Hairy trailed off. The caped Assisting Capybara had whipped out a metallic device of some sort.
"Leapin' lizards, Helpful Beaver! We need to work double-time! Tally ho!" he chirped, using his gnawing abilities to bring down the remaining trunks. Hairy sighed.

Helpful Beaver and the caped Assisting Capybara stood atop the giant dam they had just manufactured, leading out through the Crapdoor. A gleaming illumination radiated from behind them.
"Well, caped Assisting Capybara," began Helpful Beaver. "I guess we have once again foiled the powers of-" At that moment, Buttfluff descended down through the Crapdoor and tore off Helpful Beaver's head. The caped Assisting Capybara screamed in terror.
"Jumpin' jackrabbits!" Helpful Beaver was soon a pile of bloody shreds, as Buttfluff violently gorged down chunks of his raw flesh before turning on the remaining rodent. A bloodcurdling scream fell on deaf ears as Hairy, Rum and Hormoany arrived at their new destination

Choose, unless you wish to stay in here for evermore,
Until we finish this lame series up to number four.
These clues are sly and sneaky in revealing which is what,
So read them many times through 'til the answer you have got.
Firstly, the deadly viruses are the three in the middle,
The Macon wines are at the end, for you to wet your whistle.
The stein to get you forwards is the second from the right,
And second from the left returns all others from this plight.

Hairy crept down a dimly lit flight of stairs into a large room at the bottom. Someone was there, it wasn't Snoop or even Vulvamork… it was Haggis.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Haggis' flabby butt cheeks hung over the sides of a large chamber pot as he strained to excrete the Philanderer's Stein

"What do you see?" hissed Quibble.
"Err… a carrot!" said Hairy off the top of his head. "And it's got... some... cheese." Quibble eyed Hairy with an odd look.

Profaner Quibble began slowly removing his fez. Second after second, the fez was drawn back to dramatically reveal... his hair!
"Phew! That's better! My head was getting hot in this stuffy room." said Quibble. Suddenly, a horrific voice called out.
"Hairy Potted, I will now meet you face to face!" the voice rasped. Hairy backed away, looking for a way to escape..
"Now, Quibble! I am ready to face him!" Quibble lifted up his tutu… and flashed Potted.
"Sweet merciful crap!" screamed Hairy. Right where Quibble should have had… an appendage... was Nerd Vulvamork's head. It was chalk white, with bulging eyes, a jagged mouth and slits for nostrils... similar to the grotesquery of Michael Jackson's current visage.

With his last ounce of remaining strength, Profaner Quibble looked up from where he lay on the floor, a forest of flowers dancing on his head. He wore an expression of sombrero pride, of ruthless flowers, of raven terror- of incest and Popeless despatch.
He looked back through the pages of time travel gone wrong, of endless references to excrement and cheese... The man cried out twice, a cry no more than a whisper:
"The terror! The terror!"

Hairy was interrupted by a seagull regurgitating into a deodorant can .

Dumbodork cleared his throat, a fleck of oesophagus slime cartwheeling across the room.

"So, after all the fricking trouble we went to…" began Hormoany coldly.
"Risking our fricking lives to save the fricking Philanderer's Stein from the hands of the most powerful fricking villain in the fricking world…" continued Rum icily.
"Those fricking fools decide to DESTROY THE FRICKING THING?!" they screamed in unison. As the three Graafiandors stood panting with suppressed fury. Kevin slowly wheeled his way up from the Forbidding Forest, in through the Entranced Hall, along the wheelchair-access ramp up to the sick bay and stopped alongside the protagonists.
"I like cheese!" he said, before wheeling back out of sick bay, down the wheelchair-access ramp, out of the Entranced Hall and into the Forbidding Forest again. 

"Graafiandor loses all of their points." It was silent with shock as the Graafiandor thermometer, which had just shot up from a giant hole in the soil, emptied down to ground level. Dumbodork continued on without a wink.
"To add to this, it was poor school spirit when certain students had lost three million points. Hence, all students who partook in any jeering will lose all the points that you may have earned throughout the year." The Silverys, Ravercorks and Hecklepucks gaped in flabbergasted awe as the jelly crystals emptied out from their own  thermometers. The final result was zero to all, except… one point to Hecklepuck.
"It appears that the retard Kevin was the only one who didn't engage in this despicable behaviour." said Dumbodork. All eyes turned to Kevin, who was currently wearing his plate as a hat and balancing a number of cheeses atop it.

Waiting at the station was Mrs Weakly. She ran up past Rum, ignoring him completely, and embraced Hairy in a big bear hug.

As Hairy lay back to ease the pain of the bumpy road on his sore body, he felt a crumpled scroll of toilet paper in his pocket. Unfolding it with difficulty in the cramped space of the car boot, Hairy held up the slip of greasy tissue to a ray of sunlight that was streaming through a hole caused by rust. He read it aloud:
'I like cheese.'
A warm feeling filled his insides and Hairy knew that everything was going to be fine.
But even so, he would have to wait a mighty long time until his next year at Dogfarts Institute of Wizardry and Weird Plots, but he had to, so he did...
...wait.
Yep.
...yep yep.
He waited and waited...
...aaand waited.

So you decided to post it all over again.

*giraffes copulate*

Now it is not even funny.

"More like YOU'RE a sub-terranean Shift-key!"

-Rum, Changer of Sequins

"More like YOU'RE a sub-terranean Shift-key!"

-Rum, Changer of Sequins


Luke, you are digging yourself a grave.  Stop posting your clever little quotes before you start decomposing. 

'Yeah, that's my gig.'

-nevohteeB

'Yeah, that's my gig.'

-nevohteeB



*cuts own throat out with scissors*

Cooooorny. 

Sorry. Back to Conspiracising.

... who's up for some Neville/Luna/Ron love-triangle shipping?

OH NO.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=5601561868

Sorry. Back to Conspiracising.

... who's up for some Neville/Luna/Ron love-triangle shipping?

OH NO.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=5601561868


LMAO, Luke...am I still the highest bidder?

I could be up for a little Neville/Luna, but Ron belongs to Harry.  Sorry.

If any of you have seen the Potter Puppet Pals, Dumbledore's emphasis on 'love' throughout the book could not strike me as profound, as I kept hearing him say 'Alas.  A cornucopia of love.' 

I just remembered how obvious it was that Malfoy was the one sobbing to Myrtle, too.
Hmm... that's the only time he seems to have expressed emotion... when he's with Myrtle... a little lavatory loving going on here?

I saw the Puppet Pals a while ago...  I remember something about them pissing off Snape. Then doing it again. Then shooting him.

I saw the Puppet Pals a while ago...  I remember something about them pissing off Snape. Then doing it again. Then shooting him.

Ah, but you're confusing "Bothering Snape" with " Trouble at Hogwarts".

Bothering Snape = "Bothabothabothabothabotha..."  "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Trouble at Hogwarts = "I love to learn."  "I love magic."  "I love you, Harry!"  "Uh." 

Link me.

(my 'c' button is broken...)

Link me.

(my 'c' button is broken...)


Thar she blows. You'll have to click on either 'view in new window' or...the other one.  Yep. 

Not another one.

I just spent five minutes trying to confogure the volume, when my headphones were in my CD player.

Dynamite: "IDIOT!"

Dynamite: "IDIOT!"


Bonaparte: "Women are nothing but machines for producing children."

Bonaparte was a twat. What, so WE'RE the ones supposed to cook, clean and change the diapers?

*attempts a glance at Emi's feet under pretense of perving on cleavage*
Hmm, it's harder to tell from ankle socks... mediums?...

Pettigrew's silver hand... used to kill Lupin?

Pettigrew's silver hand... used to kill Lupin?

Sounds feasible.  Also, I think Voldemort is a vampire.  Why else would his name be so close to Vlad?  ;D

I guess they should serve steaks with garlic at the end of book seven.

Pettigrew's silver hand... used to kill Lupin?


Very well could be, as Voldemort probably knows that Lupin's part of the underground werewolf clan now...I sure hope not, though.  Lupin is one of my very, very favorite characters. 

Voldemort is obviously not a vampire to anyone who read the boooks and knows almost his entire life story. Unless... the final horcrux is located in some vampire somewhere

Voldemort is obviously not a vampire to anyone who read the boooks and knows almost his entire life story. Unless... the final horcrux is located in some vampire somewhere


Ah, but you forgot to take into account that JKR likes to rearrange names and Voldemort = "voter mold" and Harry Potter = "retro thrapy"  It's too clear.

Sounds feasible. Also, I think Voldemort is a vampire. Why else would his name be so close to Vlad? ;D

I guess they should serve steaks with garlic at the end of book seven.


Voldemort, oozing blood from his chest: "I admit, that was a well done stake."


I'm still racking my nuts off over who Regulus could be. If keeping with her 'Sirius Black' theme of him as a black dog, then Regulus (a star of Leo) would be lion-like... is he the current Minister of Magic?! Regulus/Rufus... with mane'like hair... not too much of a stretch there.



Lupin is one of my very, very favorite characters.

I didn't like the guy who played Lupin in the film. He was pale but... ugly. I always had a sort of younger Robin Williams in mind. And the current Mad-Eye Moody isn't nearly as mutilated enough... and Seamus' left foot is smaller than the other... and where do I even START with Peeves?...

I'm still racking my nuts off over who Regulus could be. If keeping with her 'Sirius Black' theme of him as a black dog, then Regulus (a star of Leo) would be lion-like... is he the current Minister of Magic?! Regulus/Rufus... with mane'like hair... not too much of a stretch there.

Oh, come off it.  No way the Ministry would appoint a former Death Eater.  Especially since he was a former Auror...or so they say.  All the same, Regulus would be a bit younger than Sirius was, wouldn't he?


I didn't like the guy who played Lupin in the film. He was pale but... ugly. I always had a sort of younger Robin Williams in mind. And the current Mad-Eye Moody isn't nearly as mutilated enough... and Seamus' left foot is smaller than the other... and where do I even START with Peeves?...


Yeah, I know.  I could hear the groans of a million fangirls as they took first glance at Prof. Lupin's hideously un-cute mustache and...giggle...werewolf comb-over.  Bleugh. 

Their pick for Krum, though...no complaints here. 
"Why must I be so swarthy, Bulgarian and ogleworthy?"
http://www.novinite.com/media/images/2005-03/46109.jpg

Oh, come off it.  No way the Ministry would appoint a former Death Eater. 

He's in disguise, CHILD-PRODUCING MACHINE! If Barty Crouch could go nine months right under Dumbledore's coroked nose without arousing suspicion until a dire situation arose, surely Regulus could... nah, you're right. What the Protean charm was I thinking?
I think there'll be something hidden in that caved-in secret passage way on the Marauder's Map. On J.K. Rowling's webpage she released three chapter headings a few months before publishing and one of them was 'Draco's Detour'. So I was so under the impression that Draco had cleared that tunnel and was gunna be doing something in there.

Ha! Can't wait to prove these morons wrong: Totally in denial

"Why must I be so four years out of high school?"
http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y110/dragonangelfairy/FullKrum.jpg

(Yes, I'm a sucker for green screen.)

I think there'll be something hidden in that caved-in secret passage way on the Marauder's Map. On J.K. Rowling's webpage she released three chapter headings a few months before publishing and one of them was 'Draco's Detour'. So I was so under the impression that Draco had cleared that tunnel and was gunna be doing something in there.

"Why must I be so four years out of high school?"
http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y110/dragonangelfairy/FullKrum.jpg

(Yes, I'm a sucker for green screen.)


Aren't we all...*drools*

Alright...the locket:  it is a horcrux, Voldemort planted the fake note there from R.A.B. to throw whoever found it off.  Harry realizes sometime in book 7 that he's had the last horcrux in his pocket the whole time.

...nah, Dumbledore's hand was all charred from handling the ring Horcrux (unless it was caused by him lifting Snape's Unbreakable Vow thingy) so I doubt the necklace wouldn't have a curse on it for protection, too.
(And I also like to think my Mundungus Fletcher-stole-it-form-Sirius'-house notion is better than anything Jeff can come up with. 
;)  Joking, joking...)

What I've been pondering about is if (what am I saying) BECAUSE Dumbledore staged his death... (which is why the portrait in the office is only dozing... as he didn't really die but was in a Juliet-like state of unconsciousness)... what will Harry's reaction be?
I think HARRY WILL KILL DUMBLEDORE in a maddened emotional rage for not being told the death was being staged, even though it was in his interest so as to use the element of surprise on Voldemort, as Harry tends to go off about such things.

...nah, Dumbledore's hand was all charred from handling the ring Horcrux (unless it was caused by him lifting Snape's Unbreakable Vow thingy) so I doubt the necklace wouldn't have a curse on it for protection, too.
(And I also like to think my Mundungus Fletcher-stole-it-form-Sirius'-house notion is better than anything Jeff can come up with. 
;)  Joking, joking...)

What I've been pondering about is if (what am I saying) BECAUSE Dumbledore staged his death... (which is why the portrait in the office is only dozing... as he didn't really die but was in a Juliet-like state of unconsciousness)... what will Harry's reaction be?
I think HARRY WILL KILL DUMBLEDORE in a maddened emotional rage for not being told the death was being staged, even though it was in his interest so as to use the element of surprise on Voldemort, as Harry tends to go off about such things.


But if there was a curse on the necklace like the ring, that would be a giveaway that it's a horcrux.  Voldemorts hope would be that with the note left, and a different locket, this locket would be forgotten/tossed away.  Or maybe there is a curse but it only kicks in if you try to destroy it.  Or maybe I'm full of it =)  Either way, I think this locket will have some significance in Book 7.

Snape's allegiance obviously won't be cut-and-dry...I'm still not sure who's side he's on.

Draco will be killed and have a ghost-wedding to Moaning Myrtle

Blimming heck, this took me HOOOOOOOOOOOOOURS to cull down, expectheaps of typos.
I think my parody was bigger than the original at 75000 words. *remenisces back to the good ol' days*

Hairy Potted and the Changer of Sequins

--CHAPTER ONE--

Once upon a time, a magical elephantorous lived on a hill. He died.

Not for the first time, a prisoner had broken out of his low-security cell. An argument had also broken out at the local lighthouse, current residence of the Parsley Orphanage For Unlucky Youth. Having been unable to swim back to land after Hairy and Haggis had stolen their canoe, the Parsleys had simply remained living for the past year in a lighthouse located in the middle of the town pool.

In order to rescue his luggage and flatulent pet parrot, Hairy had needed the assistance of a gas bomb he had purchased from e-bay, two hundred metres of dental floss and the assistance of a geriatric walrus on a bulldozer. The bulldozer was still parked out on the lawn. Hairy looked at it and thought 'yellow' before being brought back to reality by Ant Peculiar cuffing his head.

"He's frightened of the wallpaper! You know his feelings on sub-automatic artillery!"

The twenty-two other nameless orphans were on the ground ferreting about for dropped grain.
"Eat up, sweetums," cooed Ant Peculiar, dolloping a kilogram of mayonnaise onto Dullard's enormous plate. The tubby teenager's mouth opened as wide as a bucket and he manoeuvered his head across the table, gorging plate and all .

"Never went hungry when I was at Smellings!" Mr Parsley pronounced proudly, casting a reminiscent glance at a photograph on the wall showing a young Vermin sporting a large Afro and adorned in matching flares and orthodontic headgear.

Dullard's figure was so large that when he sat AROUND the table, he really... ate a lot.

"…Dogfarts." Answered Hairy. The effect of this simple sentence had a drastic effect. For, you see, the flutter of his tongue blew across the room, out past the window and across the ocean, resulting in a tornado in Japan, killing hundreds. Moreover, Unco Vermin had abruptly broke off from his tantric yoga exercises and was advancing towards Hairy like a rhino on heat.
"WHAT HAVE I SAID ABOUT USING THE 'DF' WORD IN OUR HOUSEHOLD?" he yelled furiously. Hairy blinked.
"What? Donkey Fuc-?" he began.
"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!" Mr Parsley bellowed.

Hairy Potted was not a normal boy. In fact, he was about as abnormal as it is possible to be… Hairy was a girl.

Hairy Potted had lived at the Parsley Orphanage For Unlucky Youth ever since he was a baby, as Nerd Vulvamork… oh, come on, you should know this all by now. I mean, are you really stupid enough to read the sequel before the first of the series?

Unco Vermin cleared his throat. This required a towel wrapped around a stick being shoved down his oesophagus.

"Dog gone!" he exclaimed, hosing off the canine guts and hair that were caking his legs with blood.

Hairy had always found his fort in the backyard as a place of solace, he had often retreated into it to brood ever since finding it on the side of the road during council clean-up week. Mr Parsley kept insisting that it was not somebody's rubbish left on the side of the road, but a bus shelter, but Hairy simply turned a deaf ear.

He tirelessly painted the garden, mulched the tool shed, pedicured the windows, mowed the swimming pool and re-chlorinated the lighthouse roof.

"Hodwog! Those newspapers aren't for reading!" scowled Hairy, elbow-deep in guano.

"What a loser!" Dullard said, a twisted smiled on his chubby face. Unco Vermin and Ant Peculiar grinned. The three then simultaneously chuckled. Their laughs got louder and developed into guffaws. Soon they were all cackling at Hairy at the top of their lungs, their hair dancing about merrily at his expense. Hairy crunched his dry noodles in withdrawn silence.

--CHAPTER TWO--

The front doorbell sounded the mating call of the polar bear.

Hodwog's heap of viscous ordure disappeared in a flash of carcinogenic radiation.

The tiny creature leapt onto Hairy and gave him a hug, secretly pinching his wallet.

Ant Peculiar could be heard above, coaxing the guests to join her in a game of Twister.

"Dodgy has never been told to sit in a fresh pile of crap... like an equal!" he sobbed.

Hairy frowned again. He felt like this was a highly frownable paragraph.

"Hairy Potted, you truly are a great wizard!" said Dodgy, his breast implants bobbing up and down in unison with his head.
"I'm not that good, I mean, Hormoany's much better at-" Hairy stopped. Having had been snubbed for the past few weeks, thinking about Hormoany was painful.
"And Rum can do-" Hairy stopped. Having had been snubbed for the past few weeks, thinking about Rum was painful. To take his mind off how his best two friends had been avoiding him, Hairy sat down on Hodwog's cage. He stopped. After such a long time with a soft buttocks, seating himself on the sharp tip of a wire cage was painful.

Hairy knelt down closer to hear. Hodwog rolled his cage along the floor to a better vantage point. Gavin popped up out of a sewage pipe and listened in, too.

"If Hairy Potted goes to Dogfarts... he will encounter sexual fetishes and excessive profanity among the incorporation of detailed gross bodily functions!" piped Dodgy, engaging in wanton troilism and coprophilia with two sapphic passers-by, whilst lactating from his bulbous breasts.

"Keep it down, Potted! You just ruined my politically-incorrect joke involving the World Trade Centre and Geri Halliwell!" Mr Parsley cuffed Hairy's head with a rubber duck and strode back upstairs.

"Have you been stealing my socks?!" Hairy roared. Dodgy raised an eyebrow.
"Erm, no... Dodgy has been stealing all the birch whips from your friends." said the house-imp. Hairy faltered.
"Oh, you know what I mean! Socks, letters… tom-ay-to, pot-ar-to!" Dodgy kept his eyebrow raised..

The margarine statue of Buddha was swiftly flung up to the very roof of the lighthouse, stuck to the ceiling upside-down in a pose of deep meditation.

The man looked from Hairy to Dodgy to Mrs Parsley on the floor with the deceased camel. His gaze slowly moved upwards to the giant Buddha above his head. At that precise moment, the suction holding the margarine to the ceiling gave in to gravity.

"Doe, a deer, a female Dear Hairy Potted,
We detected a 'Last Glob Of Margarine' Cleaning Charm at your residence precisely fourteen and a half seconds past eight twenty two. Wizard minors are forbidden to use  sorcery in the presence of Muffins at the risk of being forced to repeat the same old tricks for decades on end. (David Copperfield Muffin Decree, 1992, Section B: 'Siegfried and Roy.')
Yours since merely, Maffled Popsmirk.

Unco Vermin's face went from celadon to magenta to a mottled cerulean within a matter of seconds.

He leered maniacally at Hairy, a wild glint in his eye. Then he giggled. Then he chuckled. This slowly became a thunderous chortling of mirth as he dragged Hairy away.

Hairy found the following moments a blur of sprinting up stairs whilst dodging bullets from the SWAT team and helicopter circling around the building… all too soon Hairy found himself spread-eagled ontop of the lighthouse with thousands of silhouette people below, the freezing rain pelting his body as searing spotlights blazed over his body. The last words he heard were "HAIRY POTTED, THROW YOUR MISTEMPERED BATON TO THE GROUND!"
 
--CHAPTER THREE--

A gangly, orange-haired someone was smiling at him through a large hole in the glass.
"Yahoo Serious?!" blurted Hairy.

The guano pile exploded with a loud bang, splattering them all with white muck. Sheriff Raff coughed from the room next to Hairy's cell. Frig and Gorge lowered Hairy's suitcase into the van with a thump. In the next room, Sheriff Raff gave a grunt. Hairy followed Rum into the van and slammed the door. Sheriff Raff hiccuped, urinated, burped, farted, quoted the entire works of Shakespears and vomited up his dudoenum.

"See you next year!" called Hairy. The Weaklys didn't roar with laughter, as it wasn't at all funny.
"See you next year, ya f***ing pounce!" called Hairy. The Weaklys roared with laughter, for, as we all know, crude profanity is a satisfying substitute for actual wit.

And so they rode, beneath the ground.
They rode their Kombi, homeward bound.
With purple, green and psychedelic,
Tones of spray paint on the relic .
They drilled underneath roads and plains.
They drilled through almost all terrains.
The van ploughed earth like no tomorrow,
As they all headed for The Furrow.

Frig dodged a triceratops fossil and continued on towards the east.

Gorge lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Well, I overheard Dad and Mom talking about the Malformeds a while ago. Apparently, Drachma's father, Luscious, was a Breath Hater!" He flashed a torch under his face and began wailing "WOOOOOH!"

Mrs Weakly was at the door. She stormed up the path, scattering chickens and penguins as she went. For a short, plump woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a Tunisian Crimson-Bellied Squid.

"Well, well, well." hissed Mrs Weakly in a deadly whisper.
"Well." gulped Frig.
"Well!" laughed Rum nervously.
"Well?" asked Hairy.

"YOU SHOULD TAKE A LEAF OUT OF PERKY'S BOOK!" screeched Mrs Weakly. "Why is there a leaf in his book?" asked Rum.

"Yeah, I bet Germy wouldn't mind being kidnapped and trapped down a giant hole in your cellar." sniggered Gavin, miming a poodle being pulled down into a pit.
"Who the hell are you?" asked Hairy. Gavin shrugged and exited stage left, toting his flippers and scuba-diving gear.

A Fabio-type man, inevitably bisexual and a posterchild of plastic-surgery, had his face smeared across the front cover. The animated image gave each of them a thumbs up, flashing his unblemished cuticles and strawberry nail polish.

Hairy's gnome closely resembled a cross-breed between a geriatric gopher with asthma and an ambitious giraffe.

The boys finished clearing out the gnomes contaminating the pool using bath foam, singing crude limericks and finally dropping in a hair dryer.

"This morning I wake up to see our Kombi van burst up from the asthenosphere! The one you secretly jinxed to have one of those spiralling-drills on the front that you only see lame cartoon villains driving!" roared Mrs Weakly. Mr Weakly had suddenly become intrigued by decaying butterfly carrion on the floor.

"Which Hairy Potted?" asked Mr Weakly, patting his orange, potted hair.
"Hairy Potted Hairy Potted." said Hairy Potted.
"Hello Hairy Potted!" said Mr Weakly as he patted Hairy Potted's hairy, potted hair.

"What are you doing in Germy's room?" Rum asked. Gavin shrugged in reply, munching from a large dodecahedron of ricotta cheese. Hairy and Rim slowly backed out and closed the door.

As they entered Rum's room, Hairy felt as though he had been shrunk by a bumbling nerd father and dropped into a blender full of oranges.

"Shut up!" the narrator replied, narrating the narrator's own self-narration.

Hairy looked around at the shabby wallpaper, poorly insulated walls, leaky floor, faulty heating system and the dented mattress he was to be sleeping on for another two weeks.
"Rum, this is the best house I've ever been in!" he said, grinning widely.
"Just behind Dogfarts, The Parsley Orphanage, Haggis' fallout shelter, the lighthouse broom closet, my bus shelter…"

The two stood moronically for the next thirty minutes, attempting to fill out the rest of the page by using elaborate 'P' words, such as: probabilistically, palaeoethnography, pteroylmonoglutamic, photoconductivity, piquancy, phosphorescence, pachycephalosaur, punctiliousness, phlegmatically, pasteurisation, parenchyma, Pteridospermaphyta,  passementerie, ponderously, pragmatically, pirozhki, pathologically, pycnodysostosis, psychotherapeutics, pedunculate, phaneromania, pulchritudinous, perambulation, perseveringly, phantasmagorical, pertinaciously, pestiferous, pfannkuchen, Phalacrocoracidae, pseudopsuedohypoparathyroidism, porphyritic, paediatrician, pseudohermaphroditic, paleencephalon, poikilothermous, pseudoantidisestablishmentarianism, pizzazz and pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicavolcanoconiosis.

--CHAPTER FOUR--

At the Parsley Orphanage, Hairy would spray on deodorant to rid himself of body odour for the next twelve minutes whereas at the Weaklys' house, an ecnhanted toilet-brush would yell out 'You smell like sheesh!' every time somebody passed.

Mrs Weakly force-fed Hairy fourths at breakfast, using a cheese grater, a funnel and a solution of nitric soda.

"Fascinating! I always wondered how Muffins did it without sorcery! So, you say they come in assorted colours and flavours..."

The Weakly's cheap Internet-refirgerator beeped.
"You is get mail!" it chirped in a warbled Pidgin-English, a series of Japanese symbols appearing on the screen.
"Ooh, we are get mail!" beamed Mrs Weakly.

Hairy read the message, not caring to lick his lips, adjust his monocles, smoke, call his secretary to hold any calls or hold the suspense of just reading the darn thing; as he would usually do to lengthen the paragraph.

"So, you're starting at Dogfarts this year?" Hairy asked Germy, who jumped nervously, spilling her bowl of Newt Loops.

Rum's Pooping Starch was also outstripped by butterflies, obese dung-beetles and wounded geriatric gophers with asthma.

"Now, you just grab a handful of this Floozy Chowder and download yourself through the net to your destination Internet refrigerator." said Mr Weakly, holding out a container to Rum, who inserted his hand, then gave a loud cry of disgust.
"Eugh! This isn't the Floozy Chowder container! It's a chamber pot!"

"Don't get Javascript on your shoes, it doesn't come off." added Germy.
"And stay away from pop-up advertisements!" said Mrs Weakly.

"Ardour, what did Hairy type as his destination?" she asked.
"I believe it was Sedish for 'kemp tephra mollusc unit'." replied Mr Weakly.
"I thought so." Mrs Weakly said.

Hairy proceeded to exit the sleazy store when he spotted a familiar face through the glass. Drachma Malformed and his father Luscious were about to enter, so Hairy swiftly concealed himself in a large barrel of see-through lingerie. The two peroxide-drenched  Malformeds strode through the door up to the front desk. Mr Malformed rang a bell, which sounded a germaid's orgasm.

Drachma was perusing a table of vampire lubricants.
"Touch nothing!" hissed Mr Malformed, as Drachma squirted the contents of a red tube onto his hand. He attempted to wipe it off, but it had stained his fingers blood-red, like his previous encounter with Hormoany Ginger in an empty classroom. (She had a bleeding nose, you sick pervert!)

Hairy pried a G-string from his ear to hear the conversation better.

"Well, Mr Malformed sir, surely the Minionstry wouldn't trouble non-Muslim families such as yourself in raids for terrorist-related pornography." said Mr Boring. Luscious Malformed's lips curled. He uncurled them with an iron.

"The Hand of Glukky caters for all of your onanistic carnal pleasures and is also very useful for those visiting Coles with deep pockets!" Mr Malformed sniffed derisively.
"I do not wish my son to become a common Brattoni!"

The three-eyed ogre behind the counter watched the Malformeds leave with a scowl.
"If the rumours are true, you've only sold me half your Weapons of Masturbation!"

The majority of stores in Nicotine Gully sold kinky leather whips, cheap goats and large barrels of water-based axle-grease.

Hairy's worst fears were confirmed when an immaculate priest stepped out from a nearby chapel.
"Good morning, young man." greeted the man warmly. "Are you lost? Come, I'll pay for a taxi to get you back home." said the priest genially. Hairy emitted a blood-curdling scream and started backing away. He knocked into someone behind him. It was a pulchritudinous gaggle of nuns.
"Oh, you poor lad! Come inside for cookies, milk and chocolate." they said. Hairy screamed and sprinted in the opposite direction. Dozens of cherubic people began leaning out of their shops with friendly, accommodating grins of reassurance.
"Would you like to stay in my luxurious mansion for the night?" said one.
"Here, I have a helicopter you could borrow!" said another. Hairy thumped into a wooden door, which opened as he hit the ground.
"Hello there! Would you like to meet my daughter, Sonja. She's a professional gymnast and can bend herself into aaany shape you want. She'll do aaanything for some parrot guano to feed her plants!"
"NOOO!!!" Hairy screeched, his heart pumping as he continued on.  

"What were you doing in there, Haggis?" Hiary enquired. Haggis quickly withdrew a bag of Flesh-Eating Sloth Repellent.
"I was just gettin' this. They're gobblin' up all o' the Dogfarts cabbages." he replied. Hairy blinked.
"But they're Flesh-Eating. Why would they eat cabbages?"

Hormoany ran down the steps, her long tongue flapping behind her. She jumped down the last flight of stairs, her skirt flying up to reveal she wasn't wearing knickers. (She was wearing bike shorts you filthy pervert!)

"We've never been allowed." said Gorge enviously.
"You've been aloud in everything you say." joked Germy. Haggis cuffed her head.

At the sight of Hormoany's Muffin parents, Mr Weakly's eyes lit up like a sadist in a massage parlour. Mr and Mrs Ginger were waiting in line to swapping their British currency for wizarding money.
"These slimy bastards will treat you like Jenny Craig." said Mr Weakly.
"How so?" asked Mrs Ginger.
"You'll certainly end up losing a few dozen pounds!"

The three Graafiandors squeezed their way into the bookstore, past the bustling assembly of celibate menopausal women.

Escapin from Lophart, they moved off to a secluded corner of the shop.
"Stunning performance, Potted!" rang a familiar voice. Hairy looked up and gasped. It wasn't Snoop, it wasn't Vulvamork, it wasn't even Haggis. It was Malformed.

After creating a new paragraph for no evident reason, Germy spoke out.
"Leave Hairy alone! He didn't know it was a hermaphrodite porno!"
"Oh look, Potted's got himself a girlfriend!" drawled Drachma nastily. Hairy grinned.
"Better than an inflatable crocodile with Hormoany's face pasted on!" he retorted. Malformed flushed, loosening his tie and looking about guiltily.

Mr Weakly flushed redder than a Jaffa in tomato sauce.  
"We have a different view of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Luscious," he hissed, lowering his voice. "Not flushing after you'd used a Port-a-loo at Witchstock, then not washing your hands afterwards!" Mr Malformed's face contorted with fury.
"How dare you repeat that in public!" he shouted. The two men leapt onto each other and started a furious thumb-wrestle. Haggis swiftly separated the two men, holding them at arms' length. Mr Malformed's cuticle was slightly mangled and Mr Weakly had a bruised metacarpophalangeal joint. Both men panted heavily, sweat trickling down their middle-aged heads. Luscious Malformed recovered his composure before spitting on the floor
"Fine! Take your textbook back, you stupid girl!" he said, tossing it towards Germy. It hit Hormoany.

Mr Weakly kept badgering the Gingers to explain the purpose of a bus stop.
"Well, now you mention it, someone stole ours a few weeks ago, for some odd reason involving a cubby house in the back yard…" said Mr Ginger.

Haggis was left to finish off several gallons of eggnog. (The chicken foetus in a bottle! You can feel the embryo melt in your mouth! Banned in two continents, ninety two countries and eight separate religions! Fried, not baked! The 'nog' stands for 'conceptus rejected after stem-cells have been removed, leaving the body to be ground up into this tepid, milky beverage!' It's cheap! Cheep cheep! Visit your local slaughterhouse now!)

After another nauseating journey through cyberspace, a very battered Hairy was spewed out of the Weakly's freezer compartment. His elbow was lodged into his groin and he had a sneaking suspicion that he was missing a shoe, along with the foot in it.

Mrs Weakly was bandaging the slits across her body from an encounter with a hacker. Rum was suffering concussion and all cranial orifices were oozing blood onto the floor. Germy was in a mild coma and the Siamese Weakly twins had been separated during the journey, both painstakingly stitching their torsos back to each other.

Floozy Chowder was definitely not Hairy Potted's favourite way to travel, but heck, it beat public transportation.

--CHAPTER FIVE--

The usual welcome that Hairy received from the Parsleys was a kick in the rear and a stale popsicle shaped like Richard Nixon.

It was soon time for a mug of hot chocolate and bed. (How the bed managed to fit into a mug with the hot chocolate is still unknown.)

"Ready?" asked Rum.
"YOU WISH." replied Hairy boldly, whipping his baton up to his face dramatically.
"…huh?" said Rum, eyeing Hairy suspiciously.
"Don't worry, I will be." replied Hairy boldly, his face half-cast in shadow.

"The parabolic nature of our decreasing velocity is scarily similar to that of the effects of gravity." noted Rum.
"Yes, indicating that Ralphing's Law of Fiction appears to have a slight flaw." said Hairy, reaching terminal height.

The two looked around for another entry point. Only a few items littered the floor: a coat hanger, some dental floss and a can of sarsaparilla.
"I've got it!" shouted Rum. "We tie the dental floss around the coat hanger and rig it to the carbonated soda can, then shake the can until the top pops off, sending the coat hanger up to the station like a makeshift grapnel hook!"

Hairy vibrated for a moment, his male genetics kicking in.
"Oh fine! Race you to the van!" he yelled, bowling over two geriatrics with his trolley as he sprinted away.

Hairy could hardly wait until they got back to Dogfarts... but he had to, so he did.
 
Rum jerked on a squash racquet suspended from the van roof, causing the Kombi to burst up through the soil. Clods of earth caked the large drill at the front.
"All that and a bag of tomato chips." said Hairy. Gavin secretly agreed.

Hairy could see Hormoany and Perverted Petal combing each other's hair. In the next carriage along, a metal pitchfork was brushing Nibble Lungbuttock's hair. Hairy slowly turned to face Rum.
"Um, how exactly are we seeing in through their windows if they're on a flying cow?" he asked. Rum slowly turned to face Hairy.
"And how am I able to properly steer if I'm looking at you?"

"Oh well, all we have to worry about now are low flying aeroplanes!" joked Rum. Hairy and Rum burst into laughter, then quickly veered out of the way of a jumbo jet.
"Next stop, Dogfarts Institute of Wizardry and Weird Plots!" yelled Rum excitedly.
"Shut up, Rum." spat Hairy.

"Aaargh! Get off the windscreen, Gavin!" yelled Rum. Gavin was heating his oxygen tanks and draining the fumes through his mouthpiece like a giant pressurised bong. The Kombi had dark fumes billowing out of the bonnet.
"Bloody hell!" cursed the van. "Haven't you bastards heard of second-hand smoke?"

"Watch out for that tree!" yelled George of the Jungle.

With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood and flesh on upholstery, the van rammed into a large plant, slamming to the ground with an abrupt Jolt cola.

"Oh no!" grimaced Rum, looking in the rear-view mirror. "It's a Humping Sallow!" One long bough rhythmically slapped the boot of the can as grunts of pleasure emanated from the tree. Hairy retched into an ashtray. This was more disgusting than a security tape he had seen of a woman falling into a giraffe pen during mating season!

“Well, let’s make like a tree and… get the fudge out of here!”

The Sorting Hatch was dividing the newcomers into their fraternity houses. Germy was easily visible in the group, her orange hair rather obvious amongst all of the other students' shades of blue.

"Profaner Snoop isn't at the staff table!" said Rum.
"Maybe he's sick!" suggested Hairy.
"Maybe he's been fired!" added Rum.
"Or maybe he's waiting behind you to find out why you weren't on the Dogfarts Excess today." came a dark voice from behind them.
"Or maybe he's horribly disfigured from a poaching spill!" continued Hairy. Profaner Snoop coughed indignantly.
"Ahem. I just said that I was right behi-" he began.
"Maybe he finally did get gonorrheoa!" 

Profaner MuckGonadal wore a bright green zucchini-mask on her face and was listening to rap music when they entered her office.

"Where is this van that the Humping Sallow is bragging about to the rest of the flora? Something about a 'car jacking' and getting some 'pussy willow'."

Hairy's stomach clenched together.
"Sorry!" chirped Gavin, removing the vice from around Hairy's torso.

When Hairy had last sent a cyber-message using Hodwog, it had ended up reaching its destination via a detour of Peru, Uruguay, New Zealand and Mauritania.

The two ate alone in the Grate hall, as everyone else had left to go to bed, or else engage in glacier climbing.

--CHAPTER SIX--

Hormoany seemed about impressed with the boys' adventure as she was with the four-inch sausages at breakfast.

The Bawler exploded into flames, showering the room with confetti. A small pile of ashes was all that remained on the table, smoking calmly as an exposed golden ring with Elvish writing engraved along the edg- damn it! Wrong story again!

CLANG! CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!!! 
"Who dropped that pin?"

"That's the ticket!" beamed Lophart.
"What ticket?" asked Hairy, as Dildoroy dragged him away by the nipples.
"Hairy, Hairy!" sighed Lophart. Completely flummoxed, Hairy said nothing.
"Hairy, Hairy, Hairy," continued Lophart. "Hai-ry Hairy; Hairy Hairy Hairy? Hairy!"
"What?!" said Hairy, thoroughly irritated at the moronic man.
"Gave you a taste for fame, didn't I, Hairy? Gave you the bug!" Lophart said. Hairy yelped, brushing a large bug from his arm.

"Hairy, Hairy, Hairy." interrupted Lophart, now attempting a record for the most amount of times 'hairy' is said in a paragraph. "Try not to attract too much attention. People will think you're a bit arrogant!" He gave Hairy a hearty wink and ran off, yelling:
"Look at me! Look at me!" at a passing group of Ravercorks.

Justout Finch-Retching sidled over to their table and began yammering on about his entire life story without any apparent reason.
"My Muffin dad was a bit wary of me coming here, but after reading about Dildoroy Lophart, he's seen the benefits of magic. Boy, that Lophart is brave isn't he? I'd have been scared stiff if a taxation officer had me cornered in a toilet cubicle; but he remained calm and… POW!"

After the potting of the Mandrins was completed, Justout Finch-Retching accidentally potted Hairy.
"Whoops! Now I see why they call you Hairy Po-"
"Don't say it!" snapped Hairy.

After a quick meteor shower to wash off, the Graafiandors hurried along to Transmogrification class.

"What have we got next?" he asked Hormoany, passing her timetable over through a mouthful of chameleon patty. Rum looked over it.
"I see it's a double Deference against the Bleak Arts. But why…" began Rum.
"Why have you outlined all of Dildoroy Lophart's lessons with pink hearts?" Hormoany blushed and attempted to snatch back the schedule. Rum continued.
"Plus all of Flipwit's, Snoop's, Stout's, MuckGonadal's…"

Half of the surrounding students were tuning in to hear Hairy and Malformed fight, the others would simply watch highlights at six with Janine.

"ONE MORE TOE OUT OF LINE AND IT'S OFF TO THE PODIATRIST!"

Dildoroy Lophart swaggered up, hitching high his silk pantaloons.
"I'll do a cameo for you! Get Potter and I in the one scene and I'll work on the DVD commentary afterwards!" Malformed sidled off smirking as Colon Creamy filmed a panning long-shot of Rum’s nostrils for his opening credits.

Lophart posed at his desk, motioning to the smiling picture behind him. The two winked sleazily in perfect unison.

"I like cheese!" shouted Gavin, sucking a chunk of the matter it through his snorkel.

“…but let's not get side-tracked, I didn't end up getting breakfast from a banjee by posing nude for her!" joked Lophart moronically.
"He did with my auntie." Rum muttered to Hairy.

Question 1. Which of Dildoroy Lophart's nipples is larger?
Question 2. What colour underpants does Dildoroy Lophart wear?
The list continued for several pages, right up to:
Question 69. What position is Dildoroy Lophart most likely to make love in?

"Now, onto our lesson! You may meet your worst fears in this very room!" said Lophart.
"We already have." Hairy mumbled under his breath.

"Here we go again!" sang Hairy sardonically, a decrescendo chord playing comicallly in the background. The three protagonists stood placidly for a moment, looking about in anticipation. Hormoany coughed. Several seconds past. Hairy gave an audible sniff.
"Yes… here we GO… again…" he called, slightly louder than his previous effort.
Rum looked at his watch. Hormoany coughed again. There was a minute sound of footsteps in the background, gradually growing louder. Hairy held his finger to his ear, as if receiving news from an earpiece. He nodded to Hormoany and Rum, who took up their initial positions.
"Here we go again!!!" said Hairy sardonically.

"Wait, he left with unlocking the deadbolt!" exclaimed Hormoany.
"Oh sheesh! Come back! Here we go again! HERE! WE! GO! AGAIN!!!" screamed Hairy. Rum placed his hand solemnly on Hairy's shoulder.
"It's over, son,” he whispered. “It's over." At this, the three teens dropped to their knees and gyrated emotionally to the heavens.
"NOOOOOO!!!"

--CHAPTER SEVEN--

Hairy spent the day avoiding Dildoroy Lophart as much as he could, especially  whenever he saw the man positioned at the urinal.

Hairy groggily awoke, glancing at the clock… Six am. On a Maturday morning. This must have been illegal.

Colon Creamy was following, his camcorder swinging from a nipple piercing.
"How does Spinach work?" he queried, trotting to keep up with Hairy. Luckily enough, there was a user-friendly Spinach pamphlet hovering just infront of Hairy by some odd reason.
"Here, read this." said Hairy, handing the guide to Colon. "How fortunate! I mean, who would drag the reader through half a page re-explaining how Spinach works just to make the book seem larger?"

Frig was dozing merrily, his face resting on Angelwiener's breasts.

"Why couldn't you have told this to us when we were awake?" grumbled Cutie Smell, removing the comatose Gorge from her lap.

Hairy enviously eyed the urodele toast with lemming jam that they were munching.

"As I was saying, Mr Malformed has kindly donated state-of-the-art squeegees to our team."

Colon Creamy ran down from the stands clutching his video camera.
"Ooh, what happened? Can you cure him?" he slobbered. Rum's flatulent worms continued spurting out through the hole in his robes.
"Can I get a shot of this?" Colon asked, bobbing up and down as he set up an aerial shot.
"What sort of sick person would want to see footage of a deluge of worms shooting from Rum's ass?" Hairy shouted.
"This is the Internet Age!" retorted Colon.

"…if a word o' Lophart’s is true, I'll eat me hat!" said Haggis. Hairy did not doubt this at all.

“Why’d he call her a Cudblood?” asked Hairy. Haggis grunted gruffly.
"Well, some sorcerers reckon tha’ just cuz rural Muffins in New Zealand mate wit’ ruminants, tha’ sorcerers wit’ Muffin relatives mus’ have sheep DNA. Rubbish o’ course! Just cuz Malformed's lot never came across one in compromisin’ position…"

"I told Lophart yeh wouldn't need tha’ sorta publicity the begin wit'. Yer already more famous than him an' Belinda Cunnilinda put together."
"Who?" queried Rum. A stray worm shot out of the open window. Haggis faltered.
"Belinda Cunnilinda… yeh know? Wha’, don’ yez read Playwizard? …never mind.”

"A great fan of mine, judged my nude posing session... Fame is a freaking fickle friend from Finland... I stink therefore I ham…" Hairy ignored Lophart;s ramblings, scribbling a signature on an IUD for Ms Ginger.

--CHAPTER EIGHT--

"You cleaned out urinals… in a girls' toilet?" Hairy asked. Rum blinked.
"Yeah! That’s where they engrave the names of those who've won Special Crevices to the Institute." Hairy regurgitated into a gumboot.The combination of 'crevice' in relation to a urinal in a girls' toilet was best avoided.

"Well, your detention may seem bad, but do I have a story to tell you!" said Hairy.
Rum leapt up excitedly and seated himself at Hairy's feet.
"Is it Little Red Riding Hood? I like that story!"

The annual cold season had set over Dogfarts Institute of Wizardry and Weird Plots. Hairy continued wondering why the staff didn't use sorcery to keep the place warm, or at least cover up the gaping hole on the west-side wall of the castle, which exposed all of the classrooms to the elements.

The torrents of water had caused Haggis' grapefruits to grow very large indeed, as huge as... very huge grapefruits.

"Hello, Hairy, hello..." Merely Hoodless Dick replied absentmindedly. The spectre wore a splendid ghostly outfit, much like that which William Shakespeare would have worn, if he was alive now, and now was four hundred years ago.

"Dear Merely Hoodless Dick, We can only accept bluntmen whose 'hoods' have come off completely from their appendage. You will appreciate that it would otherwise be impossible for members to join in Jewish traditions and phallus collagen races. It is with great regret that I inform you that your penis does not fulfil our requirements."
Hairy’s eyes bulged and he took a large step back away from the Elizabethan spectre.
"You would expect," boomed Merely Hoodless Dick suddenly. “…that attempting to have your foreskin removed by a scalpel, a rusted hatchet and a guillotine would render it well and truly off, wouldn't you?" he bellowed to no-one in particular.

"You'd better get out of here, Hairy. Mr Belch isn't in such a good mood. The third years
accidentally splattered the dungeon ceiling with frog nipples and he's also pre-menstrual."

"Name: Hairy Potted. Crime:-" began Belch. Hairy intervened.
"It was only custard, cake and jelly" he appealed. Carefaker Belch scowled.
"Don't trifle with me boy! You’re in for more than a trifle punishment!”

Merely Hoodless Dick excitedly, glided through a wall, scaring the bajeezuz out of Hairy. Hairy quickly replaced his bajeezuz.

He watched Hairy on tenterhooks, later removing them from his shoulder blades.

"Well Hairy, I guess I'll make like a ghost and... get the fudge out of here!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day of their death?" Rum spat, then cast a look at his calendar. "Whoopee! Only eight weeks until Easter!" he shouted excitedly. Hairy sighed heavily, having seen that sad joke coming from the editorial room. The narrator narrated another sigh and continued narrating the narrow narrative.

"I hope Groaning Girdle isn’t here… she’s haunts the girl's communal bathroom. Always leaves the showers turned on..." Rum and Hairy were off in a world of their own, envisioning pleasant scenarios that could occur in such communal girls' showers.

"You're making fun of my dental deformity" the ghost whined nasally. "Do you know what people called me when I was alive? Metal-mouth! Train-tracks! Orthopaedically-dependant-loser!" wailed Groaning Girdle. Peeves pelted her with a stale avocado.
"You forgot 'bucktoothed-pimply-fest-who-has-grotesque-metallic-oral-attachments’”

The leader of the ghostly troop stopped abruptly in front of the three Graafiandors, his foreskin flopping onto the floor with a splat. He saw the three students and feigned shock.
"Live ‘uns!" he cried, opening his mouth in surprise to reveal his foreskin tied arounhd his uvula. The audience of dead souls guffawed wildly.
“What’s that strange sound?” asked Hairy.
“I believe it’s know as ‘laughter’.” replied Hormoany.

"For once, I agree with Rum. Let's make like a trio of disgusted living souls and… get the fudge out of here!"

The red smudges spelt out jaggedly-written words with artistic drips, to make them seem foreboding and eeevil. Hormoany, Rum and Hairy slowly began to read the eeevil message.
THE CHANGER OF SEQUINS IS BACK, BACK AGAIN.

--CHAPTER NINE--

"You killed Mrs Notorious! When I get my hands on you, I'll take your temperature rectally with a pitchfork! " screeched Mr Belch.

After clearing a stack of Playwizard magazines from Lophart's table, Dumbodork lay the stiff Mrs Notorious on top of the desk and started prodding her. Tutting in a belittling tone, he strapped on a surgical mask and apron and snapped two spandex gloves over each hand.
"Scalpel!" he ordered. Madam Pomfret, dressed in full medical outfit, handed over the required utensil. Dumbodork began slicing away the cougar's chest cavity.
"Crowbar!" yelled the herdmuster, proceeding to pry open the ribcage. A line of blood spattered evenly across each of the onlookers' faces.
"Pneumatic drill! And I’ll need seven hundred ccs of benzocaine! Stat!" shouted Dumbodork melodramatically. Profaner MuckG