Harry Potter and The True Story

Once upon a time, there was a boy. That nibba name was Harry, and he lived in a lovely house with his parents, James and Lily. They were hidden from world, because Albus Doubledoor said that they should be. Lord Voldemort wasn't happy about their hiding, so he decided to kill them. He asked a rat about their whereabouts and now he knew that they were living in Godric's Hello. After drinking a few bottles of pepsi, Tom Middle decided he was finally ready for a great duel with Harry's parents, who were pretty damn good at wand waving and saying weird words. The Dark Lord drove his ferrari to the Godric's Hello and looked for a place to park his cool car. After a few minutes, he parked at a disabled parking spot, cause he was fairly sure that he was actually quite retarded. He got out of his car and, smoking a big cigarette, went to the house of Potters. He politely knocked on the door and rang a doorbell and waited for someone to open the door. A few moments later, the door were opened by a suspicious looking James Potter, and Lord Voldemort quickly waved his magic stick and said 'Avada Kedavra'. James died on the spot, and Tom went inside the nice, cosy house. Lily Potter came to see him from upstairs, so he waved his stick again and said 'Avada Kedavra'. Lily didn't even bother waving her stick, as she knew it was too late to say any words, because she wasn't a rapper and couldn't really talk that fast. The Dark Lord went upstairs, where he thought Harry would be. He found the boy, sleeping in his small bed, drool coming out of his little, cute mouth. Voldemort didn't care much about the cute stuff, so he merely waved his magical stick at the boy and said the magic words 'Avada Kedavra'. Harry Potter died while sleeping, cause he was a small boy and couldn't possibly stop a killing curse that was unstoppable. Voldemort went downstairs to the living room and watched some Doctor Who on the TV, before leaving in his ferrari to eat some pizza.