Second of all, writing "Harm" gets pretty grim, writing "Ember and Serpent" requires craft and care, the other short stories in my head can't be written yet because J. K. Rowling isn't bringing out books fast enough and I'm a canon slut. Sometimes, a girl needs a break.
Third of all, "break" refers to my brain. Crack and splinter, the words fall out. Ouchie, ouchie, but unless I pick the words up and put them on the page, the 'i's won't stop looking at me.
That was a really stupid thing to write. Really stupid. So you see where my mind is at. I don't think it'll leave that place until I write this. (Note: If you're one of the nice people hoping I'll finish "Ember and Serpent" before I leave for Boot Camp, don't worry! I'm writing at a furious pace, and what you're reading now is reserved for the times that one more sentence about Lolly the House-Elf will make me suicidal.)
Maybe you'll enjoy this. God knows it makes me laugh like an idiot.
But then again, I am an idiot.
I wish I had some semblace of self control.
Well, here you go. Try not to vomit. It'll get in the way of laughing.
WARNING: Sorry, but with "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" being what it is, there's going to be some slash content, inappropriate language, spankings, sexually confused humor, rampant accusations of homosexual indulgences, homosexual indulgences strongly implied, heterosexual relations wedged in the middle, fishnet tights, musical numbers, and Draco Malfoy in minimal clothing sashaying through most of it. If you can bear all that, there will also be bad puns, re-written songs, and new Harry Potter games for you and your friends to play. If you want something more, you're a selfish little prat and I hope you're plagued with visions of Tim Curry as Pennywise the Clown for all eternity.
Disclaimer: Fanfic. Me no Rowling. Me no O'Brian. Me sad. (Me sound like Cookie Monster. Where was that desk I was crying under?)
And yes, boys and girls: this work will require audience par-ti-ci-pation.
Why are you still reading this? The crap is down below. Go on, get moving. GO! Don't just stand there laughing at me. Shit on a shingle, where's that wand when I need it? Bollocks, I've no idea. Just go on. Shoo!
~sigh~ Oh fine, here's a map.
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Cheers.
Damn, I forgot something. This Fic is dedicated to by dear friend, Chas "Sirius Black isn't gay!" Shay, who has no idea how happy it makes me that what I just wrote rhymed. Chas is the monster who laughed when I began describing this idea to him, which is why I decided to go ahead and write it (translation: blame him!) He's also challenged me on several of my casting decisions, for which he will be punished later (the keyboard is mightier than the sword, dearie, and my sword already made a hole in your knee that time you were pretending to be Xena, remember?) So, thanks Chas. This should be fun, in a thumbs-in-the-eyeballs sort of way.
Here's the map again, in case you were looking for the story:
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Or, the Bleeding Stupid Thing Her2Eternity Decided to Write,
for No Other Discernable Reason than Her Own Sick Amusement,
which She Forces on the General Populace at Random
Chapter 1: Bored
or, 'Bored' like that Hysterical Episode of the Hideously Underrated "Young Ones," which Comedy Central Took of the Air, and when I am a
World Power I'll Kill Them for It.
It was an ordinary day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of those days that J. K. Rowling couldn't be bothered to write about, probably somewhere between Easter Holidays and Final Exams. Everyone at Hogwarts was bored. Dangerously bored. Bored enough that getting locked in a small room with nothing to do but read but bad Harry Potter FanFiction seemed appealing.
Unfortunately, no such amusement was forthcoming; something far more sinister was planned for the innocent Hogwarties. It was something that would change lives and threaten sexual identies, something more sinister than Voldemort, something more hairy than Hagrid, something more irritating than Pigwidgeon, something . . . completely . . . different.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were playing a boring game of Exploding Snap and Ron was decisively winning. Harry was becoming rather grouchy over this turn of events, and he banged his next card down with a bit more force than necessary. Instead of an Exploding Snap (TM), Ron and Harry disappeared in identical puffs of white smoke.
Hermione Granger was in the library (surprise, surprise), reading "Hogwarts: A History" for the thirteenth time. As she reached the final page, she paused for a moment to reflect on the fact that many Muggles seemed to find the number thirteen dangerous. I wonder why? she . . . uh . . . wondered, Maybe I can find something here at the library that will explain that particular Muggle superstition from a magical perspective. Wouldn't that be fascinating? No, dear Hermione, no. She too disappeared in a puff of white smoke.
Fleur Delacour was eating a plate of light French food at her school of Beauxbatons, which is French for "Handsome Stick," I think. It was odd that she considered her repast 'light' as it was coated with some unidentifiable French sauce, but we won't argue with her. She had just finished her last dainty bite when she disappeared in a puff of white smoke.
Sirius Black was wearing masculine boxer shorts, smoking a Marolboro Red, and drinking black coffee that was not from Starbucks because he wasn't gay (even though his best friend was named Remus, they were both bachelors, and not once had a girlfriend been mentioned in any of the Harry Potter books). Sirius yawned, stretched, and scratched himself inappropriately before disappearing in a puff of pink smoke. In the bedroom, his 'special friend' Lupin (snoring away on a suspiciously rumpled bed) also disappeared in a puff of pink smoke.
Severus Snape was lurking in the dungeons, not with any particular goal in mind, just generally lurking (a/n: because he was so gorgeous when he did it.) He thought that is he was very lucky, he might catch someone misbehaving, so he could take away some House Points and distribute some detentions. His lurking was (a/n: unfortunatly) interruputed when he disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
Neville Longbottom was . . . oh, you get the picture by now. Poof! White smoke!
Draco Malfoy . . . Poof! White smoke!
Albus Dumbledore . . . Poof! Blue smoke with little purple stars in it!
Viktor Krum . . . Poof! Noxious green smoke with a unibrow!
Ginny Weasly . . . Poof! Boring old white smoke again, because if Draco doesn't get something fancy, then neither does she!
Poof! Harry Potter looked around cautiously. Usually when he was suddenly apparated from one place to another, one of two things was going to happen:
a) He would be required to save the world from Voldemort, or
b) He was going to have to read horrendous stories about himself and his friends in brain-numbing adult situations fraught with horribly
bad grammar.
Neither option seemed remotely appealing. Beside him, Ron opened his eyes and groaned. "What's going on? Do I even want to know?"
Harry examined their new surroundings. They were in what appeared to be a movie theater, and a rather shabby one at that. They were sitting on black velvet seats that had seen several generations of brat children and their big-bottomed parents come and go with greasy popcorn, sticky gum, and spilly sodas. The red curtains at the front of the theater were moth-eaten, and they framed a rickety wooden stage that was in dire need of paint. The movie screen itself looked fine, and Harry suddenly wondered with horror if they would:
c) be forced to watch "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone" repeatedly and discuss all plot deviations in nauseating detail.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Hermione. Poof! She looked around wildly, her hands clutching the seat in front of her. "Where are we?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Don't know," Ron said cheerfully, "But anything's better than being stuck at Hogwarts when it's boring."
Hermione made a face. "Do you ever think? This must be powerful Dark Magic, because according to canon, you can't apparate and disapparate at Hogwarts." Her eyes took on a haunted look. "Unless, of course, this is one of those FanFiction things . . ."
Fleur Delacour appeared in the row before Ron. "What ees dis place?" she asked, looking around with alarm, "Why am I stuck again with ze 'ogwarts peoples? I was not eenformed of dis appearance."
Hermione groaned. "Anyone but her!"
Ron, however, was grinning like an idiot, with his eyes fixed on the lovely half-veela. "Heh . . . Heh . . . Hullo, Fleur."
Fleur's eyes passed right over him, fixing on Harry. "'arry Potter! 'ow lovely to meet you again. Whatever 'as 'appened, you weel save us, non?"
"Er, yes," Harry said, even though he wasn't really sure what was going on. He was saved from explaining this by the arrival of two more poofs.
Sirius looked terrified. "Not FanFiction! Please not FanFiction!"
"There's a screen," Lupin pointed out, "So maybe it won't be FanFiction."
"Hi Sirius, Hi Professor Lupin," Harry said, "I was thinking this might have something to do with the Harry Potter movie."
Sirius frowned. "Well, we weren't in it, and neither was was Fleur, so why are we here?"
"'arry will save us," Fleur said happily, and Ron and Hermione scowled.
Poof! And there was Severus Snape, looking very irritated indeed. "I don't have time for this foolishness!" he snapped, "I was busy lurking you know."
Everyone wondered who on earth he was talking to, but he caught sight of Sirius Black before anyone could ask. "Oh wonderful," he said, slumping down in his seat, "It's going to be like that, is it?"
In rapid sucession the rest of the victims appeared.
Poof! Neville Longbottom, who took one look at Snape, screamed, and disappeared from sight.
Poof! Draco Malfoy. Ron, Harry, and Hermione groaned. ("Looks like it's going to be one of those stories," Harry hissed to Ron.
"Yeah," Ron replied, "Now all we need is-")
Poof! Albus Dumbledore. ("Not who I was expecting," Ron said.)
Poof! Viktor Krum. "I want out! Now!" Ron yelled.
"Sit down, you stupid git!" snapped Hermione, and she gave Viktor a little wave, which turned Ron purple with rage.
"Hello, Herm-own-ninny," Viktor said, "I am glad to haff been meeting vith you again."
Poof! Ginny Weasley. "Forget it!" Ron yelled, "Get my sister out of here!"
"I'm sorry," said a pleasant voice from the stage, "But I can't do that, Ron."
Everyone turned to face their tormenter. She had bushy hair (rather like Hermione's, only blonder) and a hooked nose like Snape. Her eyes were blue and she looked very pleased about something. "Ginny has to stay, just like the rest of you do. You see, I'm the author of this story, and you're all pretty much stuck here until I let you leave."
To everyone's surprise, Severus Snape began to laugh. He left his seat and and went to sit beside the girl on stage. "This," he said maliciously, "is going to be my favorite FanFic ever."
The girl looked at him intently. "How do you figure?"
"You brought me here to watch you make fools of these miserable idiots, didn't you?"
The girl shook her head and patted Snape's hand comfortingly. "I'm afraid not, Severus."
Snape looked apprehensive. "But I'm your favorite character."
"It can't be helped. You belong in this play."
Snape took his hand away from hers and crossed his arms. "You have an action figure of me. You carry it in your purse and take it to bed with you."
("I knew it was going to be one of those stories," Ron groaned.)
("Who ees ze freak Muggle?" Fleur asked.)
(Sirius was slumped low in his seat. "It's her," he whispered frantically to Lupin, "She's the author who's convinced I'm gay!")
("But you are gay," Remus whispered back, "It's obvious.")
("Shut up.")
"I'm sorry Severus," the author said, "But I can't take you out of the play. It would upset the entire dichotomy of the piece."
"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape said tersely.
"You can't take points from my favorite House," she said crossly, "I don't even go to Hogwarts."
"What do you mean, 'your favorite House'?" Ron demanded, "Everyone wants to be in Gryffindor!"
"Shut up!" yelled the girl and Snape.
"I'm not going to be in any play," Snape said threateningly.
"But it's a musical," the girl protested, "Everyone loves a musical."
"I love musicals," Dumbledore said helpfully. He was the least distressed of the group.
"I don't like you any more," Snape said to the girl, and returned to the audience. For a moment she looked irritated, but as she surveyed her victims, she seemed to cheer up.
"Moving along," she said, "My name is Patricia, and I'm going to be your director."
"Dictator," Sirius groaned.
"Torturer," Lupin said.
"Mistress," Snape added, and everyone stared. He glared at the girl on stage. "That wasn't funny."
"No, but it was very sweet," she said.
("Nuts," Harry whispered, "Completely around the bend!")
There was a moment of silence, and Patricia seemed to be waiting for something. "Well," she said at last, "Aren't you going to ask me what the play is?"
"NO!" shouted Ron, Harry, Remus and Lupin.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "If we cooperate," she said, "We can get this over with sooner. Or maybe even bargain with her."
Draco beat her to the kiss up. "What play are we doing?" he asked. His voice had a suspiciously curious note in it.
Patricia beamed. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show!" she said excitedly. No one moved. No one said a word. "Won't it be fun?"
"Kill me now," Ron groaned (George and Fred had gone through a very ugly Rocky Horror phase).
"Me first," Harry said.
"What ees dis "Rocky 'orror Peecture Show"?" asked Fleur.
Sirius chose to reply. "It was this really idiotic play that came out about 25 years ago, celebrating Hollywood B-movies."
"What ees ze B-movie?" Fleur asked.
"Crap," Lupin replied, "Usually with monsters." He seemed particularly sulky.
"The play," Sirius continued, "Did well enough to become a movie that did all right here and utterly flopped in America, until they sent it to Los Angeles, the most ridiculous place that's ever existed."
"'ollywood?"
"They loved it," Sirius sighed, "They saw it multiple times, then they began screaming things at the screen, then they began bringing props and dressing up. Now it's cult; sort of a rite of passage for American teens."
Hermione looked at Sirius with admiration. "You must have done well in Muggle Studies."
Lupin's mouth twitched. "He was crap at Muggle Studies."
"Then how did you-" Hermione began, but Snape cut her off.
"He got caught in a celluloid jam," Snape spat.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Black was a big fan," Snape explained sweetly.
"But I don't quote at random," Sirius pointed out.
Snape flushed angrily. "That wasn't random, you idiot; it pertained flawlessly to the topic of discussion."
"I don't remember you being part of the discussion," Lupin growled.
"When it comes to Black's sexual orientation, I'm always part of the conversation," Snape said nastily.
Harry jumped to his feet. "Cut it out, Snape! My godfather is not gay!"
Draco dove into the fight. "That's because you're in the closet with him, Potter!"
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape said triumphantly.
"Sit down!" Patricia roared, "Everyone sit, right now, or I'm making you wear your costumes!"
"You've cast us already?" Harry asked.
"I didn't even get to try out," Sirius whined.
"Auditions are pointless," Patricia said, "Because none of you want to do this anyway. You'd all act like idiots, hoping not to get cast at all."
("She's good," Ron muttered to Harry.)
"So I chose roles for you," Patricia continued, "I'm the one in charge here; get used to it."
"We'll see how long that lasts," Snape said.
Patricia ignored him. "Here are the ground rules: Cooperate and we'll like each other more. No throwing punches, kicking, biting, or personal comments. It gets old. No taking House Points," she glared at Snape, "Because you're not at Hogwarts, and what happens here has no bearing on what happens there. You have a green room full of food; Dobby is on call around the clock. You also have bedrooms - seperate ones," she added, seeing Harry's look. "Where you choose to sleep is none of my business."
"I'm not gay!" Sirius yelled. Everyone looked at him strangely.
"No one said you were," Draco pointed out, "That was the sound of a guilty conscience-"
"Malfoy," Potter said, "I'm warning you . . ."
"No personal remarks," Patricia reminded them. "Now, I'm off to bed; the rest of you, make yourselves comfortable."
"I'll go with you if we can make a deal," Snape said silkily.
Patricia rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot; this is business, not pleasure." She disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
"We'd better get some sleep," Dumbledore said, "Putting on a musical is hard work." Everyone groaned.
"You're Albus Dumbledore," Hermione said, "Can't you get us out of this mess?"
"Of course I could," said Dumbledore, "But I think this "Rocky Horror" could be a highly amusing enterprise."
"He is mad, isn't he?" Ron said to Harry.
Harry shrugged. "At least it's not FanFiction. Help me get Neville off the floor."