A/N: Hi. Welcome to the final chapter of this fic. About time, eh?

Disclaimer: I don't own SHIZZLE.

Chapter 16: Pies and Goodbyes

"Now, Ryuk," said Dumbledore, "we'll have to do something about those Shinibasilisk eggs. And yes, I took the liberty of mashing your kinds' names together, because that's what shippers DO." He screamed the last word, as though channelling a certain mad man from another fandom. Then again, Dumbledore was already mad on his own merits.

Ryuk wrinkled his nose. "I'm too young to be a father," he tried.

"You're a Shinigami," Snape snarled. "You don't age at all."

"Can I just bake them into pies and feed them to my friends and forget this whole thing ever happened?" Ryuk tried again.

"WHAT? What the HELL is wrong with you?" Matsuda proceeded to throw up violently all over Dumbledore's office floor. Aizawa patted Matsuda's back in a soothing manner.

"I take it you haven't seen Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street," said Aizawa. "You know, that movie with Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Alan Rickman."

Tears were streaming down poor Matsuda's face. "The one directed by Tim Burton?"

"Did you really have to ask?"

Matsuda clutched his stomach. "Yeah, I did see it. Oh no, why did you have to bring that up, now I'm going to – BLEARRRGHHH."

At that moment, Professor McGonagall came rushing into the office.

"Albus, Severus, Peeves is in the Slytherin dungeons wreaking havoc," McGonagall informed them, barely giving the two Muggles and the Shinigami a second glance. Evidently, she was used to seeing strange things in Dumbledore's office, such as the Headmaster practicing hot yoga in blue booty shorts (how else does he keep fit?). "The common room is an utter mess, from what I'm hearing."

"Is that so? Well, we have Dumbledore to blame. He gave Peeves permission," Snape hissed, glowering at the Headmaster.

"How many of Filch's turds does Peeves have, anyway? Does he collect them in his spare time or something?" Dumbledore asked, impressed.

"Turds?" McGonagall's brow knitted. "No, he's egging the place."

Everyone except McGonagall gasped.

"What?" McGonagall asked, perplexed.

"What kind of eggs?" Ryuk demanded, his voice trembling with either hope or fear. Snape would've wagered it was the former.

"Giant purple ones that smell like vegetables, apparently."

"YES!" Ryuk crowed. "Who's your daddy? NOT ME."

"How morbid," Aizawa murmured, shaking his magnificent half-afro (indeed, it was starting to grow back from his impromptu haircut somewhere during the first few chapters).

"Okay..." said McGonagall. "There's still the issue of the mess and stench."

"Filch can deal with it," Dumbledore said easily. "With manual labour, it'll take three hours, tops."

"Why should Filch have to clean it up when Severus can do it magically and painlessly in three seconds?" McGonagall pointed out.

Dumbledore looked bemused. "I don't know, good point," he admitted. "Why does Argus do the cleaning, anyway? What a waste of time and Galleons. I should've thought that one through."

Snape cupped a hand to his ear, unable to rein in his sarcastic nature. "Was that the sound of logic, Albus?"

"I love magic! Can we come watch?" Matsuda asked eagerly.

"No," Snape barked. "I'm sick of your face. You've attacked me, stolen my wand, and in the process, almost started a war between the Wizarding World and Kira! I almost died because of you! None of this would've happened if you hadn't –"

Snape broke off in sudden realization. No, it wasn't true. It wasn't entirely Matsuda's fault. Snape wouldn't have had to drag Light, Misa, Aizawa, and Matsuda to Hogwarts if it hadn't been for Matsuda and Aizawa seeing Arthur Weasley's flying Ford Anglia, and that wouldn't have happened if...

"POTTER!"

So what if the flying car incident technically happened before the term started? So what if several floors below, a handful of Gryffindor students gave a loud exclamation as every single ruby flew up from the bottom of their House hourglass, leaving the lower half completely empty? Knowing Dumbledore, he'd just conveniently add the points back at the last minute ensure Gryffindor's year-end victory. That jerk.

"I'll be on my way now," Snape said stiffly, moving to follow McGonagall out the door.

"When can we see you again?" Matsuda called out, his voice dripping with puppy-dog hope and innocence.

"Never, if I can help it."

"Aw, so mean..."

Dumbledore handed over the Death Note and skull pen to Ryuk, who hugged the items gratefully. "I've put a Freezing Charm on the notebook, which will lift as soon as you return to the Shinigami Realm and outside the boundaries of wizarding jurisdiction. From there, you can keep an eye on the Kira trials, which no doubt would be entertaining to you. If Light Yagami receives the death penalty, you can take it upon yourself to execute him, as you wanted."

"Fair enough," Ryuk jeered, waving everyone good-bye and disappearing from the visible spectrum.

Dumbledore presented his arms to the two Muggles. "Hang on tight. We'll get you both back to Los Angeles in no time."

"So long," cried Matsuda, while Aizawa gave Snape an awkward smile.

"Good riddance," Snape bit out, and Dumbledore Apparated away with his uber special Headmaster privileges begotten by the sixth film.

When Snape entered the Slytherin common room, he could barely believe his eyes. Black slime covered the walls as though the Giant Squid had sneezed everywhere and performed a satanic ritual with its rivers of snot.

"Scourgify."

The slime and egg shell bits vanished. But before Snape could leave to call the Slytherin students back to their dormitory, something caught his eye.

A solitary purple egg.

"This is just great," Snape sighed. He drew his wand once more and quashed his moral qualms, as many wizards and witches do.

"Evanesco," Snape murmured, and the egg Vanished, which begs the question as to why wizards bother Avada Kedavra-ing each other instead of immediately Vanishing them into "non-being" – clearly, dead bodies are very inconvenient, leaving evidence behind and coming back to life and all that. Seriously. Why? We will never know.

Snape's stomach gave a loud rumble. His mouth twitched. He had not eaten since this whole ordeal began. If he made his way to the Great Hall now, he would still be in time for pudding.

Needless to say, he was in the mood for some pie.

Fin.

A/N: Thanks for reading, and to every single person who has reviewed over the last year and a half. I'm glad people seemed to have enjoyed this story, if you can even call crack as such. Well, on to the next adventure!

Ciao, everyone :D