Half-Blood, Half-Witted.
3/20/2005
Having been marooned at work all month, I figured I'd go ahead and amuse myself by polishing off the last installment of the sixth Harry Potter novel. As you may recall, it was announced last December that Rowling's next book would be released sometime in July, sparking yet another wave of eager anticipation for Harry Potter fans across the globe. Me, I got tired of that noise when the _last_ book was released, so I decided to satisfy everyone by writing the sixth book right _now_, well in advance of that slowpoke J.K. Rowling. Granted, I've never touched a Potter book in my life, and what little I know of the characters is derived from half-forgotten conversations and TV commercials, but with my flawless computerized mind, I figure I can guess exactly what Rowling planned on writing well before her version is published. Best of all, you won't have to worry about any of those darn pregnancies slowing me down. That's right, Harryheads, my male reproductive organs are _your_ key to instant Potter material, piping hot and presented on demand.

Previously: Acting on a tip from the boy's room stall, Hermoine Granger searched for the elusive being known only as the Half-Blood Prince, reputed to sell completed homework at reasonable prices. Accompanied by Harry "Thunderface" Potter and Ron "Opie" Weasly, Hermoine first encountered the enigmatic time traveller/warrior Trunks, whom they severely beat and murdered. Hoping to dispose of the evidence, the trio dragged Trunks' body to the beach, where a furious Sub-Mariner expressly denied them permission to pollute his domain with corpses. When Ron inadvertantly offended the prideful Prince of the Seas, Namor hurled him into the air, and took to the skies to do battle with him. Her efforts frustrated, Hermoine now returns home with Harry to decide her next move, little realizing that their handiwork has been discovered...


Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince(s)




PRINCE ADAM: By the POWER OF GREYSKULL!

[Lightning flashes from the skies and strikes the tip of Adam's sword. Inspiring theme music plays in the background as Adam is enveloped in the white hot energy, only to be transformed into... well, basically himself, only more tan and less clothed.]

HE-MAN: I HAVE THE POWERRRRRR!

[He points the sword, still crackling with mystic energy, at Cringer. Like a wuss, Cringer shies away from the sword, but soon he too is drawn up into its influence, and is transformed into... well, he's still a green tiger, but now he's bigger and he's not such a damn weiner.]

BATTLE CAT: Roar!

HE-MAN: Well said, Battle Cat. Now, from the look of things, this dead body seems to have washed up onto shore. No doubt this was some poor raver who was too doped up on Ecstasy to realize he was being mugged. But, as a champion of justice, I have no choice but to find those responsible for killing this boy, no matter how stupid his hair looked in life.

TRUNKS: (weakly) Enhh... no... still barely clinging... to life...

BATTLE CAT: Hold on a minute He-Man! My hypersensitive sense of smell is picking up something. It may give us a clue as to who the killer really is!

[Battle Cat starts sniffing at Trunks' stirring body, then starts tasting him. Then, while He-Man is looking the other way, he begins eating him.]

HE-MAN: Now, let's see here. It can't be OJ... and I'm a hundred percent sure that Santa Claus doesn't kill people, so that rules him out... Hmm... that still leaves Mister Belvedere, though. Say, Battle Cat, how are things going on your end--By the Goddess!

[He-Man returns his attention to the corpse only to find it stripped of all flesh. Battle Cat licks his paws innocently.]

BATTLE CAT: Rrrr! Somehow he just turned into a skeleton, He-Man! [coughs up big lavendar hairball] I tried to stop it, but... there was radiation too. Yeah, and it made it harder to save the evidence. [coughs up pieces of leather jacket]

HE-MAN: Easy old friend, there was nothing you could have done for him. It's all too clear now, that this was no ordinary murder. No, this was he work of some sinister magic! Well, our killer might be able to hide from mortal eyes, but he can't escape my enchanted sword!

[He-Man draws his silver blade, and holds the hilt up to his face.]

HE-MAN: Sword of Omens! Give me sight beyond sight!

BATTLE CAT: Rrrrrr! Dammit, He-Man, your sword can't do that. You saw that on Thundercats.

HE-MAN: Oh, right, I'm sorry. I forgot you were the expert here. Yes, sometimes I forget that I'm just the destined champion of Eternia, as forseen by the Ancient Elders of Wisdom, who doesn't even know how his own f***ing sword works.

BATTLE CAT: Hey, look, all I'm saying is...

HE-MAN: No, no, you're absolutely right. This is a stupid plan, and I never should have tried this without first consulting with my sword expert. You know, the stupid green corpse-eating tiger who doesn't have opposable thumbs?

BATTLE CAT: Now why do you always have to go there?

HE-MAN: Well gee whiz, Hattori Hanzo, master swordsmith and expert on all S-words that rhyme with "swords". How would I know? Maybe you should go watch Thundercats and see if they'll tell you since they know so damn much about everything. Now shut up. I'm seeing beyond sight here.

[He-Man stares out into the distance with the hilt of his sword over his face, for several minutes. Finally he puts it away.]

BATTLE CAT: So how'd it go?

HE-MAN: Just shut the hell up. Anyway, this is clearly the work of my arch-nemesis, Skeletor. So, yeah, let's go find him and beat him up. Onward, Battle Cat!

BATTLE CAT: You know, on Thundercats, the cats ride around on people...

HE-MAN: Forget it, Battle Cat. I fell for that the last four times, and it's not working on me again. Now come on, my He-Sense is telling me that Skeletor is off this way! There's not a second to lose!

[Meanwhile, back at Hermoine's dorm room, our intrepid heroes have returned from their fruitless search for the legendary Half-Blood Prince, who sells completed term papers at reasonable prices.]

HERMOINE: What a night... Next time, I'll just work on the bloody assignment. Cheating is too much of a hassle.

HARRY: I suppose we've all learned a valuable lesson from all of this. You've learned the value of honest work, the Half-Blood Prince has learned that he should sell term papers on the internet instead of a secret location in the woods, and I've learned that the girls' dorms aren't really better than the boys' dorms like everyone says. They just seem nicer because they've got a fresh coat of paint on the walls, but otherwise they're the same.

HERMOINE: On the bright side, we did kill someone, and Ron should be out of my hair for at least a few weeks. Really, now that he's not around to distract me, tackling that blasted English Lit paper doesn't seem like such the insurmountable task.

HARRY: (writing furiously at Hermoine's desk) I'd imagine not, Hermoine, seeing as you're forcing me to write it at gunpoint and all.

HERMOINE: Desperate times and all that rot. Anyway, you've got it easy. Holding a gun on someone, now that's an enormous amount of pressure on a girl my age. It's too bad you're an orphan, or I could at least demand a ransom for my trouble.

HARRY: You know, Hermoine, sometimes I do wonder why I associate with a bad apple like you.

HERMOINE: I'm the only girl in this entire school who'll talk to you.

HARRY: Ah, yes. Quite.

HERMOINE: Now less shite and more write. Hmmm... maybe I could send a photo of you to k.d. lang's mum. She might be rich enough and gullible enough to make it worth my while.

[Suddenly, the entire west wall of the dorm crashes and breaks apart, as a mighty figure bursts into the room.]

HERMOINE: What the devil's deuce?

HE-MAN: Your nefarious scheme ends here, Skeletor! Heeeeeeeee-Man!

BATTLE CAT: You ripped that off of Birdman, ass.

HE-MAN: Pay no mind to my faithful feline steed, villains! The time has come for justice, and that justice shall be served-up hencewith... He-Man Style.

HARRY: Oh, dandy, the law's finally caught up to us.

HE-MAN: That's right, k.d. lang. All of your power will be powerless against the power of The Most Powerful Man in the Universe.

[Twisting his muscular torso to the right, He-Man suddenly snaps back into his original position, his mighty fist swinging back and forth with awesome fury!]

HARRY: Oh, for the love of...

HERMOINE: OK, wait just a damn minute. We're not Skeletor.

HE-MAN: You're not? (looks at his sword for a moment) Boy, I'm glad you said something. I could have killed you with this thing. And would my face be red then.

HARRY: I don't even look that much like k.d. lang. You people just call me that because you think it's funny. But it's not.

HERMOINE: Look, if you're trying to find Skeletor, he's in the faculty quarters, between the Quidditch field and the garage where they park that triple-decker bus. I was planning to head over there myself later, to slip my term paper under the door to his office.

HARRY: Ooh, that works out smashingly. If you'll just wait a moment, I can put the finishing touches on this, and you can take it with you and save us a trip!

HE-MAN: I'm afraid that would be much too dangerous, Ms. lang. I must face the evil of Skeletor alone, and free of any distractions. But first, Battle Cat, we must ride to the mountain of the damned, where we can use my magic sword to raise an army of cursed souls to ride alongside us in battle, thus fufilling in death the oath to their king which they betrayed in life!

BATTLE CAT: You muscleheaded hack, that was Return of the King!

HE-MAN: No time to discuss the Oscars now, old friend. We ride! For honor, for justice, for Asgarrrrrd!

[Battle Cat dashes off, carrying He-Man on his back. Hermoine inspects the giant hole in her wall, making sure to keep the gun trained on Harry.]

HARRY: Well, that... sort of works out, doesn't it? Conan or whoever he was will kill your English Lit Prof, and now you won't have to turn in this thrice-damned paper you've worried about for so long.

HERMOINE: Well... you may as well finish it up. I'd lay good odds he gets lost or falls in a well or something before he gets where he's going. Still, it does tie things up rather nicely.

HARRY: Still, even though we didn't need his help after all, I wonder who the Half-Blood Prince really was...

[Suddenly, the room is illuminated by a preternatural glow, and a vaguely human form appears before Harry and Hermoine, who recognize their visitor immediately.]

HERMOINE & HARRY: The Hostess Fruit Pie Wizard!?

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: And a delightful day to you both, young mages! (he unfurls his black cape and doffs his top hat with his magic wand.) I trust that both of you are ready for my trigonometry exam next Thursday? Remember, it's worth twenty percent of your grade.

HARRY: Oh, bother, I forgot all about that.

HERMOINE: Dammit, it's always something else around here. Hold on a minute, you didn't come all this way just to remind us about a test, Professor.

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: Indeed, my dear, for the fated day has come for Mister Potter to learn the truth about his parents! You see, Harry, although you believed your parents to be dead, they are in fact very much alive! Even though I cannot recall the name of the bad guy from the first book, or how he claimed to have killed them, my awesome and fruit-filled mystic senses know it to be true!

HERMOINE: Hey, sweet, now I can get that ransom. Hang on, let me jot down their address so I'll know where to send the locks of hair and severed ears...

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: Why, Miss Granger, whyever should you want to threaten this boy's life, when you can enjoy these delicious Hostess Fruit Pies^TM ? (the Wizard waves his wand, producing a big platter floating in midair, loaded with a pile of individually wrapped pastries.)

HERMOINE: Well... I am getting kind of hungry. I suppose I could put this gun down long enough for free snacks.

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: Certainly you can! Please, by all means, partake of both great flavors: Apple and Cherry!

HARRY: Pardon me, sir, but aren't there other flavors, as well? Peach, Blueberry, Strawberry... I think I even spied a Lemon one at a petrol station a few years back.

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: (watching Hermoine eat and laughing heartily) Oh, young Mister Potter! You have ever so much to learn! Those are the crap flavors, and they don't count. Now, whilst our gun-toting friend is distracted, allow me to introduce you to your true father. (waves his wand yet again) Behold!

[Once more the room is lit up with a strange glow, and another being materializes out of thin air, taking the shape of...]

KING DING DONG: My word, you've grown so much since I saw you last, my son.

HARRY: The hell? My father is a giant piece of cake?

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: With cream filling!

HARRY: I think I liked it better when I thought he was dead. All right, I can go along with a gag. So who's my real mother?

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: k.d. lang, of course!

HARRY: Damn it.

KING DING DONG: Ah, you look just like your mother, my boy. She would have been so proud to see you studying here at Hogwarts. If only she hadn't gotten hit on the head with that flower pot, giving her amnesia and leading her to create a new identity as a lesbian folk singer. But we must look forward to the future! You see, my son, as you may have realized, I am the King of the land of Chocolate, and though Hostess Snack Cakes are blessed with long shelf lives, the day shall come when I become too stale to serve my people as ruler.

HERMOINE: You know, I would have something smart-alecky to say right about here, but these pies are just too damn good...

KING DING DONG: That was why we sent you to live with your adopted parents, my son. In time, you would be enrolled in this school of wizardry, under Professor Fruit Pie's watchful eye, where you could become a powerful scorceror, who could lead my beloved kingdom with a strong hand. Join me, son. It is your destiny.

HARRY: All right, wait. Let me get this straight. I'm the son of a ding dong and k.d. lang? So then that means I was the Half-Blood Prince all along?!

HERMOINE: Well, you did do my homework assignment for me.

HARRY: Fine, fine, but that doesn't even make any sense. Besides, I read on Amazon.com that J.K. Rowling confirmed that I wasn't the Half-Blood Prince, so this is impossible!

KING DING DONG: Oh, sure, let's turn to the internet for the final say in the matter. The same storehouse of knowledge that says Marilyn Manson is the kid from the Wonder Years, Bush rigged the vote in Ohio, and ding dongs can't wear mustaches or serve as heads of state. Listen, it's simple. Are you gonna believe me, the world leader made of sugar and rocket fuel, or the dead bad guy who tried to trap you in a magic mirror five years ago?

HARRY: Can I have an allowance?

KING DING DONG: Five bucks a week, plus all the cake you can eat.

HARRY: Not bad... Oh! Can I make Hermoine wear a gold bikini and look on in horror while I force my enemies to fight monsters to the death?

KING DING DONG: Errr... yeah, but let's wait a few years so it's nice and legal. Last thing I want is Interpol breathing down my neck again.

HARRY: Sold! (looks over to Hermoine) And I'll be seeing you later, Hermoine.

HERMOINE: Yeah, sod off, you perv.

FRUIT PIE WIZARD: Then it's settled! To the Land of Chocolate, Your Majesties! (waves wand) Away!

[The three of them disappear, leaving Hermoine alone with the remaining fruit pies, and her completed assignment.]

HERMOINE: Ohhhkayyyy... well, at least my day hasn't gone any worse than Ron's...

[Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts schoolyard...]

RON: Boy, it sure was nice of Namor to drop me off here after we reconciled our differences. It's too bad he was in such a hurry to leave, or I could have asked him to get my knickers down from the school flagpole. Those mean old Slytherins... One of these days I should really give those bad apples a piece of my mind-- eh?

[Rushing towards him is He-Man, atop his faithful Battle Cat, his sword raised for action.]

HE-MAN: Skeletor! Disguising yourself as Danny Bonnaduce won't save you from justice this time!

RON: Holy crap!

HE-MAN: There can be only ONE!

BATTLE CAT: You idiot...

[THE END]


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