Calypse: increasingly not funny, maybe I just have a dry wit. Or maybe there's just too much to make fun of in DMHG fics. Thanks everyone that reviewed, I didn't know everyone would like it so much. Sorry for making you wait but if you're here for insanity rather than desperate attempts at humor, abandon fic. ;P
"It's not really fair!"
"I mean fine, if you really want to do a twincest fic, you have the law of free speech that makes people ignore the fact that we're actually English, on your side but really!"
"Yeah, they get us all muddled up and stuff. They can't tell who's who half the time. I mean really, it's not that hard to tell us apart. I'm obviously the more adorable one."
There was a pregnant pause at the end of this statement, or you could translate that as, the authoress took a brief break regarding the usage of a water fountain.
"Don't push it."
"Indeed, you usually do all the pushing."
"Besides, we're identical."
"Which is probably why they think we are carbon copies of each other. It really gives a new meaning to the phrase 'screw yourself'."
"A modern day narcists aren't we?"
"Send in the clones."
"I mean we seem to screw each other because we're brothers! We're supposed to be prankers extraordinair, not some bloody angsty teens writing up a bloody angsty story about how we're sharing this obviously cliché love of being brothers. Twincest dammit!"
"Really! You'd think at least I'd be able to crack a joke or two, me being the obviously more talented older twin and all."
"Fr... wait, why do you think you're older?"
"'f' comes before 'g' dear twin."
"That's the most idiotic... whatever... Fred..."
"And then the story lines usually turn into a headlong dive smut and snogging, not that I mind the latter, do you George? Well..."
There was a deep sigh of utmost regret.
"What happened to the good old days when a man could screw his brother and get away with it?"
"Fred, for the love of god that has never happened in history of wizard and muggle history..." ignoring the how-do-you-know-that look, "and while I don't mind you rant, could you speed up a bit?" the last part of came out in a growl as a frustrated redhead wiggled his bottom.
"Uhh right mate," Fred shifted a little, getting a better leverage over his twin.
"Really, Twincest, it's overrated."
The sky was a peaceful blue until an ungrateful redhead decided to ruin the day for everyone by marring it gray. But alas, for a story, one must make sacrifices as they go along. Certain sacrifices do include freezing one's ass off on top of a roof. Anyways, back to our desperate heroes, who are holding hands and shivering.
And in the process of playing who-can-derobe- the-other-faster to the shock of their younger brother who had frozen to the spot and apparently glued himself onto the stairwell.
"Really, Fred, we have to tell her." gasped George as he arched indefinitely onto the springy mattress with his twin straddling his stomach.
"But why?" whined Fred, pausing momentarily to let George catch his breath before continuing to tickle the toes one by one. "I mean... if it was two years before I would have understood but really!"
A thunderstorm clapped overhead, turning the sky into a maelstrom of violent winds, how fitting for a confession day.
Tears leaked out of the corner of George's eyes, at the pain... oh the unbearable pleasure of having one's foot tickled.
"That's what she asked me to do!" screamed George, as he rolled over, twisting and writhing beneath his twin.
"And since when have you listened to her?" asked Fred crossly, stripping the foot free of its socky companion. "Oy, ickle Ronnie-kin, if you're not going to join in then go away."
"Fred." moaned George,
"Alright, alright, we'll tell, just don't come crying to me when she disowns us or something because I'll say 'I told you so'."
So the twins on their socked feet, or foot in George's case, crept into the kitchen where Molly Weasley was cheerfully arranging and rearranging the pile of letters with a swift flick of her wand.
"Can't we come back at a time when she doesn't have the bloody wand?" whispered Fred,
"Sure... ouch, Fred!"
"Fred? George?" called Molly suspiciously. The twins came up to her, their heads bowed. The thunder gave a loud roar at that moment and the lights flickered off. Ron did not come down asking for a candle for he had been removed from the house entirely for the lack of a part in later paragraphs. "What's wrong?"
They could think of a number of things that was wrong.
The light was out, and there was something suspiciously wet sliding down George's head...
"Mum we have to confess something..."
"Did you blow up another toilet?"
"Did you kill anyone with your jokes?"
"Did you send Percy one of your Chinese finger traps?"
"I don't think we've done that one yet..."
"Have you betrayed the order?"
"Have you changed in to new underwhere...?"
"Yeah, wait... mum...!"
"Alright then what's wrong?"
"We're gay." the thunder boomed, the lightning illuminating the three figures in the kitchen ominously, defying the laws of physics which state that light travels faster than sound.
"Oh that's nice." commented Molly and she began to reply to some of the letters while tossing a few other into the fireplace for kindling.
"We're having a relationship."
"Oh good, new family members, the house is so empty and quiet with the Authoress kidnapping people this way and that."
"With each other."
"Oh well, but I really would have liked new family members..."
"Mum!" Fred raised his voice loudly, Molly blinked owlishly at him. "Aren't yo a little mad that your sons are... gay and having an incestuous relationship?"
"Oh, not really... but did you hear? Remus plans to throw a wedding with the dead ghost of Sirius who has been brought back for 24 hours under a mysterious curse created by an even more mysterious authoress."
"I forgot... we're in the fandom. OOCness is a must in such."
"Like twincest isn't a fandom thing... we tried... we really did."
"I guess that's all that matters... not..."
"Do I get a kiss?"
"Oh no, we have to go into a full snogging session with our mother egging us on, right... now."
George shivered, fingering the razor edge as he contemplated if his life was worth taking. Well dying would most certainly be better than being half naked on top of a roof with nothing but a floating mirror to see himself in and a magical blade that kept bouncing back up whenever he threw it back down. It didn't help that his voice never managed to carry on beyond a few precious centimeters and that his clothing mysteriously disappeared one-by-one with a sinister cackle with only one culprit in mind.
He winced as a thick novel hit his skull, knocking the thought of 'must kill authoress' down the two story building along with the book. Fred wondered why his knife didn't do that but oh well.
"No George...!" was that Fred? Or was it someone else? It sounded so far away... "don't do it...!"
Sighing, George raised the blade to slice it through...
"Would you stop that?" snapped George irritably at his twin, who was equally half naked and was in the process of making faint screams.
"Can't argue with the script." shrugged the redhead, before making barely detectable moans that would have made Moaning Myrtle proud.
"I'm trying to cut my hair and you're not helping." sniffed George sulkily, "I feel unloved."
"Aww there, there Georgie-worgie... I'm here for you."
"I hate it when you call me that."
"Would you like me to call you Elmer instead?"