Lord Voldemort Orders a Pizza

(or tries)

Lord Voldemort was feeling peckish.

It had been a year to the day of Potter's defeat. The boy had fought bravely and skillfully, but, in the end, he had fallen like so many others before him.

Still, the boy had spunk, and Lord Voldemort could respect that.

Harry Potter had been a respectable, worthy opponent and the anniversary of the victory merited something... special.

His stomach growled fiercely, demanding food. Lord Voldemort lounged languorously on his throne of human bones. He stroked his white chin with his long, skeletal fingers, trying to remember the contents of the refrigerator.

Last night's dinner of roasted goblin might provide left-overs, but Lord Voldemort didn't DO leftovers. Not since he was a young boy in a muggle orphanage...

The painful memories brought a bitter scowl to his face. A flash of memories assaulted his mind at once of loud, noisy and disgusting children all crowded around a dirty table, fighting each other for scraps.

With a chuckle of amusement he remembered his first controlled magical burst. He'd broken Sally Munkin's arm for grabbing the last piece of chicken.

No, save for the day they celebrated the young Lord Voldemort's imminent departure from their ramshackle orphanage, there were no culinary delights in that muggle hell.

Save for the day they had pizza.

"WORMTAIL!" Voldemort bellowed. The strength of his voice rocked the walls of Slytherin Castle. The tall doors of the throne room opened slowly, a rotund, sniveling coward of a man shuffled into the room and prostrated himself before his Lord, quivering inside his black robes.

"Y-yes, my lord?"

"Worm, you are a coward." Voldemort declared after a minute's pause (in which he delighted in wormtail's aggregating fear).

"Yes, my Lord. I am sorry." Wormtail replied. Voldemort sighed.

"Worm, bring me the telephone and the phonebook." Lord Voldemort commanded, practically giddy in his anticipation. Of course, he showed no outward signs of it. Lord Voldemort simply doesn't do 'giddy'.

Wormtail returned with a stylish telephone made of solid gold, the old fashioned dial mounted on the base. Under his silver arm rested a yellow book.

"Now go to the entrance hall, worm, and wait. All will become clear." Lord Voldemort spoke enigmatically.

Wormtail, eager to be away from his Lord who terrified him so, turned to flee for the door. A bolt of lightning caught him in the small of the back, throwing him to the floor and sending waves of agony through his body.

"Worm, you don't turn your back on your Lord." Voldemort explained cruelly, pocketing his wand. "Now begone." He said to the smoking wizard, who all but crawled to the door.

When the coward had left, Lord Voldemort flicked the book open with his long fingers, his blood red eyes scanned the pages.

Luigi's or Max's? There were several chain restaurants listed, but Lord Voldemort wanted something special, something made with care, just for him...

After a moment's pause, he made his decision. He would order from both, and the slowest to deliver would die. Satisfied that his plan was sufficiently diabolical, he lifted the golden telephone to his lap and began the long process of dialing the number.


"Thank you for calling Luigi's this is Max, how may I help you." A voice on the other end of the phone spoke into Lord Voldemort's ear.

Lord Voldemort, for the first time in a long time, knew not what to say.

LV: "Pizza, I want pizza."

Max: "Rrright... pick-up? Delivery? Dine-in? Which is it, man?"

Man? The impertinence!

LV: "Delivery!"

Max: "Alright man, no need to shout, nice and easy now. What's your name, guy?"

LV: "Lord Voldemort."

Max: "Lord Voldemo-"

LV: "Don't speak my name, you filthy muggle!"

Max: silence


The noise was so loud that Lord Voldemort distanced himself from the ear-piece with a flinch. Why, that fucking muggle! Nobody hangs up on Lord Voldemort!

Knowing what he must do, Lord Voldemort dialed the number again, a manic grin threatening to split his face in two.


"Thank you for calling Luigi's, this is Max, how can I help you." That fucking muggle spoke, not knowing that event's were already in motion that would culminate in his agonizing death.

LV: "Delivery." With a pained grimmace, Lord Voldemort lowered his voice and added, "Please." hoping to hell that none of his Death Eaters heard him say please to a muggle. He reassured himself by fantasizing about killing Max, and eating delicious pizza to celebrate his triumph.

Max: "Right-o, name please?"

LV: "John Smith." Voldemort snickered.

Max: "Okay Mr. Smith, I'll need your address."

LV: "Slytherin Castle."

Max: pause ... silence ... "I'm sorry?"

Lord Voldemort cursed.

LV: "The big castle on the hill, above town."

Max: "Umm... kay. Phone number?"

The words struck fear into the heart of Lord Voldemort. Phone number? How the fuck should he know his phone number?

"WORMTAIL! GET IN HERE, NOW!" He bellowed, the telephone forgotten. Wormtail all but flew into the room. "Master! I'm here!" He gasped, holding the stitch in his side.

"What's my phone number, worm?" Lord Voldemort asked quickly, a comical look of hope on his face. His hopes sunk like a baby in a lake however when he saw the blank look of horror on Worm's face.


LV: "Umm, I don't know the number."

Max: "I heard what you said. You're that Lord freak from before. Stop pranking us!"


"Worm. Go to Luigi's pizzeria. Kill the muggle named Max. Burn the place."


There was nothing for it. Lord Voldemort would have to go with his second choice, Max's Pizza.

Max's Pizza: "Thank you for calling Max's pizza, this is a Luigi! What can I get for you, eh?"

LV: "Are you FUCKING with me?"

Luigi: "Excuse me?"

LV: "It matters not, muggle. Lord Voldemort wants pizza. Delivery."

Luigi: silence ... "Okay. One delivery for Lord Voldmart."

LV: "Lord Vol-DE-Mort!"

Luigi: "Err... ok, Lord Voldemort."

LV: "Don't say the name."

Luigi: pause ... "Phone number, sir?"

LV: "Irrelevant."

Luigi: "I need a number, sir."

LV: "You will be compensated well to bend the rules in this matter, muggle."

Luigi: "Are you a playing Luigi?"

LV: "I require a large cheese and pepperoni. And, ah yes, a side order of the spicy buffalo wings."

Luigi: "Very good, sir. Address?"

LV: "Slytherin Castle. On the hill above town."

Luigi: "Anything to drink for you tonight, Mr. Voldermort?"

LV: "Not necessary, muggle. I have a fresh litre of dragon's blood."

Luigi: "Err... right. It'll be there in thirty minutes or it's free."

LV: "It'll be twenty minutes or you'll be crucio'ed."

Luigi: "Errr... right. Thanks for calling."


Fucking muggles... "Wormtail!"

Wormtail re-entered the throne room, dark blood stained his robes. "Did you kill the pizza guy, wormtail?" Voldemort inquired.

"Y-yes, my lord. He screamed most magnificently." Wormtail answered, his voice aquiver.

"And did you bring back pizza, worm?"

The look of horror on wormtail's face answered the question more completely than any words possibly could. Lord Voldemort sighed.

"Take the invisibility cloak. Go to Max's pizzeria, steal the first pepperoni pizza that comes out of the oven. Don't fail me, worm, or you shall feel my wrath."

"Y-yes, my Lord." Wormtail murmured, carefully bowing out of the room.

The telephone book burst into flames in his hands, quickly reducing itself to ashes. He chucked the phone across the hall, where it skidded with a clatter across the floor.

And Lord Voldemort wondered, not for the first time, why such simple matters always became so difficult.

But if Lord Voldemort could be certain of one thing, he was certain of this: He wasn't eating any fucking leftover goblin.