101 Chapters Why Severus Snape Hates His Life
Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned! Yes, I have sinned grievously by not updating this story in almost three months! I'm really sorry, but here's what happened: I apparently murdered several dozen people in a past life. At least, I assume I must have, because I can't think of anything I've done in this life to justify the shit I've been having to deal with lately. I could explain, but I honestly don't have the energy. I knew back before I finished chapter 7 that things were about to get pretty rough around here, but (to quote my esteemed president) I "misunderestimated" how bad the situation would get. My life became extremely hectic. I'm sorry I haven't responded to any PMs or reviews or anything until recently, but I just managed to get my internet connection set up in my new house about a week ago.
Anyway, I'm back. Betcha all thought I was dead or sick of writing, huh? No, no – never. I'm wayyyyy too amused by my own stupidity and all of your fabulous ideas! I hope I'll be able to update more frequently now, but I can't give you a timeframe. It all depends. I will definitely be updating, though; this is the only source of silliness and stupidity in my life at the moment, and I have no desire to let go of it. For a while there, I kind of felt like I'd blown a "funny fuse." Sometimes, when you spend all your time making other people laugh during a difficult situation, you forget to laugh yourself. So, I feel like I've fallen out of my stride a bit. This chapter was hard to write for some reason. Despite the impressive influx of ideas from all my lovely reviewers, I had trouble pulling them together. In fact, I had SO much trouble that I actually watched all three of the original Star Wars movies. (Yes, my writers' block was THAT bad.) And for the record, I don't even like those movies. If it hadn't been for the fact that James Earl Jones did the voice of Darth Vader, I wouldn't have made it through them. Fortunately, James Earl Jones is awesome – I could listen to him read the list of ingredients on the backs of shampoo bottles for hours and still be entertained.
The first little section of this chapter isn't actually intended to be funny. I was just trying to drag Snape (kicking and screaming) back into character. And you will notice that I've only used a couple of your ideas. I'm sorry about that – I'll integrate more of your ideas into each chapter in the future, but I was having a lot of trouble writing this. I was just anxious to crank this one out, and I needed to use this chapter to get my bearings. I'm not entirely pleased with my work on this one, actually. As it turns out, writing a Star Wars RPG was sort of difficult. I didn't really know what to do, so I figured I'd just make the characters yell and scream at each other. As usual. No surprises there. Again, credit will be given at the end of the chapter.
By the way, one of my reviewers called something to my attention: in the course of this story, Snape has brought about the death of two cats. I didn't realize it until someone pointed it out. When I killed Madame Muffinton in chapter 7, I didn't even think about the fact that I'd also killed Umbridge's cat in chapter 5. While it's true that I often impress my views and opinions (e.g., thinking Tom Cruise is a no-talent, despicable, pathetic waste of space who shouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as the rest of us) onto my characters, Snape's hatred of cats was not inspired by my own feelings. Actually, I have four myself (yes, I'm one of those women – a crazy cat-lady). I don't really know why I decided to make Snape hate cats. Maybe it's because he strikes me as the kind of person who would hate pretty, fluffy, sweet things.
NOTE: For those of you who haven't watched Star Wars in awhile, don't worry. I doubt any of this will go over your heads. There's not a whole lot of plot involved.
New spells (several of them) and their very loose translations:
Corruo – to fall to the ground; sink down
Resarcio Sanitas – to restore to sanity
Consurgo – to stand; rise
Depulso – to thrust away
Surculus Capillus – to sprout hair
Subsisto – to cease; halt
Disclaimer: Nothing, nothing, nothing is mine. My reviewers' ideas obviously aren't mine. I had nothing to do with the creation of Star Wars. The long, random Clerks parody definitely isn't mine. The paraphrased quote from Bad Santa doesn't belong to me. And we all know who Snape, Lucius, etc. belong to.
Chapter 8: Lucius! Use the force!
It was Sunday, October 5th, and Severus Snape had decided, for once, to sleep late. He was having a very pleasant dream…
"Well, well, well, Mr. Potter," said Snape softly. "It seems you are in quite a predicament…"
Snape smiled cruelly as he watched The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Live-A-Hell-Of-A-Lot-Longer-If-Snape-Had-Anything-To-Say-About-It slowly wake from a sound, potion-induced sleep. Harry opened his eyes and gazed at Snape drowsily for a moment before realizing that something was horribly wrong. For a few seconds, he simply stared blankly as his professor's cold, obsidian eyes bored into him; then something seemed to click, and Harry's eyes widened in fear as he attempted to leap to his feet. That move proved unwise, however, as his efforts to stand were thwarted by the ropes which bound his hands and ankles, and he immediately toppled to the ground, landing unceremoniously on his face. Snape let out a harsh laugh as Harry struggled to sit up.
"My deepest and most profound apologies, Potter," said Snape with mock sincerity. "Clearly, I should have explained the full details of your situation to you at the outset. As usual, you are incapable of looking before you leap, and for once, that decision has caused you to fall flat on your face – literally, in this instance."
"Let me loose, Snape!" yelled Harry furiously.
"Manners, Potter," returned Snape dangerously. "The rest of the world may blithely ignore or foolishly indulge your insolence, but you will not receive the same blind tolerance from me."
"You're going to regret this. When Professor Dumbledore finds out about this, you won't just get fired – you'll be sent to Azkaban!"
"Ah, but the Headmaster is already aware. He cannot help you, Potter – or rather, he will not help you. He has agreed—"
"Dumbledore would never agree to something like this, you evil, lying git!"
"Hmm, I really prefer the title "Professor," Potter, but since I'm having such a delightful time, I am in rather a pleasant mood and – therefore – prepared to excuse your lack of manners. I suppose you can hardly be faulted for your poor social graces, after all – not only were you raised by muggles, but you are also the son of James Potter, a hereditary condition which no doubt impairs both your ability to reason and your ability to hold your tongue when necessary."
"You won't get away with this!" cried Harry, glaring at Snape with all the hatred he could muster.
"Are you quite certain of that?" asked Snape, raising an eyebrow. "You will find, I think, that you've lost a bit of your – ah – clout with the wizarding world. Helping to bring about the return of the Dark Lord is an exploit most people frown upon."
"There was nothing I could do! I—"
"No, no, Potter. I've no interest in listening to your fervent, pathetic, and wholly inadequate protestations. You see, I have brought you here to duel."
"What?!" snapped Harry.
Snape pointed his wand at the ropes imprisoning Harry and thought Diffindo! Then he reached into his own robes and pulled out Harry's wand, which he quickly threw across the dungeon. Harry rose with some difficulty and rushed to retrieve it.
"Now then," said Snape as soon as Harry laid hands on his wand, "let us begin. Are you prepared?"
Harry glared but said nothing. His wand hand was trembling.
Snape smiled at his opponent's obvious trepidation and raised his wand. He inclined his head slightly and said, "Bow, Potter."
"No," Harry growled.
"I wish you wouldn't force me to repeat the maneuver the Dark Lord's had to exercise during your disastrous duel last summer, but if you refuse to bow voluntarily, I will make you. Now bow!"
"NO!" yelled Harry belligerently.
"Very well. Perhaps it's better this way. But I think…I would rather see you kneel – that seems a more eloquent show of deference, wouldn't you agree?"
Snape pointed his wand at Harry and thought, Corruo! Harry immediately fell to his knees.
"Now rise," whispered Snape as he lifted the spell.
Harry scrambled to his feet and shouted, "Stupi—"
Snape effortlessly blocked the curse with a slight twitch of his wand and thought, Sepelio Mentis! Harry's fervent screams were music to Snape's ears. Curious as to what the boy was seeing, he pointed his wand at him and thought, Legilimens! In Harry's mind, Snape saw dementors swarming around him. Harry was without a wand and cowering in fear. A dementor reached forward with its scaly hand and closed it's bony fingers around the terrified boy's head. He screamed as the creature lowered its hood and positioned its mouth directly above Harry's. Smirking, Snape withdrew from his mind. He kept his wand trained on Harry and thought the countercurse, Resarcio Sanitas! Then he watched as the spell fell away; Harry drew up into a fetal position and started to cry."
"Get up, Potter."
Harry sobbed harder and didn't move.
"Sniveling little girl. I wonder which of us James Potter would call 'Snivellus' now. Get up!" Snape thought, Consurgo!, and Harry was restored to his feet.
Harry picked up his wand from the ground and pointed it at Snape, who was still smirking, and shouted, "Cruc—"
Snape's dark eyes flashed, and Harry was blasted off his feet as Snape thought, Depulso! "I don't think so, Potter," he sneered disdainfully. "Predictably, that was an exceedingly poor effort. Allow me to demonstrate… Crucio!"
Snape allowed Harry to writhe under the curse for several minutes, and he realized he could never tire of such a pleasing sight. And yet, he was far more anxious to reach the finale of this little demonstration. After all, one can have too much of a good thing. And if he kept this up, he would be late for lunch. He lifted the curse, and Harry lay on the ground, trembling violently.
"Care to make one last attempt to curse me?" asked Snape, black eyes glittering malevolently. "Or should I be merciful and end this quickly?" Harry said nothing, and Snape shrugged. "Very well," he said quietly. Smiling gleefully, he shouted, "Sectumsempra!"
He watched with satisfaction as Harry screamed and bled. But after a couple of minutes, he frowned. "My Lord, Potter. Your ceaseless bleeding is making a mess of my dungeon. Best to finish this now, I think. Avada—"
But suddenly Harry stopped bleeding and leapt to his feet. Despite his lack of a wand, he blocked the Killing Curse with a shrug of his shoulders.
Snape stared, dumbfounded. "But that's not possib—"
Before he could finish his sentence, however, Snape was lifted into the air, and strings attached themselves to his hands and feet. Then, against his will, he began to dance – a horrible, embarrassing Riverdance to the tune of… Master of Puppets? And Harry stood there, grinning maliciously and singing the song at the top of his lungs.
"Excellent work, Harry m'boy," said Voldemort's high voice. Snape gasped in surprise and looked up at the Dark Lord in horror. Voldemort was huge, and he was manipulating the strings which were forcing Snape to dance feverishly.
Still addressing Harry, Voldemort asked, "Would you care for a kitty muffin?"
"Er, no thanks, dude," said Harry uncomfortably. "I'm… on a diet."
"Suit yourself," said Voldemort nonchalantly as he reached into his robes, withdrew a fresh cat muffin, and took a big bite.
"AGGGHHHHHH!" screamed Snape in terror as he woke from the dream (which had turned into a nightmare). He fell out of his bed and toppled to the floor. He was tangled in bed sheets, and he snarled in comprehension when he heard the sound of his phone playing Master of Puppets. The Dark Lord was calling. With difficulty, he extricated himself from the blankets and grabbed his nauseatingly pink cell phone.
Opening it, he bellowed, "WHAT!?!"
"How dare you!" said Voldemort's angry voice. "What do you mean, 'What'?"
"You woke me up!" exclaimed Snape.
"I think someone may need an attitude adjustment," said Voldemort quietly. "Would you care to find out whether the Cruciatus works over the phone?"
"Er, no, my Lord," said Snape quickly. "I apologize for my boorish behavior – I was merely startled. I didn't mean–"
"Fine, fine," said Voldemort in a bored voice, "stop your sniveling."
Snape bristled at the word "sniveling," but held his tongue.
"I called you," continued Voldemort, "to inform you that your presence is required at Malfoy Manor by 10:00 this morning."
Snape looked at the clock on the wall. It was 9:58 AM. "…10:00? But… but that's in two minutes, my Lord, and I haven't even—"
"Just get off your ass and come!" said Voldemort brusquely as he hung up the phone.
Snape glared at the floor for a moment. "Goddammit," he muttered.
Snape arrived at the Manor at 10:15 AM. He was well rested but extremely depressed. He was late. By the Dark Lord's strict standards, he was very late. This was going to be bad.
Lucius opened the door and looked at Snape appraisingly. "You're totally fucked," he said simply.
Snape scowled. "Thank you, Lucius, but I am already aware of that. Perhaps if the Dark Lord had given me more than two minutes notice, I might have arrived in a more timely manner." He strode into the parlor and looked around. "Why didn't your elf answer the door? Has Avery finally killed him?"
"No," replied Lucius. "Buttmunch has been upstairs cleaning the bathroom for the past two hours."
"Yes," Lucius said, rolling his eyes. "It seems Amycus decided to have a burrito at a goddamn Mexican restaurant about an hour before he came over here. Turns out, the restaurant had a health rating of 63."
"So is he sick?" asked Snape.
"No, he's fine. But my bathroom isn't. He got it out of his system in a hurry. As he put it, he 'had an explosion'."
Snape scrunched up his face in disgust and decided to change the subject. "Is Narcissa here?"
"No," said Lucius acerbically, "she's out spending my money in Diagon Alley. The woman seems to think I'm made of galleons."
"And aren't you?" asked Snape with a smirk.
Lucius glared at him and said, "Come on – let's go into the living room. We'll see if you're still smirking when the Dark Lord gets through with you."
Snape scowled and followed his irritable friend into the next room. He looked around to see who was there: Alecto, Amycus, Goyle, Crabbe, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Dolohov, and Wormtail. Snape stopped short when he saw the Dark Lord sitting in an armchair, munching on a sandwich and sipping a glass of Firewhiskey contently.
"Good morning, my Lord," Snape said nervously. "I apologize for my tardiness, but—"
Voldemort frowned and looked around for a clock. "Are you late? What time is it?"
"Er… 10:01," Snape lied, hoping that being one minute late was more acceptable than being 15 minutes late.
"Oh well. Help yourself to some food, Severus," said Voldemort, pointing at the large platter of sandwiches that was sitting on the coffee table. "I'll torture you later when I'm in the mood."
Snape eyed the sandwiches warily. "What kind are they?" He was hungry, but he wasn't willing to take a chance that the sandwiches were made of cats or spider monkeys or lemurs or any other unconventional deli meat.
"I can assure you they aren't made of cat," said Lucius bitterly. "I'm fresh out of cat."
When Snape still looked hesitant, Bellatrix snapped, "It's just peanut butter, you cowardly, miserable old bat."
"Ugh," said Snape with a look of disgust, "I hate peanut butter."
"Why?" asked Dolohov from across the room.
"Because it sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I can't talk," answered Snape. "It's disgusting."
"What, are you afraid you won't be able to pronounce your pretentious, 7-syllable, pompous words correctly if you indulge in a bit of peanut butter?" sneered Bellatrix.
"Are you implying that my manner of speech is affected and grandiloquent?"
"Overblown jackass," she muttered.
"What are you insinuating, you repellant whore?" growled Snape.
"I'm not insinuating anything. I'm flat-out telling you – you're a pompous asshole. You sound like an idiot."
"'Pompous asshole' is not my preferred appellation, and—"
"See?!" she exclaimed, as if he had just proven her point. "You sound like you swallowed a thesaurus."
"Oh, I see, Bellatrix. You'd rather I spoke as you do? Like a feeble-minded, subnormal child who deserves a seat at the very back of the 'short bus'?"
"No, I'd rather you talked like a normal human being. Oh wait, there's nothing normal about you – from your greasy hair to your hooked—"
"There is nothing abnormal about the way I speak!" snarled Snape.
"Oh look, I'm Professor Severus S. Snape!" mocked Bellatrix. "I have lamentably chosen that deplorable profession due to my overwhelming need to torment children twenty years younger than my haughty, bombastic, arrogant self because I'm a huge dick on a pathetic power trip! Treating other human beings like shit is the only way I can validate my pointless existence! I use words like 'grandiloquent' and 'desideratum' and 'sedulous' and 'appellation' and 'pestiferous' and a slew of other POMPOUS words that no one else uses!"
"It's no fault of mine that your puerile mind is incapable of processing—"
"God, both of you just shut the fuck up!" snapped Voldemort.
"Yes, my Lord," said Bellatrix and Snape together.
Not knowing exactly what to say or why they were all gathered together, the Death Eaters stared at Voldemort in silence as he gnawed on his sandwich. Snape curled his lip in disgust as he watched the tyrannical bastard chew. He was chewing obnoxiously, with his mouth wide open, and there were little crumbs sticking to his lips. It made Snape want to hurl.
Suddenly, Voldemort began to make loud grunting and coughing noises. His Death Eaters stared at him in perplexity. Then he reached up and placed both hands on his throat. Snape instantly recognized it as the universal sign for "I'm choking!" His companions, however, weren't as astute…
"What's he doing?" asked Goyle.
"He's grabbing his throat all funny," said Amycus thoughtfully. "…Does that mean he wants us to suck his dick?"
"That's stupid! Why the hell would that mean he wants us to suck his dick?" asked Crabbe.
"Oh, how vile," muttered Alecto.
"Well, I dunno," said Amycus defensively. "I mean, it sort of looks like he's choking himself, and the phrase 'choking the chicken' means 'masturbating'."
"So he wants to masturbate?" asked Bellatrix, frowning.
"Maybe he wants us to masturbate him," suggested Rodolphus.
"Oh, nasty," said Crabbe.
"Well, I'm not having any part of that," declared Rabastan. "But go ahead, Rodolphus – masturbating guys is your area of expertise, isn't it? Your favorite pastime? Have at it, fruitloop."
"Ugh, no!" exclaimed Rodolphus. "Gay men have standards, thank you very much."
"Oh, so you finally admit it!" yelled Bellatrix angrily.
"He's gay?" asked Amycus.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Well, well, the last horse finally crosses the finish line. Yes, Amycus. He's as gay as those assholes who never gave up on disco and continue to wear platform shoes and bellbottoms every Friday night at the club. Everyone else has figured that out. Except you. Because you're nigh retarded and-"
"I still think he wants his dick sucked," interrupted Wormtail.
"No, no," replied Goyle, "I think the 'suck my dick' sign is, like… both hands crossed over your groin." He made an obscene gesture to demonstrate.
"Are you sure?" asked Amycus. "Maybe he just has a different interpretation."
"Well, I'm not sucking him off!" repeated Rabastan adamantly.
"No one even asked you, you raging homophobe!" snapped Rodolphus.
"Well someone has to suck it—"
"Goddammit, you witless imbeciles!" snarled Snape. "He's not requesting a blowjob! He's CHOKING!"
"Ohhhhhh," said the rest of the Death Eaters with dawning comprehension.
"But… but it might be both, though," offered Wormtail, who seemed determined to make the situation more complicated than it actually was.
"Maybe he wants to be choked while he gets a blowjob," suggested Lucius.
"You mean like autoerotic asphyxiation?" asked Bellatrix.
"Well, I'm not coming within 10 feet of that bald bastard's shaft!" yelled Rabastan frantically, as if he couldn't get anyone to listen to him.
"What the FUCK is your problem?" snapped Rodolphus. "Is this about me? Do you have something to say to me? What is your problem with homosexuality?"
"Do you think the Dark Lord has any pubes?" interjected Wormtail.
"Why would you even think about that?! What, are you looking to braid them, you slimy, queer little rodent?" hissed Bellatrix viciously.
"Is the Dark Lord trying to—" began Lucius.
"NO, YOU IDIOTS!" bellowed Snape furiously. "HE'S JUST CHOKING! WHAT IS YOUR PREOCCUPATION WITH DICK-SUCKING?!?"
Everyone went silent for a moment, except Voldemort, who was still grunting and gesturing urgently. He looked pretty fucking stupid, but no one was paying him much attention.
After a long pause, Lucius said, "What do you mean, Severus? Do you not like having your dick sucked?"
Amycus frowned. "Yeah, what's your problem? Everyone loves blowjobs."
"Are you gay?" asked Rabastan accusingly.
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" snarled Rodolphus. "Gay men love to get their dicks sucked! You think I don't enjoy a good blowjob once and awhile just because I'm gay?? I like blowjobs more than most people! I masturbate just from thinking about blowjobs!"
"That's not something to brag about!" snapped Rabastan.
"Bigot!" hissed Rodolphus.
"Yeah, that's just straight-up ignorant, Rabastan," said Lucius disapprovingly.
"Wh-what?" stammered Rabastan. "But I never said – I—I mean… there's nothing wrong with… I mean, not really… I—I… What??"
"Um, excuse me," said Bellatrix. "Forgive me for interrupting, but I think what we should be focusing on is Snape's distaste for blowjobs. There's something really wrong with a man who has an aversion to blowjobs."
"I don't have a problem with blowjobs!" protested Snape. "This just isn't the time to be discussing—"
"Well of course you don't want to discuss it, you repugnant, undesirable old turd!" said Bellatrix. "You've never had one, so you're awkward about—"
"I most certainly have!" cried Snape indignantly. "What makes you think—"
"What is this obsession with blowjobs?" asked Alecto exasperatedly.
"Hah! What woman would put your greasy prick in her mouth?" Bellatrix taunted, ignoring Alecto.
"How dare you—!" began Snape furiously.
"Yeah, that's a dick only a mother could love," said Amycus moronically.
"Are you implying that I've engaged in sexual relations with my mother?" yelped Snape, somewhat shrilly.
"Ooooh, defensive, are we?" jeered Bellatrix. "So it's true? Afraid someone is going to find out about your mommy fetish?"
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, you foul, revolting, street-walking hook—"
"Hey— hey guys," interrupted Lucius. "I just noticed something. I think the Dark Lord is sort of… choking."
"YOU JUST NOTICED THIS?!" yelled Snape incredulously.
"Choking?!" cried Bellatrix despairingly, as if this were the first time the idea had been posited. "Someone do something!"
"Yeah, we should probably help," agreed Crabbe reluctantly.
No one moved.
"Save him!" yelped Bellatrix as she watched Voldemort crawling toward his Death Eaters, mouthing the words, "Help me!"
Amycus frowned. "He's been choking for about 10 minutes. Is that even possible? Personally, I think he's putting on."
"No one cares what you think!" hissed Bellatrix.
"Heh. Amycus isn't really thinking," snickered Goyle. "If he was, his head would have exploded by now."
"Seriously, though, I don't have a problem with blow jobs," interjected Snape randomly. "In fact, I absolutely adore—"
"HELP HIM!" shrieked Bellatrix, pointing at Voldemort.
"How?" asked Amycus.
"Do the Heineken!" cried Bellatrix desperately.
"Heineken is a beer, you drunken strumpet!" Snape barked. "You mean the Heimlich maneuver!"
"WHATEVER!" screeched Bellatrix in a panicky voice. "JUST DO IT!"
"No thank you," answered Snape disdainfully.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"…Truth be told," began Snape hesitantly, "I'm not terribly fond of touching him."
Bellatrix whipped out her wand and pointed it at Snape's chest. "DO it, or so help me god, I'll end your worthless life right now!"
Realizing that there was no way he could get his wand out in time to defend himself, he scowled at Bellatrix and began walking toward Voldemort. "Just so you know, Bellatrix," he snarled over his shoulder, "there's no way in hell any deity would be stupid enough to help you. Bitch."
Then he reluctantly pulled the Dark Lord to his feet and positioned himself behind Voldemort. Placing his fists beneath the hairless prick's diaphragm, Snape began thrusting upward and pulling the choking despot toward him. He thrust harder and harder, but try as he might, the obstruction would not dislodge itself from his throat. Snape realized that he probably looked ridiculous, and his humiliation and disgust compelled him to thrust even harder in an attempt to get the embarrassing display over with. After about 45 seconds of this, the other Death Eaters began to snicker. From their point of view, Snape and Voldemort appeared to be engaged in a particularly enthusiastic (and reasonably violent) hump-fest.
Infuriated by their suggestive sniggering, Snape grunted, "Fuck… you… all…!" between thrusts.
When Voldemort began mouthing the word, "Harder!" over and over again, Lucius, Rodolphus, Wormtail, and Crabbe burst into uncontrollable laughter. Wormtail actually fell to the floor in a fit of giggles when Rodolphus yelled, "Harder, Snape! You're almost there! Finish him!"
Suddenly, an enormous chunk of peanut butter and slobbery bread flew from Voldemort's mouth, and he went limp in Snape's arms. Panting, Snape dropped him to the floor and looked up at his audience.
"Well, that looked satisfying," commented Lucius, smirking.
"Heh. So, was it good for you, Severus? It was obviously good for him," remarked Rodolphus, gazing at Voldemort's exhausted, prostrate form.
Everyone laughed, except for Bellatrix – who was sobbing with relief and kneeling beside Voldemort – and Snape, who was clenching his fists and glaring at Rodolphus murderously.
Snape said nothing and looked down at Bellatrix hatefully as she helped her Lord into a sitting position. The Death Eaters' mouths fell open as they noticed the moisture on the front of Voldemort's robes. Everyone looked thoroughly revolted.
"Ugh, I think he came a little," muttered Goyle.
"Oh, god – oh… gross, oh my god…" said Lucius with a nauseated expression on his face.
"He didn't come!" barked Snape furiously. "He PISSED himself!"
Lucius gasped. "Oh my god, get him off my rug! Someone pick him up – he'll ruin my rug! I can't have pee on my rug! Do you know how much that fucking thing cost?!"
As Lucius ran around the room looking for a towel to clean up the mess, Voldemort managed to gasp, "…Kill… you… all… dead meat… how… dare you… leave me… like… that?"
Upon hearing this, Lucius and the rest of the Death Eaters froze. They stared at one another, terror etched on their faces. They had fucked up, and they knew it. How much of their conversation had the Dark Lord heard? They realized that there was a pretty good chance that Voldemort might really kill them…
But he didn't.
Make no mistake, there's was plenty of torture for everyone involved (particularly Rabastan, who had called Voldemort a "bald bastard"), but no one was actually killed. And about an hour later (when everyone had finally recovered from the effects of the Cruciatus), Voldemort cleared his throat and got up out of his armchair.
"Now, then. Listen up!" he said loudly. "I brought you all here today for a reason."
"What reason is that, my Lord?" asked Lucius.
"I've decided," began Voldemort, "that we should have a 'game day' every so often, simply to keep things interesting. After all, I wouldn't want you to think that being a Death Eater is all about torture and killing. We can have fun, too, can't we?"
"Yes, my Lord," answered the Death Eaters awkwardly.
"So today we're going to play a game," Voldemort continued.
"…What sort of game?" asked Snape suspiciously.
Voldemort smiled cheerfully. "We're going to do a Star Wars RPG!"
"An RP-what?" asked Amycus.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Role playing game. It's when you take a movie or game like Star Wars and pretend to be the characters."
A collective groan rose from the rest of the room. The last thing anyone wanted to do was to act out a muggle movie. "Er, my Lord," began Snape, "this is most unfortunate, but I am afraid I won't be able to participate because—"
Voldemort sighed heavily. "Everyone participates! Everyone has to have a character. Even – and perhaps especially – you. Maybe this will lighten you up a bit. I don't know whether you realize this, but you're a very depressing person to be around."
Snape clenched his jaw in anger. "Fine. But I get to be Gandalf," said Snape firmly.
"That's Lord of the Rings, dipshit," said Bellatrix. "Star Wars is the one about outer space."
Snape curled his lip in disgust but maintained his composure. "Very well. But I get to be Spock."
"That's Star Trek, you ignorant shit!" snapped Bellatrix in exasperation. "Star Wars is the one about the Empire and the Jedi and the Wookiee!"
"Oh, that's right," said Snape condescendingly, "I forgot – you have nothing better to do with your time than watch muggle films. So enlighten me – what in fuck's name might a 'Wookiee' be, Bellatrix?"
"This is unacceptable, Severus," interrupted Voldemort sternly. "There's no way we can play a Star Wars RPG if you've never seen the movies. I'm afraid we're going to have to watch them."
Snape's eyes widened in horror. The thought of having to sit through several muggle films left him momentarily speechless. Then he said, "No, no, my Lord! I… of course I've seen them! I was just attempting to goad Bellatrix into—"
Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow. "Oh, so you've seen them, have you? Then tell me, who or what is Lando Calrissian?"
Snape froze. He had no idea what a "Lando" was. He'd never seen Star Wars, and up until this point, he'd counted himself lucky – sitting around watching movies about spaceships wasn't exactly his cup of tea. He thought quickly. How could he answer the question? Maybe he could reason it out… Let's see, he thought, "Lando Calrissian" has the word "land" in it, so maybe it's a platform the spaceships land on… and I bet there are some cyborgs in the movies because they're science fiction… I'll just make it up as I go… maybe I can play this off…
With as much dignity as he could muster, he said, "Lando Calrissian is a landing platform for spaceships – it is… on the planet of Calrissian. The main characters in the movies, who are… uh, Jedi-Wookiee-cyborgs land on this platform in an attempt to drive out the evil Klingons and restore power to Captain Kirk, who is trying to escape the wrath of Kahn, who lives in Middle-Earth and plans to defeat Sauron by collaborating with Saruman's horde of gigantic preying mantis monsters who are led by Zorak and Will Smith—"
"Jesus Christ, Snape! Did you take a 'Retard Potion' this morning?!" yelled Bellatrix.
Voldemort sighed. "Lucius, get the DVD-player ready."
"…Do we have to watch all six movies, my Lord?" asked Lucius fearfully.
"No, no," replied Voldemort, waving his hand dismissively. "Just the original trilogy."
As Lucius readied the DVD-player, Snape sighed heavily. He retreated to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey that was sitting on the counter. He hoped there were more bottles in the cabinet, because he sure as shit wasn't sharing his with anybody else. Predictable, he thought. The Dark Lord's idea of fun revolves around the sort of activity that would make any self-respecting wizard commit suicide. This is what he woke me out of a sound sleep for?? And people wonder why I hate my life. Idiots. Snape briefly considered killing himself, but decided against doing it in a public place – he didn't want Bellatrix to have the satisfaction of laughing over his dead body. He resigned himself to his depressing situation and walked back into the living room.
"Well, hurry up!" shouted Voldemort. "Everyone's waiting on you!"
"Yes, my Lord," muttered Snape as he took a seat between Lucius and Amycus on the sofa.
"Everyone ready?" asked Voldemort happily. The Death Eaters nodded. "Excellent!"
Then Voldemort turned off the lights and pushed "play" on the DVD control. Snape cringed as the movie's theme music came blasting out of Lucius's huge speakers. As words began scrolling up the screen, he let out a miserable sigh and prepared himself for a very unpleasant afternoon. Well, at least I can use this time to come up with new, inventive ways to exterminate myself, he thought.
By the time the third movie finally ended, Snape had fallen asleep a total of seven times and been kicked by Bellatrix a total of 35 times because he'd been unable to stop making sarcastic comments. As Lucius turned the TV off, Snape elbowed Amycus (who was asleep) hard in the chest.
"What…? Huh…?" mumbled Amycus sleepily.
"That was awesome! So now we pick our characters?" asked Wormtail excitedly.
"I get to be Han Solo!" declared Rodolphus.
"Wouldn't you rather be Princess Leia?" muttered Rabastan.
"If anything, Rodolphus should be that effeminate talking robot," said Lucius, smirking.
"Can I be Bilbo?" asked Amycus groggily.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" shouted Bellatrix. "That's one of the hobbits from Lord of the Rings! How could you not know that? We just watched all three Star—"
"You slept through the whole thing, didn't you?" interrupted Goyle.
Amycus glanced over at Voldemort nervously. "No, I—"
"Yes you did!" accused Crabbe. "I saw you! You were drooling!"
"Drooling?" asked Lucius in alarm. "You better not have drooled on my sofa! It's upholstered in Italian silk!"
Snape rolled his eyes. "Can we just get on with this? I want to be Obi Wan Ke—"
"No, no, no!" shouted Voldemort. "You can't pick your own characters! We're going to draw names from a hat!"
"Oh, that's bullshit…" muttered Amycus.
"Now let's get started," continued Voldemort. He pulled out his wand and produced a hat. Snape looked down at it and saw that it contained several folded slips of paper. When no one moved toward the hat, Voldemort snapped, "Well, go on! Take a name!"
Everyone approached the hat and picked a slip of paper. Then they backed away slowly, afraid to discover their fate. Everyone was mortally terrified they'd get a particularly stupid character.
"Well, open them!" hissed Voldemort impatiently.
The Death Eaters obeyed immediately. Snape's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened in horror as he read the name on his piece of paper:
"FUCK!" shouted Snape. "I'm not going to do this! Yoda's ignorant prattling makes a house elf sound intelligent!"
"You'll do it, or I'll torture you for the rest of the evening!" insisted Voldemort.
"Goddammit!" hissed Snape. "I'm going to kill myself."
"Get into character, Severus!" growled Voldemort in a threatening voice.
"Fine. Kill myself I will," said Snape derisively.
"That's better," said Voldemort approvingly. He looked around at the other Death Eaters. "Well, what did the rest of you get?"
"Luke Skywalker," proclaimed Lucius smugly.
"Obi Wan Kenobi," said Rodolphus, sounding immensely relieved.
"C-3PO," muttered Goyle angrily.
"R2-D2," said Wormtail with a grimace.
"The Emperor," said Alecto, looking a tad disconcerted.
"Han Solo," said Rabastan dispassionately.
"Princess Leia," said Bellatrix, looking pleased.
"You're too butch to play a princess," said Snape. "You deserve to be a Storm Trooper. Or a Wookiee. Or an Ewok. Or an Imperial-fucking-Walker. Fatass."
"I am NOT fat—"
"Shut up, Bellatrix!" chided Voldemort. He shook his head in exasperation and added, "Well, which characters did the rest of you get?"
"Chewbacca," muttered Dolohov glumly.
"Lando Calrissian," said Crabbe with an air of indifference.
"Frodo Baggins," returned Amycus with a thoroughly confused expression on his face.
Everyone turned to look at him. "Frodo?" asked Lucius. "How the hell did that get in there?"
Amycus shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters," snapped Bellatrix. "You can't be a hobbit! It'll mess up the story – it won't make any sense!"
"Christ, chill out Bellatrix," said Voldemort wearily. "We'll just have to work with it."
"But… But it's not—" began Bellatrix.
"What part did you get, my Lord?" interrupted Goyle.
"Darth Vader," replied Voldemort happily.
Snape rolled his eyes. Naturally, he thought. He totally fixed that!
"Well, now that we all have our parts, let's get our equipment together!" said Voldemort eagerly.
Snape watched with a haughty air of detachment as Voldemort transfigured three candles into lightsabers. He handed a blue one to Rodolphus, a green one to Lucius, and kept the red one for himself. He then fitted Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Crabbe with fake space guns. He rolled Bellatrix's hair up into two buns and pinned them on either side of her head. Snape sneered at the rapturous expression on her face. Disgusting! he thought. Every time the Dark Lord touches her, she looks like she's about to cream herself. …Actually, she probably is creaming herself. Ugh. After fixing Bellatrix's hair, Voldemort gave Alecto a cloak that looked very much like the Emperor's.
As Voldemort fussed over details, Wormtail asked, "What about us? Goyle and I are supposed to be robots."
Voldemort looked up from what he was doing. "Well, that's easy enough. Goyle, you're the gold-colored one, right? C-3PO?"
Goyle clenched his jaw in irritation, glared down at the floor, and nodded tightly. In response, Voldemort waved his wand, and a bucket of yellow paint flew through the air and landed on Goyle's head. He cried out in surprise as the paint poured down his face and onto his robes. He stood there for a few moments, his body rigid. Everyone watched him nervously – Goyle was infamous for his bad temper, and if he lost it, they had no idea what he might do or how many of them he might kill before they managed to get him back under control. After a few long seconds, he jerked the bucket off his head and flung it across the room. He glared at Voldemort with a look of profound loathing on his face, and a vein pulsed dangerously in his right temple; his whole body was shaking, and he appeared to be having a violent internal debate about whether he should blast Voldemort off his feet. Soon, however, he regained his composure somewhat and returned his gaze to the floor.
Once he was certain Goyle wasn't going to cause any trouble, Voldemort turned to Wormtail. "And you're the stumpy little robot? R2-D2?"
Wormtail nodded nervously. Voldemort studied him intently for a minute, then shrugged. "Hell, I don't know. Your character doesn't talk, anyway. Just… beep and whistle. Everyone will know who you are."
"Yes, my Lord," said Wormtail, obviously relieved.
"What about Snape?" asked Bellatrix, smiling malevolently. "He doesn't look anything like Yoda. You have to fix him up."
Voldemort looked over at Snape, who was standing stock-still, as if he hoped he could avoid detection by not moving. If that's what he was going for, it didn't work. Voldemort promptly pointed his wand at Snape's head and muttered an incantation. Everyone immediately burst into hysterical laughter.
"Ouch! – SHIT!" cried Snape. He felt like he'd been hit over the head with a mallet. He reached up to grab the top of his head, and his hands landed on… a very large set of ears. Mouth agape, he stood there, pulling at the ears, and wondering what the hell was going on; abruptly, he realized that the Dark Lord had given him Yoda ears. "Oh, goddammit!"
"Oh… my… god…!" gasped Bellatrix, trying to control her laughter. "He finally has an appendage that's bigger than his nose!"
Snape glared at her resentfully. "For your information, I already had an appendage which is much larger than my nose, you abhorrent floozy!"
Alecto wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Thank you, Snape, for that delightful innuendo. There's nothing I'd rather be doing than thinking about your cock."
"It's no fault of mine if your mind is in the gutter!" snarled Snape.
"You're the one who implied that you have a particularly large member! Why are men always so obsessed with—"
"Oh come off it, Alecto!" Snape interrupted. "Your incessant maniacal feminist proclamations are driving everyone insane!"
Alecto bristled. "Well, if the rest of you weren't such chauvinist pigs who felt the need to brag about your—"
"I am not chauvinistically touting the merits of my dick, you overzealous, ball-breaking bitch!" protested Snape.
"Yeah, stop being such a vicious dyke," interjected Crabbe.
Goyle nodded. "The whole 'women's movement' bullshit is getting really old, Alecto. It was cute for a while, and I'm glad you ladies had fun – but it's time for you to get your asses back in the kitchen and bake me a pie."
"Preferably blueberry," added Dolohov, smirking.
"Sexists!" screamed Alecto, trembling with rage. "All of you are sexist!"
Goyle snorted derisively. "Well, why don't you go cry about it with the rest of the oppressed bitches?"
Alecto pulled out her wand and aimed it at Goyle's head. "REDUCTO!"she bellowed. Goyle didn't manage to duck in time, and the curse blew his left ear off. He grabbed the side of his head and fell to the ground, howling in pain.
Voldemort, who had been practicing with his lightsaber on the other side of the room and ignoring the argument up until this point, glanced up and rolled his eyes. "Someone had better fix C-3PO's ear," he said in a bored voice.
"Well, it won't be me, my Lord!" snarled Alecto. "He deserved what he got."
"Severus, fix it," said Voldemort distractedly as he fiddled with his lightsaber.
"I'll not, my Lord," returned Snape defiantly. "I also think he rather deserved it." While it was true that Alecto's constant delusions of female persecution aggravated the hell out of him, Snape didn't actually have a problem with feminism.
"Bellatrix, fix it," murmured Voldemort, still too absorbed with his lightsaber to care that he'd been disobeyed.
"Why?" she asked slyly. "He looks better that way. That bloody mess does him credit – at least it masks the hideous features on the left side of his grotesque face."
"Crabbe, fix it," said Voldemort with a hint of impatience in his voice.
Without a word, Crabbe waved his wand and mended Goyle's severed ear. Panting, Goyle slowly pulled himself to his feet. "You better watch your back, bitch," he growled, addressing Alecto.
"Hah!" she scoffed. "You were just lucky your friends were here to help you. If I ever run across you in a dark alley, I'll reduce you to a whimpering, sobbing heap of foul flesh at my feet."
"I doubt that," Goyle said threateningly. "If we ever meet in a dark alley, I'll give you something to remember me by. Something big. About ten inches, in fact. And your tight little ass will be so sore, you won't be able to shit right for a week. But I can promise you this: you'll love every goddamn minute of—"
Noticing the savage look on Alecto's face, Snape quickly cast a Silencing Charm on Goyle to prevent him from finishing his statement. "Please," said Snape quietly, stepping between them and holding up his hands. "I already have a fucking headache."
Surprised by his gesture, Alecto's expression softened, and she nodded.
"Are you children done bickering?" drawled Voldemort.
"Yes, my Lord," replied the Death Eaters.
"Finally," said Voldemort. "Well, is everyone ready? It's time to start the game."
The room was silent for a moment. After a few seconds, Dolohov said, "Uh, how?"
Alecto glanced over at Dolohov, and a mischievous expression passed over her face. She saw another opportunity to punish a chauvinist pig. "Oh, but my Lord," she began, "we can't start yet. Dolohov doesn't look anything like Chewbacca."
Snape smirked. "True. He's not nearly furry enough."
"I'll fix it!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She pointed her wand at Dolohov and said, "Surculus Capillus!"
He gasped as he felt patches of hair cropping up all over his body. Hair sprouted from every exposed inch of skin, and Snape suspected that he was equally furry beneath his robes. The hair grew uncontrollably, and it was soon ridiculously long. It covered his eyes and mouth, and he let out a muffled, "Help!" from beneath the bushy mass of hair. Snape observed that his face rather resembled the back of Hermione Granger's head.
"Make it stop!" begged Dolohov.
Satisfied (and clearly amused) with her work, Alecto complied, murmuring "Subsisto!"
The Death Eaters roared with laughter as they watched Dolohov attempt to pull the hair away from his eyes and mouth. He looked more like Cousin It from the Adams Family than Chewbacca, and the spectacle was decidedly more entertaining than Snape's Yoda ears.
"I can't see!" came Dolohov's muffled voice.
"How unfortunate," remarked Snape.
"Cut it off!" cried Dolohov desperately.
"No, no – no time for a trim," said Voldemort with a wicked grin. "It's time to get started."
"Uh, I still don't understand how we're supposed to do this," said Crabbe. "How the hell do you play Star Wars?"
"Yeah, what do we do?" asked Amycus.
"Just improvise, you idiots!" snarled Voldemort irascibly.
"Improvise Yoda cannot," mocked Snape. "Spoken to him the Force has not. Confused he is."
"I have an idea," offered Amycus.
"That's a first," muttered Rabastan.
Amycus ignored him. "Let's throw Darth Vader's lightsaber into the fires under Mount Doom!"
"Fuck you, Frodo," said Bellatrix. "That's Lord of the—"
"Well, I don't see you coming up with anything better!" cried Amycus.
"JUST DO SOMETHING!" bellowed Voldemort, pointing his wand threateningly at his Death Eaters.
"Whatever you say," replied Rabastan eagerly. Then he seized Bellatrix and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.
"What the FUCK are you doing?!" demanded Rodolphus. He grabbed Bellatrix's arm and yanked her away from his brother. "That's my wife, you shady bastard!"
"I'm Han Solo, and she's Princess Leia. We're supposed to make out! What the hell do you care, anyway?" countered Rabastan. "It's not like she gets any action from you, you vain, fudge-packing pouf! The woman's probably starved for attention!"
"I give her plenty of—" began Rodolphus.
"I resent that, Rabastan," interrupted Bellatrix.
Rabastan frowned. "Why? It's true."
"Maybe," agreed Bellatrix, "but it's hard for me to feel terribly deprived. It isn't as if I haven't had plenty of sexual gratification in my life."
Rabastan raised an eyebrow skeptically. Snape grinned malevolently and took an involuntary step forward, eager to hear her explanation. Was Bellatrix about to fess up about being the dirty whore he'd always accused her of being?
"What are you talking about?" said Rodolphus accusingly. "You told me you only had sex with three different guys!"
"Yeah right," muttered Snape, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, and I was being honest," replied Bellatrix, disregarding Snape's comment. "But it's not like sex is the only way to fool around."
"Like what?" snapped Rodolphus. "I sure as hell hope you're not talking about blowjobs."
"Oh, now look who has the problem with blowjobs!" said Rabastan accusingly.
"I don't have a problem with getting blowjobs!" exclaimed Rodolphus. "But I have a problem with my wife handing them out like cheese samples at a deli!"
"What, you think giving a blowjob is worse than just fucking someone?" questioned Crabbe.
"Of course!" yelled Rodolphus. "At least when you fuck someone, you don't put your mouth all over his slimy tool!"
"You're being really irrational," commented Goyle.
Rodolphus turned back to Bellatrix. "Are you talking about blowjobs?!"
"Well… yes. But I don't understand what's wrong with—"
"Why did you tell me you only had sex with three different guys??"
"Because I did only have sex with three different guys!" cried Bellatrix defensively. "That doesn't mean I didn't just go with people!"
"Oh my god, I feel so nauseous!" said Rodolphus.
"I'm sorry, Rodolphus, I thought you understood!"
"I did understand! I understood that you had sex with three different guys, and that's all you said!"
"Please calm down," Bellatrix pleaded.
"How many?!" demanded Rodolphus.
"Rodolphus!" cried Bellatrix indignantly, obviously embarrassed. "Let it go!"
"How many dicks have you sucked?!" he screamed.
"Alright! Shut up a minute, and I'll tell you! Jesus! I didn't freak out like this when you told me how many girls you fucked."
"This is different, this is important! How many?"
She paused for a moment, thinking and counting on her fingers.
"Well?" prompted Rodolphus.
She shuffled her feet awkwardly and said quietly, "Something like… 36."
"What?!" howled Rodolphus. "Something like 36?"
"Lower your voice—"
"What is that, anyway? 'Something like 36'? Does that include me?"
"Oh…" said Bellatrix, looking down at the floor. "37."
"I'm 37?!?" bellowed Rodolphus.
"I need a drink," said Bellatrix. "Buttmunch! Get your ass in here and bring me some Firewhiskey!"
Buttmunch rushed into the room. "Buttmunch is sorry, missus. Would the missus repeat what she said? Buttmunch could not be hearing what the lady was saying through the door."
"37!" Rodolphus yelled at the elf. "My wife sucked 37 dicks!"
The elf's eyes widened. "In a row?"
Bellatrix turned on her heel and began walking briskly in the other direction.
"Hey, where are you going?" asked Rodolphus in a belligerent voice.
"Hey, listen, jerk," she shrieked, walking back across the room to punch him in the chest. "Until today, you never knew how many guys I'd blown because you never even bothered to ask! When we met, I asked you how many women you slept with; you told me, then acted all nonchalant about fucking 12 different girls! Well, I never had sex with 12 different guys!"
"No, but you sucked enough dick!"
"Yeah, I went down on a few guys," conceded Bellatrix.
"And one of those guys was you! The last one, I might add, which if you're too stupid to comprehend, means that I've been faithful to you since we met. All the other guys I went with before I met you! So if you want to have a complex, go ahead, but don't look at me like I'm the town whore, because you were plenty busy yourself before you met me!"
Rodolphus sighed in exasperation. "Well, why did you have to suck their dicks? I mean, why couldn't you sleep with them like any other decent person?"
"Because going down isn't a big deal! I used to like a guy, we'd make out, and sooner or later I'd go down on him. But I only had sex with the guys I loved!"
"Oh, I feel sick."
"Don't feel sick!" she protested.
"Every time I kiss you, I'm gonna taste 36 other guys," said Rodolphus bitterly.
"What the fuck's he talking about?" muttered Rabastan. "He probably hasn't kissed a woman in years."
Bellatrix threw up her hands in frustration. "I'm going to get a drink." She turned away from him and strode out of the room.
"I'm 37!" repeated Rodolphus despairingly. "I just can't—"
"Shut up, Rodolphus!" she snarled from the next room.
Rodolphus followed her for a few steps, then stopped. "Hey, try not to suck any dick on the way to the kitchen!" he called.
Crabbe raised an eyebrow. He looked intrigued. He glanced at Rodolphus shiftily, then started toward the kitchen with Wormtail, Goyle, and Rabastan close behind him.
"Hey! Hey you!" Rodolphus growled at them. "Get back here!"
Once Bellatrix returned to the living room, it took a few minutes to get Rodolphus under control. He was still fuming, and his desire to beat the hell out of Crabbe, Goyle, Rabastan, and Wormtail had been so intense that he'd had to be physically restrained. Bellatrix was drinking Firewhiskey and shooting furious looks in Rodolphus's direction. Voldemort was practicing with his lightsaber intently. Everyone else was just standing around quietly, looking confused.
Finally, Lucius broke the silence: "Okay, enough stalling. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can get this over with."
"Well, we need to decide on a plot," said Crabbe.
"How about this," began Bellatrix, looking thoughtful, "let's just make it easy. Instead of coming up with something original, let's just do exactly what they did in the movies."
"But we can't start at the beginning!" whined Alecto. "It'll take forever!"
"Excellent point," agreed Snape.
"Well, let's start somewhere interesting," said Bellatrix. "Like… let's start with Luke's training."
"But only Snape and I can participate if we do that," said Lucius.
"Well, we can go back and forth," insisted Bellatrix. "We'll do one scene with you two while everybody watches, and then we'll cut to another scene with somebody else."
"Whatever!" snapped Voldemort. "Just hurry up!"
"Uh, right," agreed Bellatrix. "Lucius, you and Snape start. Everyone else, back away and give them some room."
Lucius and Snape stood in the middle of the room, staring at one another, while the rest of the Death Eaters retreated. When Lucius and Snape made no move to begin, Voldemort yelled, "DO SOMETHING!"
"Uh, um, I—er," stammered Lucius. "Uh, Yoda, please teach me to use the Force. I want to be a Jedi like my dad."
Snape struggled to remember what Yoda had said in the movie and finally said, "Too old to begin training you are."
"No I'm not!" said Lucius.
"Angry he is. Like… like his father."
"I'm not angry!"
"Don't give in to hate," said Snape. "It leads to the Dark Side. Once you start down that path, forever will it dominate your destiny."
"Just fucking teach me, asshole!" shouted Lucius.
"A brazen young twit you are. Too hasty. Sodomize you with a large blunt object Lord Vader will."
"Just teach him, jerkoff," yelled Bellatrix from the sidelines.
Snape scowled. "Very well. Lift that stereo two meters off the floor you must," he said, pointing across the room at Lucius's sound system.
Lucius nodded and pulled out his wand.
"The Force you must use!" snapped Snape.
"Let the Force flow through you, you must. The Force is strong with you. Strong in your family it is."
Lucius sighed and closed his eyes. He reached out toward the stereo and attempted to move it wandlessly. After about a minute, the equipment trembled a bit, but he couldn't make it rise up off the ground. Frustrated, he ceased his efforts and snarled, "I don't believe it can even be done!"
"That is why you fail!" said Snape smugly, pleased that he had managed to remember the exact line from the movie.
"Borrrrinnng!" said Voldemort in an unnecessarily loud voice. "Okay, my turn. I want to do a scene with the Emperor."
Alecto rolled her eyes and followed Voldemort to the center of the room. Snape and Lucius hurried out of the way.
"Ah, Lord Vader," Alecto began with a sigh, "I sense you wish to continue your search for young Skywalker."
Voldemort said nothing, but made loud (and vaguely obscene) breathing noises.
"Er, Lord Vader, have you not felt his presence?"
More loud breathing.
Alecto walked toward Voldemort and said, "Lord Vader! Do you not wish—"
Suddenly, Voldemort rushed forward and grabbed her chest. Alecto squealed in terror and jumped backward. Several of the Death Eaters laughed, but Lucius turned to Snape and whispered, "Uhhh, why is Darth Vader feeling the Emperor up?"
Snape shook his head uncomprehendingly.
"My Lord!" cried Alecto. "What are you doing?! The Emperor is supposed to be a man, and you're—"
"I'm trying to make this fucking game interesting, Alecto!" snarled Voldemort. "Tits are very interesting!"
"We need some Storm Troopers, or something," said Dolohov from beneath his mound of hair.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about them! Send in the Storm Troopers!" exclaimed Voldemort brightly. Then he pointed his wand at a closet door, which opened with a bang. Bizarrely, about 20 Storm Troopers ran out of the closet and into the room.
"What the fuck?!" asked Goyle. "Where the hell did we get Storm Troopers?"
Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Well, they're not really Storm Troopers. They're Inferi in costumes." He turned to look at the Inferi and shouted, "Attack!"
"What?!" exclaimed Snape, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus in unison.
As the Storm Troopers came lumbering toward the Death Eaters, Amycus shouted, "Quickly, we have to get Darth Vader's lightsaber and throw it into the Cracks of Doom!"
"Han Solo," began Bellatrix uncertainly, "we… we need your ship!"
"What?" asked Rabastan.
"DO SOMETHING INTERESTING!!!" screamed Voldemort.
Confused, Rabastan shouted, "Uhh… yeah, hurry! We'll take my ship to Mount Doom! Everyone board the Millennium Falcon!"
"Er… um, no!" countered Lucius. "The… uh… the Storm Troopers are coming! We have to hold them off!"
"Use the Killing Curse!" suggested Bellatrix.
"Jedi don't use Killing Curses," Rodolphus pointed out.
"Oh," she said. "Well, uh… Lucius! Use the Force!"
"You mean, 'Luke, use the force'!" countered Lucius.
"ENTERTAIN ME!" screeched Voldemort impatiently.
The Death Eaters jumped in alarm. "Hurry, Luke, use the Force!" cried Crabbe. "The Storm Troopers are going to force us into… into an evil alien butt-orgy!"
Lucius looked a bit confused – he obviously didn't know how to use the Force.
"Sucks at using the Force Luke does," said Snape sardonically. "Need Obi Wan to save us we do." He glanced over at Rodolphus.
"Uh, right," agreed Rodolphus. "Everyone get behind me! I'll… I'll save you!"
"Oh no!" cried Rabastan sarcastically. "Obi Wan has defected to the Dark Side! He wants us to get behind him because he wants to trap us! He will violate us all with his super homo-lightsaber, which is shaped like a gargantuan dildo with large, realistic veins and pulsing—"
"FUCK YOU, YOU GAY-BASHING PIECE OF SHIT!" screamed Rodolphus. He pointed his wand at his brother and cried, "Incendio!"
Rabastan's robes burst into flame and he began screaming, "I told you, I told you! He's using the Dark Side of the Force! Help!"
"I'll show you 'the Dark Side', you bigoted little brat!"
"Somebody better help him," remarked Dolohov.
"Shut up, Chewbacca!" snapped Lucius. "You're not allowed to talk!"
"Act like a Wookiee!"
"Wha—I…" Dolohov looked around helplessly (which was pointless, since he couldn't see anything through his hair, anyway), then did his best impersonation of Chewbacca: "Gggghhhhhhaaaaa!"
"HELP ME, I'M ON FIRE!" screamed Rabastan.
"Oh my," said Goyle in a sarcastic (but surprisingly accurate) portrayal of C-3PO, "you must help him, R2-D2." Everyone looked over at Wormtail expectantly.
Wormtail looked around in alarm. "Uh… beep beep… whistle… beep…"
"Plug himself into the main computer R2-D2 could," suggested Snape, black eyes glittering. "Produce water from the sprinkler system it might."
"…Beep beep… how? …Whistle…" returned Wormtail awkwardly.
"Stick your finger in a light socket you must," replied Snape.
In a characteristic show of obedience, Wormtail walked over to the wall and shoved his fingernail into a light socket as hard as he could. Snape let out a harsh laugh as the electric current raced through Wormtail, who screamed wildly and slumped to the floor, stinking of charred flesh.
"Hilarious!" laughed Goyle sadistically.
"Hey, what character am I?" asked Crabbe. "I forgot."
"PUT ME OUT, PUT ME OUT, I'M ON FIRE!" bellowed Rabastan desperately.
Lucius pointed his wand at Rabastan and muttered, "Aguamenti!" A stream of water issued from Lucius's wand and extinguished the flames. Rabastan slumped to the floor.
Rodolphus turned on Lucius and shouted, "Why did you help him?! He's a filthy queer-bashing motherfucker! Are you taking his side on the gay issue??"
"What? No, I—"
But before Lucius could finish his sentence, Rodolphus rushed forward and swiped at him with his lightsaber. Lucius was so caught off guard that he barely managed to dodge out of the way in time, and although he managed to save his skin, his hair wasn't as lucky: Rodolphus's lightsaber soared through the air and chopped off about five inches of his gorgeous blond tresses. Stunned, Lucius looked back and forth from Rodolphus to the clump of hair on the ground. Rodolphus also froze – he knew he'd crossed a line.
"You BASTARD!" shrieked Lucius. Then he picked up his own lightsaber and ran toward Rodolphus, who had no choice but to fight back. For two wizards who had never held lightsabers before, they were surprisingly adept at using them. Snape watched with relative disinterest as the battle between Lucius and Rodolphus raged on.
"Hey, stop it! Obi Wan and Luke aren't supposed to fight!" protested Bellatrix. "You're on the same side!"
"Enjoying this pathetic display Bellatrix is," Snape cut in. "Likes playing stupid muggle RPGs she does."
He had to shout to be heard because there was quite a lot of yelling and screaming going on. Voldemort had apparently forgotten that he was supposed to be a bad guy, and he was swiping at the Storm Troopers with his lightsaber. He wasn't very good at it, and Crabbe (who couldn't remember which character he was supposed to be, anyway) was trying to help. Goyle had blown a Storm Trooper's helmet off, and upon seeing that the Inferi beneath the mask was a surprisingly attractive woman (for a corpse, anyway), he had approached her for a little chat. He didn't seem to care that she was drooling and couldn't talk back.
Bellatrix had to raise her voice quite a bit to scream, "Fuck you, Yoda!"
"Fuck Bellatrix with a 10-foot pole Yoda would not," taunted Snape. "Genital herpes she has."
"I do NOT have herpes!"
"Sex with animals Bellatrix likes. Caught the herpes during a filthy revel with a hoard of promiscuous, STD-carrying baboons she did."
"At least I didn't have sex with my mother, Snape!"
"Ah, admits she fucked contaminated baboons. Tacit consent it is."
"No I didn't, you motherfucker! And I mean that LITERALLY! Mother-FUCKER!"
"Seeks to ridicule Yoda because embarrassed about her own sexual activities Bellatrix is. Sexual intercourse with her mother and her father and baboons she had."
"Liked it she did."
"Slimeball! I didn't fuck my parents or any animals! And I certainly don't have an STD!"
"Virulent green discharge Bellatrix has," Snape hissed cruelly. "Rancid and nasty it is."
Furious, she launched herself at Snape, knocked him to the ground, and began clawing at his face and pulling on his large Yoda ears.
"Ggggghhhhhhaaaaa!" gargled Dolohov in the background, as if anyone gave a shit whether he was still playing his part.
"Beep… whistle… HELP ME!" cried Wormtail.
"YOU'RE ALL FUCKING IT UP!" bellowed Voldemort when he looked up from his fight against the Storm Troopers.
"PMSing… Darth Vader… is!" Snape quipped awkwardly from beneath Bellatrix.
As Voldemort aimed his wand at Snape, preparing to curse him for his insolence, Amycus yelled, "Hurry – get his lightsaber!" Then he ran forward and snatched it out of the Dark Lord's hand.
"WHAT?!" bellowed Voldemort.
It was chaos – utter madness. Everyone was yelling and screaming at the same time, and it was difficult to determine what was actually happening. Lucius's living room was being demolished (yet again). Bellatrix was straddling Snape and had her hands around his throat as she attempted to strangle him; Snape was pulling her hair and trying to punch her in the gut. Wormtail continued to make feeble beeping and whirring noises in the background. Lucius and Rodolphus were still battling, and Rabastan – undeterred by the fact that, as Han Solo, he wasn't in possession of a lightsaber – had joined in as best he could and was furiously smacking at Rodolphus with Lucius's cane. Dolohov was running around blindly, making loud Chewbacca noises with no apparent purpose in mind. Crabbe was cursing at the Inferi, who had tied him to a chair and seemed determined, for no discernible reason, to braid his pubes. Goyle had lured one of the female Inferi over to the side of the room; he had her bent over a chair, and he clearly intended to take advantage of her "compromised" (a.k.a. deceased) state. Alecto stood near him, shrieking about what a sexist bastard he was for taking advantage of a defenseless dead woman and threatening to turn him in to the Ministry for unlawful corpse-rape. Amycus was frantically searching for Mount Doom, and Voldemort was chasing him around the room, aiming curses at him and trying to regain his lightsaber.
In short, it was an awful mess.
Distracted by Voldemort's furious screaming, Bellatrix glanced up briefly, which gave Snape an opportunity to punch her in the face as hard as he could. She fell backwards and toppled off him. He climbed to his feet and looked around in awe – the room had descended into chaos the likes of which he'd never imagined. As he stared at his surroundings, he saw Lucius pull out his wand and blast Rodolphus across the room. Rabastan immediately ran over to where his brother had fallen and continued his assault on the unconscious wizard.
"Lucius!" yelled Snape. "Do something!"
Lucius looked around the room desperately. "Do WHAT?"
"Anything! Use the fucking FORCE for all I care!"
Lucius glared at him for a moment, but then nodded. "Follow me!"
Snape hurried to join him as Lucius ran toward the parlor. He reached the front door and pulled on the handle, but it wouldn't open. Voldemort had apparently locked everyone in the house.
"Stand back!" cried Lucius.
Then he pointed his wand at the door and blasted it off its hinges. He rushed out into the night with Snape close on his heels. They ran as fast as they could for several minutes before Snape finally came to a halt. He stood there, panting heavily and covered in sweat. "Lu-Lucius," he huffed. "Don't… you think… you should go… stop them? They'll wreck… your whole house!"
"Too late to prevent that," said Lucius bitterly. "Cissy is going to kill me."
Snape looked back in the direction of the Manor. He could still hear screaming and fighting. He shook his head in disbelief. "That has got to be the worst idea the Dark Lord has ever come up with."
"What about the time he made us all sing Christmas carols for the sick kids in the hospital? That was awful – one of the kids yelled, 'You suck,' and the Dark Lord made a tentacle grow out of the kid's ear. Remember you and I got arrested? The Ministry was so pissed—"
"This was worse!" insisted Snape.
"Oh. Well… you want to go grab a drink in Hogsmeade?" asked Lucius. "I could use one."
"Fuck no! Are you insane? I'm going home! I have classes tomorrow!"
"Don't have to be such a bitch about it," muttered Lucius under his breath.
Snape scowled at him and turned away. It had been yet another horrendous evening, and he just wanted to go home and get in bed. Of course, with his luck, a house elf had probably come into the room and vomited on his fucking bed, or something. If anything has defiled my bed, he decided, I'm going to kill myself straightaway. He shook his head despairingly at the thought. Then he walked a few paces, turned on the spot, and was gone.
And if he thought this evening was bad, it was nothing compared to the following evening when he discovered that he'd been walking around Hogwarts and teaching classes with his Yoda ears all day long. Predictably, no one had bothered to inform him.
1) The idea for the overarching theme of this chapter came from xXblacksakuraXx. She suggested that Voldemort make the Death Eaters watch all six Star Wars movies and then play an RPG. I only made them watch the original trilogy, though, because there would have been wayyyy too many characters involved if they'd watched all of them. Things were confusing enough as it was, so I decided to be lazy. It was also xXblacksakuraXx's idea for Snape to be Yoda. This was an absolutely hysterical idea, and I hate the fact that I didn't do as much with it as I probably could have. As I said, I had a lot of trouble pulling this chapter together. But in all honesty, I can't imagine any of the Death Eaters (as I've written them) managing to contain their tempers long enough to have any meaningful interaction – particularly one that requires as much coordination and cooperation as an RPG.
2) The whole sandwich incident was Inu-midoriko's idea. (Actually, she may have specified a PB&J sandwich, but I was too lazy to write out "peanut butter and jelly." Now that's laziness, huh?) She suggested that Voldemort choke on a sandwich, which would force Snape to have to do the Heimlich maneuver, which would – to everyone else – look like a whole lot of humping. When she told me her idea, I actually laughed out loud! It amused me so much that I figured I might as well drag it out for as long as possible.
Again, thank you all SO much for your wonderful ideas! Like I said, I'll be integrating more of them into the next few chapters. Your ideas will be used! I was just a little lost this time around, and I knew that if I didn't put the chapter out soon, it would never happen. That's part of the reason that I took so many short cuts (e.g., Snape and Lucius just running out of the house at the end, not describing the characters' reactions to the movies while they watched them, etc.). Hopefully, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better next time and do a more thorough job.
If you've stuck with me this long, thank you sooo much for reading! And please give me reviews so I know that I haven't lost you all!