Muggle Coffee Shop Musings

Disclaimer: I don't own. These characters belong to J.K. Rowling and Waner Bros. I'm just "borrowing" a few characters to make a story. I also do not own Grunnings or Weight Watchers.

Dedicated to a friend who loves this book as much as I do.

Sorry this fic is unbeta'd so a few spelling and grammar errors may be found. This is my first actual story on this site and first attempt at humour


Drat these squalid places, most of the time I would not be caught dead in a doughnut shop, let alone one across from Grunnings. What the heck is that, some company that does a bunch of mundane muggle tasks?

Speaking of the mundane, that describes my off-kilter appearance right now. I've slept for a grand total of 10 hours this week. Hence the dark circles under my eyes. Not to mention the fact that my hair strands are out of place, and I'm wearing a hoody and a pair of worn out blue jeans. People better not ask if I died last Friday; but they probably will anyway.

Suddenly, a bell clanged breaking me out of my thoughts. With it, a morbidly obese pig waddled in with what appeared to be a toupee attached to the end of his nose. For some unfathomable reason he actually squeezed though the door! It's amazing the fact that I have resisted the urge to projectile vomit all over those cheap pleather shoes of his. It's not just the shoes, though; the entire wardrobe was revolting! The gray-blue suit jacket was way too tight. The buttons looked like they could hit you faster than one of the Dark Lord's Killing Curses. Those pants were another matter. They were probably size XXXXXXLLL made out of some polyester that went out of fashion in the 70s. I shake my head and turn back to my coffee.

"Hi, may I take your order Vernon?" The old lady's voice sounds over the tinny speaker system.

"The usual, Elsie." He replied, all five chins on his piggy face quivering. Almost robotically, she stuffed 2 -dozen doughnuts into a box. By looking at the size of them, they probably contained enough saturated fat to cause an instant heart attack. Not to mention enough sugar to create all the ethanol necessary to put a halt to the muggles' stupid fuel crisis.

Honestly, has the guy ever heard of Weight Watchers? (Some muggle organization that I've heard about in passing) Judging his appearance I'd say not.

He stuffed a few pound notes into the lady's hand, and sat down with his doughnuts at the table right across from mine. Oh crap. I don't want to be within five miles of that pork chop.

"My secretary hasn't filed the papers yet so I won't be able to get the drill orders processed until Friday…" pigheaded Vernon or whatever his name was announced to nobody in particular. As he began his monologue, I can officially state that Binns' classes were interesting. This guy droned on like a vacuum cleaner hooked up to amplifiers!

That was the last straw. I brushed my blonde hair out of my face, left the coffee shop, and sauntered down to my black Mercedes Benz.

Now if only I could perform a Bat Bogey Hex on that fat ball…

The End

AN: What do you think, love it? hate it? Review! (No flames please)