"What the hell is this, J K Rowling?" Harry growled, bursting through the door of the rich author's underwater base and grabbing her by her spiked shoulder-armour and swinging her around to face him. "You screwed up the Canon, woman! Why'd you pair me off with Ginny!"
"Do not incur thy author's wrath, young Potter," said the author. "Thou shalt obey thy creator." She chuckled evilly. "Pairing thee with the Ginny-girl was all part of my nefarious plan."
"Don't you know how many lives you've destroyed with your wicked refusal to write the book they want instead of the book you want? And as for the casting in my movie adaption, It made me sick! You've ruined everything! EVERYTHING!"
Rowling grinned. "I laugh at thy pain, and the pain of thy fandom. Soon, the entire universe shall dance to the tune of the Great Lord Satan, my master. For the Harry Potter books shall turn all to the dark path."
"You'll never succeed!" screamed Harry. "I shall stop thee... I mean you... I'm going to defeat you, and then I'm going to have a pizza and get drunk and party or something. What do you say to that, woman?"
"Thou shalt never have thy pizza, for thou shalt never succeed, Potter," cackled Rowling. "Yet thou canst try. To do so, thou shalt have to find the true author of this work, for it is not I. Do thy worst. Thou hast three days."
"Why three days?"
"Because I am J. K. Rowling, and what I say goes, bitch."
"So shall it be. This is the most important task ever to face mankind, and I shall succeed!" cried Harry as he blasted off in his jetpacks. "Justice is on my side and so is Stephen King."
And then, with the sound of a fish choking on the laugh of an octopus, he vanished into wafer-thin air.