Well, well, well…. it's been two whole months since last I posted. I think it's high time for a sequel to "Tonks' Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day," wouldn't you agree? Well, here you go, mon choux. Harry Potter is copyright Warner Bros. and Scholastic.
Hell is one place you'd expect to find the world's greatest mass murderers: Vlad the Impaler, Jack the Ripper, the Zodiac Killer, Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin, Saddam Hussein, Sweeney Todd, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. Together, this elite group of killers was known as the Murderer's Club of Hell. At club meetings, the coven of murderers sat around a large fireproof table shaped like a pentagram. Satan himself sat in the middle of the table, on a giant flaming throne. Together, they would discuss such murderous topics as how to properly decapitate the prime minister, if blunt objects are better weapons than sharp ones, arson, the upcoming midterm elections, and whether Snooki would be mushing with The Situation or Pauly D on this week's episode of Jersey Shore.
Suddenly, in a burst of fire and brimstone, the new member of the Murderer's Club of Hell Apparated into the chamber.
"Sorry I'm late, my Prince of Darkness," said Nymphadora Tonks, bowing.
Tonks, hair the color and appearance of a blazing wildfire, had made it to this very special circle of hell by killing Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, her very own fiancee Remus Lupin, and herself in one day. she had a particularly wicked grin upon her face. Dusting herself off, she strode to the pentagram table, pulled up a brimstone chair, and sat crosslegged. She glanced around. Hitler and Stalin were grooming their mustaches. Voldemort and Bellatrix were making out. Jack the Ripper was reading porn. The Zodiac Killer was drawing pentagram after pentagram on a large slate with a piece of red chalk. Sweeney Todd was singing "Finishing The Hat" from "Sunday in the Park with George." Saddam Hussein was watching a clip of Achmed the Dead Terrorist on YouTube.
"Today must be Casual Friday," muttered Tonks. She pulled a large whiteboard and some Expo markers out of her satchel. "Who wants to play Hangman?" she asked. All the members of the Club perked up at the mention of Hangman.
"That sounds like a fine idea, my dear," hissed Satan, his tail lashing excitedly.
"Oy, a game of 'Angman sounds bloody brilliant to me," said Jack the Ripper, folding up his porno mag and tucking it behind his ear.
The Zodiac Killer smiled, and drew a hangman game on his slate.
"Let's have a prize for the winner," sneered Hitler in his thick German accent. Stalin nodded.
"I say the winner can invite one – and only one – person of their choice to join our circle of Hell," announced Saddam Hussein. "That way, if I win, I can bring Osama Bin Laden into our club!"
"That wouldn't be fair at all," said Bellatrix, "since some of us already have the person they want with them." She looked lovingly into Lord Voldemort's eyes, and kissed him hard. Voldemort shuddered with delight.
"I say the winner should be named King or Queen of Hell!" said a voice coming from the flaming sky above the club. Someone was joining the game. Someone worthy of this company…