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J. Jonah Jerkson inflicts another sleazy Harry Potter fanfic on the planet

Member Since: Fri Nov 19, 2004
Posts: 140
Subj: The Baroness, Part 52c. When Hughie met Sally
Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2007 at 08:39:03 pm EST (Viewed 406 times)



The Baroness, Part 52c
When Hughie met Sally


[Some time back, Silicone Sally was transported to the mansion of soft core magnate Hughie Pother in Arachknight City. She found that the libidinous publisher was actually a teenaged wizard disguised as an 80-year old lecher. We pick up with Sally, Hughie and Hughie's colleague Hermione in the Casanova Castle’s Very Master Bedroom. Sally and Hermione have found armchairs facing the enormous emperor-size bed on which a lanky, tousled Hughie Pother is sprawled. ]

Silicone Sally Rezilyant: Thanks for the magic save, Hermione. I thought I’d never stop inflating.

Hermione: No problem, Sally. I’m used to Hughie’s busted charms.

Hughie Pother: On the contrary, I’m quite charming [bats his eyes].

Sally: [groans]

Hermione: But your charm-casting sucks, Hughie.

Hughie: I can’t help it if my subconscious only works one way.

Sally: So, you still haven’t explained why I’m here.

Hughie: Well, it all started when we were fighting this extraordinarily evil wizard, What's-His-Name.

Hermione: Volaille-de Mort.

Hughie: I'm the only one who's supposed to say his name!

Sally: “Volaille-de-Mort” -- Chicken-of-Death. What kind of name is that for an evil wizard?

Hughie: It’s no more ridiculous than calling our anachronistic boarding school “Hogparts.”

Sally: It's like naming a supervillain “Elizabeth Sweetwater Dewdrop.”

All three together: And look how well she did.

Hughie: Anyway, we were being chased all over by this prat Volaille-de-Mort when Hermie here had the brainwave to drop into this grotty plumbing shop in Parodiopolis while Ron and I got a tea and pasty at the Slopp-Burger down the street.

Hermione: And never were you in more danger during the entire adventure.

Hughie: Next thing we knew we were on the way to Las Vegas.

Hermione: There was that bit of trouble at airport security.

Sally: Was that where 32 people were shredded because the popcorn machines exploded?

Hermione: How did you know?

Sally: Homeland Security said the popping oil was inported from China. As if.

Hughie: Anyway we got to Las Vegas and prepared ourselves for the final battle.

Hermione: Right. You and Ron went to the Venetian to see David Copperfield and got smashed.

Hughie [sitting up in some dudgeon]: It was brilliant. So what if we made all the cocktail waitresses' dresses billow up in the air?

Hermione: While I went off and actually did something useful by finding Xander again.

Hughie [pouting]: Xander? He's not so great. Lots of vague pronouncements, but he never actually does magic. Sort of like that Wizard of Oz fellow.

Sally: Well, he has saved the Parodyverse a couple of times, or so I've heard. What have you done besides blowing up women's breasts to basketball size, you perv?

Hughie: I was just getting to that! Volaille-de-Mort came after me and tried sneaking into the dressing rooms. As it happened, one of the dancers, a tall busty blonde costumed as a chicken --

Hermione: And of course it was a coincidence that you were in that same dressing room.

Hughie: Anyway, Volaille- de Mort fell for this cow like a ton of bricks or at least for her udders.

Sally: A chicken with breasts?

Hermione [ignoring Sally]: Typical male -- she didn't even need a charm.

Hughie: And he forgot entirely about me for a while.

Hermione: Thus allowlng us to go after his Horecruxes.

Sally: His whats?

Hermione: Well, What's-His-Name liked to dabble in erotic dark magics. And after getting Professor Sluggish drunk, he found out that instead of losing one’s money to a doxy, an able wizard could arrange to lose a bit of his soul in payment. Do that enough times, and one becomes immortal.

Sally [dubiously]: So?

Hughie: After he'd *made* seven Horecruxes, it sort of went to his head. He become this mad evil wizard obsessed with enslaving every attractive woman on the planet -- and then he met Hormonie.

Hermione [raising her wand]: One more word, Pother, and you'll find out what I learned in Advanced Transfiguration. Fancy being a rabbit -- forever?

Hughie: Sorry, *Hermione*. And then he learned that there was a prophecy that he and I were magically linked and that one of us could not, er, um . . . be fulfilled, don't you know, if the other were . . . how does one say it? In the act.

Sally: So every time you boink one of your bimboes here -

Hughie: Right, I give old Voldy a case of blue --

Hermione: [interrupting again] coitus interruptus, as it were.

Hughie: In fact, I really should be getting back to Kimberly now. Wouldn't do to let the old bastard charge up again.

Hermione: [checking a magical hourglass on a Louis XIV table]: You've got about 12 minutes before Chicken Girl can get him going again.

Sally: So let me guess. You became a smut merchant so you could rut non-stop with all the airhead centerfolds to keep the old rooster frustrated and powerless. Hermione is stuck here performing your higher brain functions because the extra testosterone is frying your mind. The baddie and his main squeeze think they're chickens. And, you both think I'm looney enough to take on some magical quest that you two "wizards" are the only ones competent to try.

Hermione: Hughie, I *told* you she was intelligent.

Sally: This is starting to sound like a Visionary story.

Hughie: We thought of him - fake man and all that - but we couldn't be sure he was synthetic.

Muffled voice from off set: I'm real, dammit!

Hughie: So, to cut to the fox hunt, as it were,

Sally: You mean the chase?

Hermione: You already said his mind was fried.

Hughie: Whatever. We need you to destroy the last Horecrux.

Sally: I don't kill. Unless a certain Baro -- never mind.

Hermione: Killing - ordinary killing at least - won't work anyway. And this one's well protected. She's a celebrity.

Hughie: Otherwise, I'd just invite her here and do it myself. [leers]

Sally: Do what?

Hughie: No, do her.

Sally: Do -- oh, no. You want me to get intimate with some C-list celebrity who's an unwitting receptacle for Chicken Creep's evil mojo?

Hughie: Yes. Over and over again. Until she's exorcized by exhaustion.

Sally: Eeew. Why me?

Hermione: Well, it's that evil mojo thing. Once she gets excited, it sort of rots flesh. But you, of course --

Sally: How the hell do you know that it won't turn me into a pile of rubber goo!

Hughie: Horecrux magic doesn't work on inorganics. I'm certain - well, reasonably certain. At least 50:50.

Sally: Nice meeting you. Oh, my, look at the time. Have to run. Byeee. [stretches her leg 15 feet to the door threshold, then suddenly snaps back with a “twang”] Whoops!

Hermione: Sorry about the Entanglement Charm, Sally. But you really must hear us out. Horecrux magic is sex-based. Tied to the flesh. It can't affect you.

Sally [mumbling from somewhere inside her tangle of rubbery limbs]: Sex-based, you said? And I'm *so* celibate.

Hughie: Why, yes, that's an advantage. You're not likely to, er, how d’ya say it? Flag early.

Hermione: He means punk out.

Hughie: That’s right. Remember, you have to exhaust the Horecrux until she can’t, er, well, until the dark mojo stops flowing.

Sally [still tangled]: Eeew. Come on, Hermione, reverse the spell or whatever.

Hermione: Very well. [Produces a wand, waves it and mutters an incantation. There is a “pop” and Sally appears in her chair again, normally dimensioned.]

Sally: Thanks. But I’m still not going after any of your Hore-whatever-they-are’s.

Hughie: But the fate of the entire wizarding world is at stake!

Sally: I’ve just helped save the entire Parodyverse. You wizards can take care of yourselves.

Hermione: Perhaps we can provide an incentive. We could lift all those nasty indictments that are out against you.

Sally: With magic?

Hermione: No, but Hughie can afford lawyers. They’ll plead you out in less than five years.

Sally: I think I’ll stay a fugitive. Anything else?

Hughie: Well, we could change you back to a normal person. After this gig, of course.

Sally: You mean, no more rubber? Bye, bye evil henching? Back to Michigan and my chemistry Ph.D? You’ve got to be kidding!

Hermione: Well, what would get you to work with us?

Sally: One, iron-clad magical protection. Two, ten million euros in my Caymans account. Three, three weeks, all expenses paid, at the Luau-Luxu resort on Maui – with the studs of my choice.

Hughie: Why euros?

Sally: They may be worth something by the end of the year. But I’ll take pounds sterling if that’s all you’ve got.

Hughie: Well, the British edition has been doing well since we started using Cuties with bad teeth.

Sally: Fine. It’s a deal. Now who do I have to boink into insensibility?

Hermione: Oh, she’s not hard to find. Picardy Pikes.

Playing the part of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo

J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People





J. JONAH JERKSON Voice of the People