from Sunrise over Britain 29
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Peeves peered at the bottle in his hand, checking the label. The picture on the label looked interesting.
Weasley Wizarding Wheezes
Flaming Flatulence.
Just 3 Drops in your friends food will make their farts explode!
Exploding poop, me think, Peeves said dubiously.
How?
Says just add three in food, Peeves replied.
Is there three? asked Vex, looking intrigued.
Peeves turned and rooted around in the box, finding two more potion bottles containing the same label.
I have three! he proclaimed loudly.
The five poltergeists grinned and faded from sight. They were off to the Death Eater Kitchen.
Dustin Johan was a dull, small minded man. He was exactly what the Dark Lord looked for in a Death Eater; a follower, not a leader, and in no way an independent thinker. He had just come off a grueling twelve hour training shift and was looking forward to a meal and several hours of uninterrupted sleep.
He spooned some of the stew up and chewed, all the while wondering about the unusual taste. Cooky must be trying something new. It wasn't bad, just a little more spicy than Cooky normally served. He paused when his stomach rumbled ominously. He looked around in relief. No one seemed to have noticed. Then it rumbled again, only louder and more violently.
His arse puckered and a small amount of gas escaped. Gas was a normal occurrence at meals and usually ignored. This time, however, the gas ignited. In pain, Dustin tried to stand. The effort forced a large bubble of gas through his intestines. When it made contact with the air, it ignited and his upward momentum continued with such force, his feet left the floor. He screamed in pain and fear, then smashed into the ceiling.
There was a moment of shocked silence in the cafeteria and all eyes turned towards Dustin, still pinned to the ceiling by the exhaust from his own personal rocket engine. Then, like most rocket mishaps, he exploded, violently.
Cooky stared dumbfounded as, one by one, Death Eaters expelled foul smelling gas and launched themselves into the ceiling in a shower of smoke and flame. The unlucky ones were those trapped by the ceiling. For a lucky few, sitting under the skylights, they were treated to the experience of a lifetime as they lifted into low Earth orbit.
The event in the dining room continued for three more minutes before the building, unable to contain the mix of volatile gases, exploded in a fiery ball. Fifty Death Eaters and the entire kitchen staff were killed in the blast.
From the Astronomy tower, five poltergeists watched and applauded. 'The red headed weasel twins would be so proud!' Peeves thought__________________
The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live. - George Carlin.
___________________________
"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." - George Carlin
***************
Peeves peered at the bottle in his hand, checking the label. The picture on the label looked interesting.
Weasley Wizarding Wheezes
Flaming Flatulence.
Just 3 Drops in your friends food will make their farts explode!
Exploding poop, me think, Peeves said dubiously.
How?
Says just add three in food, Peeves replied.
Is there three? asked Vex, looking intrigued.
Peeves turned and rooted around in the box, finding two more potion bottles containing the same label.
I have three! he proclaimed loudly.
The five poltergeists grinned and faded from sight. They were off to the Death Eater Kitchen.
Dustin Johan was a dull, small minded man. He was exactly what the Dark Lord looked for in a Death Eater; a follower, not a leader, and in no way an independent thinker. He had just come off a grueling twelve hour training shift and was looking forward to a meal and several hours of uninterrupted sleep.
He spooned some of the stew up and chewed, all the while wondering about the unusual taste. Cooky must be trying something new. It wasn't bad, just a little more spicy than Cooky normally served. He paused when his stomach rumbled ominously. He looked around in relief. No one seemed to have noticed. Then it rumbled again, only louder and more violently.
His arse puckered and a small amount of gas escaped. Gas was a normal occurrence at meals and usually ignored. This time, however, the gas ignited. In pain, Dustin tried to stand. The effort forced a large bubble of gas through his intestines. When it made contact with the air, it ignited and his upward momentum continued with such force, his feet left the floor. He screamed in pain and fear, then smashed into the ceiling.
There was a moment of shocked silence in the cafeteria and all eyes turned towards Dustin, still pinned to the ceiling by the exhaust from his own personal rocket engine. Then, like most rocket mishaps, he exploded, violently.
Cooky stared dumbfounded as, one by one, Death Eaters expelled foul smelling gas and launched themselves into the ceiling in a shower of smoke and flame. The unlucky ones were those trapped by the ceiling. For a lucky few, sitting under the skylights, they were treated to the experience of a lifetime as they lifted into low Earth orbit.
The event in the dining room continued for three more minutes before the building, unable to contain the mix of volatile gases, exploded in a fiery ball. Fifty Death Eaters and the entire kitchen staff were killed in the blast.
From the Astronomy tower, five poltergeists watched and applauded. 'The red headed weasel twins would be so proud!' Peeves thought__________________
The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live. - George Carlin.
___________________________
"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." - George Carlin