The Real Story

Ok, first of all, I need to point out that the following parody does contain one or two spoilers for the Harry Potter Books, and the Lord of the Rings books. if you've not read "The Half-Blood Prince" yet, don't read on.

I would also point out that, in case some young kids do a search looking for Harry Potter and land here, this story is M-Rated...Mature Audiences Only. So if your parents find this in your browser history, it's your own fault.

Oh, and if you're the parent of a child reads this, and you feel compelled to send hate mail, or threaten to sue...You should have pulled your lazy fat ass off the couch, and not used the internet as a baby-sitter.

In short, your kids are your responsibility, not mine, so screw you.

So, Dear Reader, here we go:


It’s the Third Annual Fantasy Character’s convention (Held in New Jersey). A convention where characters from popular films and books can meet up and let their hair down.

Gandalf and Dumbledore have been selected to be the doormen this evening.

“Just got it! Brand new!” Said Dumbledore, brandishing his wand. “Oak, Dragon Heart-string, eleven and a half inches. Watch this!” He twirled the wand in the air, and muttered “Budweisercus toolarj-glassesov!”

In front of them two beers appeared. Gandalf took one, and took a large gulp.

“Nice.” He said. “Eleven and a half inches, you say?”

“Yup.” replied Dumbledore. “You don’t have a wand, do you?”

“Nope.” Said Gandalf. “I have one of these.” He pulled out his staff from inside his blinding white robe and struck the end of it on the ground, there was a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder.

“Impressive.” Said Dumbledore, as he put his wand away. “Very…errr, large.” He paused for a moment. “Tell me, do you drive a porche as well?”

“Up yours, Dumbledore.” Said Gandalf. “I’m thousands of years older than you, and can kick your ass without breaking a sweat…remember that. You got killed by a teacher…I fought gigantic trolls and orcs and Uruk-hai, and lived to tell about it.”

“Sorry.” Said Dumbledore. He glanced at an approaching figure. “Oh, here we go.”

A dwarf strutted up. “Hello, guys.” It said in a far too high-pitched voice.

“YOU CANNOT PASS!” Thundered Gandalf, holding his staff high above his head.

“What?” Squeaked the Dwarf. “Gandalf, old pal, it‘s me Gimli!!”

“No it isn't.” Said Gandalf. “And if you are, you’re the fifteenth Gimli who tried to get in today. You and 5 legolas’s, 10 Aragorns, 3 Snapes a Malfoy, 2 Lupins and 3 Galadriels.”

“But you let the Galadriels in!” Squeaked not-Gimli. "I saw you!"

“Yes, we did, because they were hot, and gave us their phone-numbers.” Said Dumbledore. “ As for you, on the other hand: One, you’re about 12. Two, your axe is plastic, and three, you’ve got the worst case of acne I’ve ever seen. Try Comicon or something. This is official characters only!”

“And Elf-like hotties.” Said Gandalf

“Screw you!” Squeaked the troll. “I didn’t want to come in anyway. Your books suck!”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Gandalf saw a little twitch from inside Dumbledore’s robe, and heard him mutter something. However, it seemed to have no effect, as not-Gimli pulled off his Gimli helmet (movie collectables, $55.99) and strutted off.

“Did I hear that right?” Said Gandalf. “Jollystick Glueupicus?”

“Yep.” Said Dumbledore. “Wait until he tries to pee.”

“Ooooh.” Laughed Gandalf. “How long before it wears off?”

“Wears off?” Said Dumbledore. “Probably right after his bladder explodes.”

“Oooh Nasty! Said Gandalf “Ha! Serve him right!”

“Yeah!” Replied Dumbledore. “I hate kids, and I get lumbered running a school full of them. They think they’re hot shit, and that Potter boy is, quite frankly, a turd.”

“You should try hobbits.” Said Gandalf. “Greedy fuckers, eat all the time ‘Show us some fireworks, show us some fireworks’! Bastards. You’d think they’d at least offer me a coffee and a sit down first! No ‘How was your very long trip, Gandalf?’ Just ‘let‘s light a fire so we can eat for the millionth time today, who cares if doing so is like putting up a giant neon sign saying ‘Ring Wraiths Attack Here‘’. I ‘accidentally’ twatted Frodo with my staff once or twice. You should stick Potter‘s wand right up his urethra!”

“Yeah, I’d love to, but that Rowling bitch had to make a a good character. Voldemort has all the fun.”

“I know, but the bad guys always get killed, don’t they?”

“So did I!” Spat Dumbledore, as he finished his beer. “by a sodding teacher! At least when Tolkien did that fake out with your death, you were fighting that bloody great monster. There’s no justice!”

“Nope, there’s not.” Said Gandalf. “I did all the bloody work throughout my entire trilogy, and that shortarse Frodo gets all the credit. Just because Gollum bit off his finger and slipped into the fires of Mount Doom.”

“Well, at least you got a cool name.” Said Dumbledore. “’Gandalf’, has a nice wizardly ring to it. Look what I got stuck with! I mean, what in the blue fuck is ‘Dumbledore’?. Also, you get ‘Minas Tirith’, ‘Rohan’ and ‘Mordor’…good wizardly fantasy place names…and I get stuck with ‘Hogwarts’ and ‘Hogsmeade’…I think Rowling had a Pig fetish.”

Gandalf laughed and drained his beer. “Any chance of another round? Something stronger?”

“Sure.” Said Dumbledore, manipulating his wand. “Rotguticus Blowyertitsoffia!” he proclaimed. Two bottles appeared, both inside brown paper bags.

“Now yer talkin’!” Said Gandalf, taking a swig. In classic comic fashion, steam came out of his ears.

“Anyway, why are we stuck on the door? Aren’t we the powerful wizards that should be inside getting wasted?”

“You’re forgetting.” Said Gandalf. “We’re just the uber-powerful ‘guides’, we're background characters. It’s those young whippersnappers that are the ‘stars’, little shits that they are.”

“Oh yeah.” Said Dumbledore. “Funny that. I’m meant to be the most powerful wizard who ever lived, the only one Voldemort was ever afraid of, and Rowling makes that runt Potter do all the cool fighting. I just turn up at the end and fill in the plot holes, or offer an enigmatic remark.”

“Same here.” Said Gandalf. “I’m officially ‘Gandalf the White’, as powerful as a wizard can be, have my cool staff…but they make that three foot whiney bitch Frodo the hero. Well, at least I got to kick some ass. Stabbed one orc right in the eye. It was cool, his head exploded everywhere. Even Aragorn turned green.”

"Where is Aragorn today?"

"Oh, he's inside. Apparently, he's got the 'hottness' factor that makes him popular."

"Yeah, not very many women have caught on that an engorgment charm can make anything massive."

"Yeah!" Said Gandalf. "Never had any complaints, and once you go Wizard, you never go back!"

“We should be in there.” Said Dumbledore, wistfully. “I hear they have those mini cocktail weenies. I love those.”

“Yeah, and Veela waitresses."

"Veelas?" Said Dumbledore. "Shit! Those babes are the shizzle!"

"Yeah, I know." Said Gandalf. "but it could be worse. At least we’re popular characters. I heard they’ve got Sauron and Voldemort parking cars.”

“Ouch.” Said Dumbledore.

"I know, I mean, they are our mortal enemies, but you've got to have professional courtesy."

“I'd rather spend a week with Voldemort than a second with any of those little shits at my school though." Said Dumbledore. "I really, really hate those young…”


“…bastards!” Said Frodo as he slammed his drink onto the table. “Those old biddies think they run the place! Who was the one who actually threw the ring into Mount Doom? Me!”

(Hello, it’s me, Paulius. Did you see what I did there? Very clever trick, melding together what Gandalf and Frodo where saying…although it would be a lot more impressive if this was a movie rather than text. I could’ve done a cool transition effect and everything. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, what I’m doing now is called ‘breaking the fourth wall’…see wikipedia if you want to know what that means. We now return you to your regularly scheduled story)

“Didn’t you want to keep it for yourself, and then Gollum bit off your finger?” Said Harry Potter.

“Shut it, Potter.” Said Sam. “I’ve read your stories, all you’ve ever done was break rules, act like a tit, and manage to scrape a win through with sheer luck. Oh, what a surprise! You won the Quidditch cup again! Poncing around on a broomstick. I had to fight a blood big spider!”

“Whatever.” Said Potter, as he finished his drink. “Oi!” he shouted to a passing waitress. “Another round over here.”

The waitress, a female adventurer type, dressed in what looked like a bikini made from a square inch of leather, with one huge metal shoulder pad, nodded and headed to the bar.

“God I’d like to get me some of that.” Said Frodo. “Where are they from?”

“Some other fantasy series I think. Too bad they’re not in ours.” Said Sam.

“I brought along the Veela girls.” Said Harry, pointing to a few blonde images of perfect hottness. “Don’t get them mad, though. Turn into ugly bird things.”

“I thought that only happened to hotties after you married them?” Quipped Frodo.

Harry laughed. “I know, that's what usually happens."

He paused, suddenly looking very serious.

"However, the exception to that rule is the wife of a friend of mine, named Paulius. His wife is an angel, an angel, you hear? And she would definitely not garrotte him with his own socks for a joke like that...and certainly wouldn't think to punish him or exact any type of revenge whatsoever. Even her best friend Lois, who has an excellent sense of humour, would understand that a joke like that is meant in fun, and would not email him about it, or comment on it in any way... except to congratualte him on an excellent joke.” he said.

"Very true." Said Frodo.

“Anyway. the amount of shit we have to go through, you’d think those old bastards would pull their fingers out and actually do something.” Continued Harry.

“I know.” Said Frodo. “They said to me ’Take this ring to Mordor’…so obviously I’m thinking, jump on a horse, quick ride into the country, chuck the ring into Mount Doom, home by Dinnertime.”

“Yeah!” Said Sam

“They never mentioned fighting all those orcs, putting up with Gollum, slowly going mad because of the One Ring, and getting attacked by a giant spider.” Said Frodo. “I mean, who calls a mountain ‘Mount Doom’ anyway. Sounds like someone’s trying to hard.”

“If you think about it,” said Sam, “If they called it ‘Mount FluffyBunny’ it’s give them more of an advantage….lure people there unawares like. ‘Let’s go for a picnic, where looks like a good spot? I know, Mount FluffyBunny. Then they’d be all, ‘Oh no! I never expected there to be lots of evil orcs and stuff on the way there! I left my battleaxe at home! Who thought I’d be fighting a bloody great spider on my way to ‘Mount FluffyBunny’ I just wanted a nice quiet picnic!’”?

“Don’t mention spiders.” Said Harry. “That business I had with Aragog. That fat bastard Hagrid ’follow the spiders’. How did he ever get to teach? That’s just child abuse that is!”

“There should be a law.” Said Sam. “Something like ‘When tricking an inexperienced and massively outmatched naïve young adventurer into doing something outrageously difficult and dangerous, you must mention if the quest involves giant spiders.”

“Yeah.” Said Harry. “I beat the living shit out of Hagrid for that. Made sure it was left out of the book though.”

“Your drinks, sirs.” Said the scantily clad waitress, who appeared like a vision.

“MY PRECIOUS!” Screamed Gollum, jumping out from under the table. He grabbed a large vodka from the waitress’s tray and darted back unto the table.

“You know," Said the waitress, calmly. "if he does that one more time, I’ll kick him in his little Smeagle Balls, the bug eyed freak!”
“Sorry, he’s got a bit of a drinking problem.” Said Sam. "He's coming down off the One Ring"

“Here you go.” Said Harry, pushing a fifty dollar bill into the front of her leather g-string. “For the trouble.”

The waitress turned and walked away.

“And to think.” Said Harry. “The only action I got was Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley in my story. We need some of them. I must call old JK, maybe I can get a band of them to help me find those Horcruxes.”

“That one looks like a bit of a whore-crux herself" Came a voice from under the table "....mmm Precious dulls the pain.”

Sam rolled his eyes and passed a large brandy under the table.

“Precious! Must have my precious! It’s my birthday!” The voice said. There was a sound like a herring being flung against a wall.

“Oi! You nearly took my fingers off.” Shouted Sam. “and it’s not your birthday, you lying fuck!”

“Did you ever have any luck finding a ‘The One Ring Anonymous’ support group for him?”
Asked Harry.

“Nope.” Said Sam. “There’s not much call for support groups for junkies of 'Ring-Based Ultimate Power.”

“Pity.” Said Harry.

There was a few moments of silence, as another scantily clad, and well endowed waitress walked past, a Veela, this time...and she was indeed the shizzle.

“Er, Harry?” Said Frodo.

“Yeah?”

“You know that Imperious curse, the one where you can get someone to do anything you want.”

“Uh-Huh.”

“And that other one…Errr, ‘obliviate’, the one that erases someone’s memory?”

“Yeah?”

“You can do them, right?”

“Of course.”

“Would it work on those waitresses?”

Harry pondered for a moment.

“My hotel room, 15 minutes.”