Draco tries to get out of transferring with a chicken stunt
"I have not been more humiliated in my entire life!" Draco thundered as he, Vince and Greg walked down the dungeon steps to the Slytherin common room. "Well, other than that one time I auditioned for the school play and landed the French maid part. But I cannot believe this! It's an outrage!"
"Jeez, calm down, man," Vince said. "We'll conquer that new school in a heart beat. Show them what Hogwarts punks are made of."
"PotterIsAnUglyGit." Greg supplied the latest password, and they climbed into the common room.
"Hey, Draco!" Pansy Parkinson called from the back. "It's too bad you'll be gone. What school are you going to?"
"Callihorn High School," Draco said dully. "And guess what the best part is? It's a MUGGLE school."
"You're serious?" Pansy's mouth turned into the shape of a K. "How did they ever agree to trade foreign exchange students with Hogwarts?"
"I suppose old Dumb put them in a trance," Draco said bitterly.
"Well, that's too bad," Pansy said sympathetically. She took a few steps forward and extended her arms. "Want a hug?"
"Ewww!" Draco was out of the common room in a heartbeat. He didn't stop running until he was in his dorm room, and the hair he had so careful dipped in vinegar oil that morning and slicked now turned into a big puffy yellow afro on his head. Vince and Greg entered, their jaws dropping as they spotted his ridiculous hairdo.
"Well..." Greg said, trying not to look disturbed. "We should made our beds clean for the foreign exchange students that'll take our place."
"No!" Draco suddenly spoke. He jumped up from the bed, and a defiant look came into his eyes. "We can't just let old Dumb and the rest of the not-Snape teachers run our lives. We are going to go on strike."
"Yeah!" his cronies rumbled.
"We are going to make picket signs!"
"Yeah!"
"We are going to make protest speeches!"
"Yeah yeah!"
"We are going to make cupcakes to raise money for our strike!"
"Not yeah." Vince pouted. "My mum stopped trying to teach me to bake. She said I was too obsessed with molding the dough into heart shapes."
"Well...maybe not cupcakes," Draco said quickly. He stroked his chin, and the other two followed suit. "I've got it! We're going to...do something else!"
"Yeah?"
"I've got something that will totally work," Draco said, his face shining with the pleasure of evil-plotting. "We are going to send Potter and his friends to Callihorn instead."
"But how will we ever come to achieve that?" Greg asked.
"We'll try..." Draco's eyes glistened. "The chicken stunt."
***
"Drake, are you sure this is going to work?" Vince asked.
"Yes, I'm positive," Draco said impatiently. "And don't call me Drake! I've had enough cutesy names from my mother. There's so many that they actually made a list of the top ten cute names on mugglenet.com."
"But that number one wasn't cute," Greg pointed out.
"Greg, how many times have I told you to stop wasting your time browsing tedious muggle websites?" Draco said.
They were kneeling behind the statue of a griffin, which was situated in the entrance to the Great Hall. Greg had a barred cage by his side.
"Everyone know the plan?" Draco asked.
"Actually, no," Greg said. "You never mentioned the plan to us, Draco."
"So now I will," Draco snapped. "In this cage are about a million chickens."
"Ooh! Are we going to barbecue them?" Vince exclaimed.
"No! And keep your voice down," Draco snapped. "When Potter, Weasley and Granger come to the Great Hall, we'll release the chickens, they'll cause a diversion, and when the three stooges are trying to get the chicken off, we'll clip a few of their hairs and make it into a polyjuice potion so we can turn into them."
"Draco, as a friend, I must say that's really lame," Greg said. "Wouldn't it be much simpler if we just let three chocolate cakes float in midair, have them gobble them up, pass out, and then we'll clip their hairs?"
"SHUT UP!" Draco screeched. "For the last time, anyone who interrupts will be turned into a chicken!"
"There they come!" Vince said.
Indeed; Potter, Granger and Weasley walked into the entrance.
"On your mark...get set...go!" Draco hissed under his breath.
Nothing happened. The three Gryffindors turned into the Great Hall.
"What the heck?" Draco turned around. Greg and Vince were both crouched at the cage, and they seemed to be talking to the chickens.
"You two dunce-brains!" It took all of Draco's strength and integrity to keep his voice at a whisper. "Why didn't you release the chickens when I told you to?"
The two paid no attention to him. Instead, they were in heated conversations with the chickens.
Vince: yeah, so after he dumped you, he got together with Madeline, but Madeline was already with Louis, but Louis is after you?
Greg: good gracious, that is truly fascinating! Simply marvelous! I had NO idea that chickens were such skillful and intelligent politicians, engineers, and the ones who discovered Uranium?
"Grr!" Draco wanted to tear their thick heads off. So the chicken stunt had failed; maybe he should just become a country singer and have a tea party with the cast of Baywatch. Or he could set up a new plan... "I'm not out of ideas yet," Draco said to himself as he got up and walked away from his chicken-obsessed best friends.