Indeed, her opinion of him was improving by the minute. He made a fire quickly when it would’ve taken her ages, and his stories were extremely funny. She especially liked the one where Magorian had discovered a new color, but her favorite was the one where he was quarantined for RHED (Random Head-Explosion Disease).
They had left together for Australia about three days ago, and every night they made a fire like this, taking turns to act as lookouts. And every night Sinistra enjoyed them more and more. She was seriously reconsidering not coming back to teach at Hogwarts after she led the centaur off; after all, she could use a little more adventure in her life. However, she was loyal to Dumbledore, so she guessed she’d have to return after she’d done her duty. It couldn’t hurt to have a little fun, though.
Sinistra was not without her concerns. How could she possibly make it look like they were actually approaching Australia when they were on an island almost half a world away? (Luckily, Magorian didn’t seem to have noticed this.) What would she do if Magorian asked her why she was here in England in the first place or if McGonagall’s Transfiguration spell lifted prematurely?
Then she remembered that this was a humor fic, and that all logic was lost.
So, after a while, they reached their destination: Finland. Er, I mean Australia.
“Wait a second…” said Magorian, spotting the sign that said “Welcome to Finland” with the “Finland” hurriedly crossed out and replaced with “Australia” in a childlike scrawl. He also couldn’t fail to notice the North Sea ships on the piers. “This isn’t Australia ”
“I thought it was abnormally cold And no desert in sight ” exclaimed Sinstra. “Hey you You on the keyboard What are you playing at?”
Who, me?
“Yeah, you!” responded Magorian angrily. “You’re the author! Fix this!”
Um… I kind of can’t.
“What do you mean you can’t? You’re The Savant!” hissed Sinistra, as if she were part snake instead of part horse.
Well, you see… I lost my new sponsor over an argument about the length of squirrel gestation, so I only have enough budget to send you to Finland. Plus, I can’t ever legally buy Spam anymore.
“Why Finland, then? Why not America or Russia or something?”
Because Finland is my new sponsor.
“The entire country of Finland?” asked Sinistra incredulously.
Yep. They’re very nice.
“Couldn’t you just tax the people and use the money to send us to Australia?” said Magorian.
Hmm… The thought never crossed my mind. I suppose so. I need to fix my screensaver. Apparently it’s a portal into my own fic.
So on Magorian and Sinistra went, trekking towards the Land Down Under in order to either find a tribe of female centaurs or get rid of a troublesome centaur sans arousing suspicion, respectively.
At last, they reached a telltale red patch of desert.
“We’re here We’re finally here ” cheered Sinistra. “I don’t know how many more nights with that stupid Cher song stuck in my head I could stand Curse you for telling me it ”
Magorian said, “Hey, you wanted to know it.”
Sinistra changed the subject. “Anyway, I’ve been wondering about something--how did we get here without treading water? Scratch that, how did we even get out of Britain without crossing water?”
“Magic. You can explain anything in a Harry Potter fic with magic. Besides, we should be glad we finally found the place. I’m starting to miss weekly escapades into the heart of the forest I have to eat the legions of chickens I cultivate there.”
Sinistra didn’t know whether to be affronted by, humbled by, impressed by or nonchalant towards that comment. Alas, it didn’t matter, for they were soon cornered by a band of torch-wielding Amish that had been previously been invisible.
“Rahrg!” they half-spat out in unison as they as they tore off their cloaking devices.
Batman had given them some stealth camouflage suits after he realized that he was going to miss Bonanza on the PAX network. He decided to just go home and order some pizza. He figured he might even get the chance to buy some Kentucky Fried Chicken on his way to the parlor. (It was extremely hard for a pizza delivery boy to find the Batcave.) But I digress. The point is that Batman wasn’t at the scene, which may or may not have been because the author decided to take him out of the story.
“What do we do? We’re outnumbered 21 to 1 ” shrieked Sinistra, bothering even in her panic to count the number of assailants now closing in on them.
“Worry not! I have brought a device that may turn the tide in this skirmish! Methinks this is the key!” said Magorian in a surprising bout of eloquence and articulateness. Sinistra was starting to think that crisis just might bring out the best in Magorian.
Until, that is, she saw what Magorian rummaged out of his saddlebag.
“I banish thee, o malevolent devils! Be purged in the light of purity!” raved Magorian as he waved around a rubber ducky.
The Amish stopped and stared, not a little afraid that it would actually happen. However, after a prolonged period of inaction where they just stared at the ducky uneasily and feared the worst, they finally gathered their wits about them and resumed their attack.
“Okay, on to Plan B,” uttered the centaur. The ducky returned to its pouch and Magorian was about to take something else out when Sinistra thought she had a better idea.
“Hold on Why are you attacking us? We did nothing wrong to you!” she appealed as she held her hand up to stop the ever-approaching and hostile townsfolk.
“Nothing wrong to us? You think you did nothing wrong? I’ll tell you what you did wrong You… uh… you… um… a little help here, please…” said Ichabod. He and his brother were at the front of the line.
“You defiled our homes with your reckless and ungodly shenanigans! Your sinful gaiety has ruinated our children’s innocence! You made our elders weep with your utter disregard for the words of the Scriptures! You must be vanquished in the good name of all that is sacred,” said Jebediah with a flourish of his torch and a zealous glint in his eyes.
“Plus, we just like to burn things,” Ichabod said unconstructively.
“But can’t we all just settle this through discussion and compromise? Why must war always trump diplomacy?” rebutted Sinistra.
“Make love, not war,” added Magorian.
The mob quickly pondered this. She does have a point, most of them thought. Isn’t senseless violence reprimanded in the Bible? Then their testosterone reminded them that war was cool.
“Rahrg ” they repeated, disregarding what she said as they charged at a disturbingly frenzied pace, pitchforks held high and chests puffed out. They were now beyond any reason or argument.
“Okay, continuing with Plan B…” said Magorian. He pulled out a pair of shiny purple leotards with great haste and held it out in front of him. Instantly, a shield of repulsiveness radiated from the pants, for the lack of a match between Magorian’s hair color and that of the trousers was so cosmically obvious that it distorted reality.
I’ve really got to stop using that excuse, commented The Savant.
The Amish could not penetrate the barrier that now encased the two centaurs. Indeed, as it grew, it battered them away like a waterfall would a small piece of driftwood that was particularly vulnerable to giant torrents of water. Before long, they were so far away they couldn’t be seen anymore.
So, with that threat out of the way, the travelers continued their journey. When Magorian asked his companion for the direction of her fictitious tribe, she always pointed at a random direction. Eventually, they reached a toothless old man guarding a cave in the middle of the desert that may or may not have been in Scene 24 of a certain movie…
--*--
Oigroig was furious. Again.
Spilled coffee now obscured the newspaper article he had been reading. If you had bought the same paper, you might’ve guessed what had incensed him so much without too much difficulty.
Mystery in Queensland befuddles Australia
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
In a startling occurrence early this morning, a group of no less than forty-two men were found scattered and unconscious all over the Australian Outback. Once revived, they could remember nothing of what happened to them save for a “big, glowing force-field of ugliness” coming at them. The Muggles were doubtless insane, as their ridiculous clothing could attest to, or had been using a metaphor for the Australian Minister of Magic’s suspect political policy.
Muggle police interrogated them and subsequently sent them on a secret night-flight back to their home in Backwater, Massachusetts. Lord knows what they’ll do to explain how more than two score Muggle men apparently Apparated several thousand miles and then just keeled over. It won’t surprise me. I’ve heard them all.
Oigroig had been having a very bad day, and the foiling of his master plan was doing nothing to brighten his day. Slipping on leaking nuclear waste headfirst into a beehive and stumbling blindly into a bear trap that happened to be electrocuted by swinging power cables was quite enough, as was being attacked by bi-polar squirrels attracted to the scent of his charred flesh on the way home immediately afterwards, but this was just too much.
Oigroig tried not to let his anger get the best of him, for he knew evil geniuses made not-so-genius-(but-definitely-evil) choices when enraged. Look what had happened to Voldemort, thought Oigroig.
No, he’d just have to calm down and start thinking of a new plan.
Oigroig decided to read the obituaries before his midnight coffee seeped into the Daily Prophet too badly. The obituaries had always been an upper for him. Quickly he skimmed through them, savoring every premature or undeserved death. Then, he doodled a little dinosaur on his desk. Then, he stood up all night conjuring a new, more sinister plan…
A/N:In compliance with my new pact with Satan- erm, I mean, my new contract- I have to make you all want to go to Finland. Here goes nothing.
Go to Finland. Now.
By the time you get back, I’ll have a new chapter up I hear Helsinki is simply marvelous in the springtime.