Expecto Patronum a la Voldemort

“Dark Lord! We are in dire need of your assistance!”, Peter Pettigrew begs after bursting his way through the tall oak doors of Voldemort's personal chambers.

With a chilling calmness, Voldemort eyes his pitifully useless henchman who is now kneeling on all fours and dripping nasal fluids all over his specially polished Elv-wood floors. I will punish him later for this insolence, he thinks to himself. With a sigh of contempt, Voldemort addresses Pettigrew, “What, may I ask, is in such urgent need of my assistance. Oh, I know you are plenty useless, but what, may I also ask, is far beyond the reach of both Bellatrix, Greyback, and Lucius's capabilities that they would need to send a blundering idiot into my chambers to disturb my rest? Might I remind you to answer wisely, because my wand now itches to perform a Cruciatus spell on a certain dimwit.”

Pettigrew recoils in fear and now contemplates which of the two terrible fates out-weigh the other; Voldemort's wrath, or the impending doom waiting just outside the room. Just in time to break the tense silence, the other three death eaters (Bellatrix, Greyback, and Lucius) also stagger into the room. “Thank the darkness! You are awake!”

Voldemort rolls his eyes, “What is it?”

“Well, we were rounding up the Dementors for our next attack on Hogwarts, and for no reason that we can explain, they just… they just turned on us! There's just too many of them. Most of our death eaters are incapacitated now. No one was able to create a Patronus spell powerful enough to cast them away, which is why we need you master!” Bellatrix explains as she stares at Voldemort with a gleam of hope in her eyes.

Voldemort's eyes go wide, “Uhhh… You need a Patronus?… My Patronus? Lucius, are you sure your Patronus wasn't strong enough to control them? What is yours, a lion? That's nice and strong, you take care of it!”

“Your mightiness, my Patronus, although a lion, was not able to overcome them. Please, we need you to perform the spell!”, Lucius pleads.

Voldemort turns his back to the four of them, “I.. I don't feel like it right now. You see, I recently hurt my back… and… I have… I have… umm…. Plantar Fasciitis! Yes! That's it… My fascia is killing me.. and any good wizard knows you need a nice healthy fascia to perform… that… particular spell.”

The four of them glance back and fourth at each other, Bellatrix steps forward, “My lord, your modesty humbles us. We're all sure, even with your injured… fascia… your Patronus will be plenty powerful to take care of the matter!”

“Damnit! Are you all hard of hearing!?” Voldemort says while stomping his feet, “What don't the four of you idiots understand?! I don't want to do a Patronus! I won't do a Patronus! I don't care what my Patronus implies!” he freezes.

“Implies? What are you talking about Lord?” Lucius asks.

“Well, you know… It's… You see… the thing is…Uhh.. Webster's dictionary defines the word 'pha..' ”

Voldemort is cut off as the room suddenly plunges into a suffocating darkness. The temperature also plummets as nearly a dozen Dementors suddenly burst into the room. The four death eaters scream in terror as the death kiss is given to the each of them, one by one. Bellatrix let's out a plea, “Dark Lord! A Patronus!”

Under normal circumstances, Voldemort would just allow the four of them to be taken by the life ending kiss of death; however, even the dark lord himself, with the little soul he had in his body, could not withstand the terrible destruction of the Dementor's kiss. He had no choice. It had to be done.


From the tip of his Phoenix feathered wand, a spectacular silver light emerges and begins to take form. The Patronus, complete and full bodied, makes it's way around the room and dissipates each of the Dementor's dark effects. Although an emotionless entity, each Dementor is expelled from the room as if it were writhing in great pain. The Patronus is really just as powerful as predicted… aside from its rather “unusual” form.

The four of them ignore the blood that has begun to spill from each of their eyes and ears, all they could do is stare quizzically at their master.

Voldemort hesitantly stares back but states firmly, “Any smart remark from any of you and you'll all wish it was your last.”

“Oh, no. Noooo… We are just in awe of your performance, and the… form that your Patronus took… Nothing odd at all about… thaaat. What was it again? A Basilisk snake?” Lucius says trying to relieve the awkward tension.

Greyback chimes in, “No you moron! That was no snake! Not from the great Voldemort! That was clearly a dragon! A great… wingless… one eyed….. veiny…. dragon. A glorious dragon!”

“SILENCE!” Voldemort erupts, “It was no damn snake! It wasn't a freaking wingless dragon! You know what it is! I know what it is! We all know what it is! So I'll just say it!….. It's a giant flying penis! Okay?! Happy now?! My patronus spell takes on the form of a GIANT FLYING PENIS!”

“Not that there's anything wrong with it…” Bellatrix adds in, “Perhaps it took that form because you are so passionate about the battle with Dumbledore and…”

“Oh shut up! It's been that way since I was 15 years old and called Tom Riddle! So what?! It doesn't mean anything!”

“Of course it doesn't mean anything! I mean… Like mine for example… It's a panther… What does that mean? So what if all of my victims called me the “dark panther”?… or the fact that I have a panther tattoo on my lower hip….. or that for a partial time in my childhood… I was raised by panthers… it means nothing!” Beatrix says as the others nod their heads in agreement, “Perhaps it's the choice of 'happy thoughts' you think of to conjure up the spell.”

Lucius throws his hands in the air, “Of course! That must be it! Just a miscommunication from your thoughts to the wand! What is it that you think of master? Maybe we can help tweak it!”

“IT'S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS! Uh, I mean,” Voldemort retracts, “Not that I have anything to hide. I think of… umm.. Harry Potter's mother! Yes! Her and her… sweet…. motherly…. umm… Vaginal things”

Greyback nods his head and replies, “Oh, totally! Who hasn't thought of Mrs. Potter's…. Vaginal things. Well, it must be a malfunction in your wand then. But don't you worry master! We will find you a new one! The Elder Wand! Yes! The most powerful wand on earth!”, Greyback looks back at the other three and whispers to them, “Not to mention that it's also 'ribbed' for his pleasure”. The four of the death eaters immediately press their lips together to suppress their laughter.

“I HEARD THAT!”, Voldemort booms, “That's it! Out! All of you out! And next time this happens! I'll leave you all to deal with the Dementors yourselves!” The four of them race out of his chambers and shut the doors behind them.

Finally alone, Voldemort makes his way across the room to his secret cupboard. “Alohomora”, Voldemort says as the locked cupboard door swings open and unveils the large nude oil painting that he had made with his very own hands. “I think of you…… Harry Potter.”, he says to the painting in a low whisper….. and begins to fondle himself.



Hermione rushes over to Harry, “Are you okay Harry?”

“Ya, it's just my damn scar, it's hurting again. It must be Voldemort, he's up to something. I can feel it.”




Bringing Back the “Mama” Jokes: Mama Jokes 2.0

What was not to like about making fun of someone's mother? It was the great equalizer. You can be arguing with anyone, anytime, in any prominent position of authority, and a simple mother joke can cut into their heart like Katniss (an arrow to the heart while participating in the Hunger Games). Of course, the way of the mother joke has dwindled. All the good ones make references to products and characters that are obsolete (i.e. skittles, scratch and sniff stickers, cordless telephones, etc.). Here are some new and relevant mother jokes I have created for your perusal and later use:


1) Your mother's so fat, she inspired Apple to invent the “panoramic” camera mode for the iPhone 5.

2) Your mother smells so bad, when she was blind folded and asked what a room sprayed with 'Febreeze' smelled like, she answered, “the moisture in my fat folds”. When the room was re-sprayed and had other volunteers smell the room, they all answered, “the lingering odour of your mother's fat folds.”

3) Your mother is so fat, she'd personally volunteer herself for the Hunger Games just so she can have an excuse to eat an island full of children.

4) Your Mother's so fat, she has to stop by 2 places for dessert. First: Wendy's for a “Baconator” Second: Cold Stone Creamery, so they can fold a Baconator into an order of vanilla ice cream… on a waffle cone.

5) Your mother's teeth are so disheveled, she looks like Bane from 'the Dark Knight Rises'… (I know what you're thinking, “with the mask?”, no, without the mask, because his face was mangled in prison).

6) There are only two sounds that make a wizard shudder in disgust, the pronunciation of the name “Voldemort”, and the sound of your mother eating a Double Down from KFC.

Okay, that's all I got…. For now… Feel free to write your own in the comment box!


The Magic School Bus

It's another day at Blair Wood Elementary and there's a nervous vibe in the air; partially because mid-term report cards are just around the corner, but mainly, because the students are afraid of going on another field trip that will likely kill them all.

“It's 5 minutes after 9, maybe she's sick today?” Phoebe points out the time to Gregory in hope that she's right, “She's never late, and right now, she's definitely late.”

“Or AM I?”

Startled, the entire class jumps in their seats when they see Ms. Frizzle standing right behind them, as if she were there the entire time. “Good morning Ms. Frizzle,” the class greets her through the teeth of their forced smiles.

“I hope everyone enjoyed yesterdays trip to the Jurassic period!”, she looks at Molly, “What was your favorite part of the trip?”

The question prompts Molly to have a nervous flash back of the day's terrifying events. She tries to contain her shaking as memories of screaming, running, and scrambling for their lives race through her head. Tyrannosaurus to her left, Velocy Raptor to her right, they were running, always running… and of course, what happened to Carlos… oh the humanity…. “CARLOOOOOS!!!”

Molly begins to weep into her hands.

“Oh Molly, it sounds like you didn't quite enjoy yourself. And I believe we all agreed to NEVER mention Carlos ever again. You're not being a debby-downer are you? You know how I feel about debby-downers.” Ms. Frizzle says with a piercing look in her eye.

Molly immediately wipes her tears and throws a smile back on her face, “oh no no Ms. Frizzle! These are tears of…. Tears of joy! Ha ha.” If the students learned anything this year, it was to NOT upset Ms. Frizzle, and nothing upsets Ms. Frizzle more than a lack of enthusiasm.

“Then tell me Molly, if you really had that much fun, what was your favorite part?”

Molly pauses for a moment, “Uhhh…. The screaming?”

Ms. Frizzle glares at Molly in silence for an entire minute, then nods her head in approval, “Very good.” The class exhales in relief.

A smile returns to Ms. Frizzles face, “Now class, we've seen dinosaurs, tornadoes, shrunk ourselves as prey to insect wildlife; the list goes on. But there is one place we haven't yet gone, and if anyone guesses correctly, we might just be in for a treat! I'll give you all a hint, it's the opposite of 'Inner Space' ”

Ralph raises his hand, “Outer Space?”

Ms. Frizzles clasps her hands together, “You're right!”

The entire class glares angrily at Ralph. Mumbles of whispered “shut the fuck up Ralph” echoes through the room. Ralph apologetically shrinks into his seat, but it's too late. Ms. Frizzle has already begun to mumble dark verses of old latin. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and the room begins to go dark as she ceremoniously uses her magic to summon the School Bus.

The entire class trembles in there seats, but this time, Gregory stands up. “No! Nuh uh! Nope! Not gonna happen. I'm not going into space!”

Ms. Frizzle stops her chanting and gives her attention to Gregory, “Now now Gregory, where did our enthusiasm for science go?”

“Okay bitch, first of all, I'm going to say it! It has to be said,” Gregory ignores the fearful looks given from his classmates, “My 'ENTHUSIASM' for science died when I found out that magic exists! Freakin magic! Who cares how the hell 'the water cycle' works if I know a freakin MAGICAL SCHOOL BUS exists! Why aren’t we trying to learn more about the bus?!”

“Oh Gregory, I suggest you..”

“Not done yet bitch!” Gregory cuts her off, “And it's clear to me that you've known and used this magic for quite some time. So when, may I ask, were you going to try and use it to better the world?! Which brings me to my next question! Time Travel obviously exists because I was almost eaten twice by a freakin dinosaur! Why don't we go back in time and give someone the cure for small pox before the outbreak? Why don't we go back and throw some cold water on Hitler's parents before they decide to have sex?!”

Gregory takes a breath… and continues, “And what ever happened to the 'permission note'? It's school policy to get permission from the parents for field trips, ESPECIALLY when the field trip is some crazy ass death adventure! You think Carlos's parents would have signed a permission slip for him to get his di..”

Ralph interrupts, “We're not suppose to talk about what happened to Carl…”

“Shut the fuck up Ralph!”

Throughout Gregory's entire rant, Ms. Frizzle stands in place with an eerie demeanor, that is, until she points her finger at Ralph and yells, “FACTUS PECUS DE FRIGIDUS SANGUIS!”

The transformation was almost instant, and if you weren't paying attention, you'd think he disappeared. But he was there. On the floor. As a lizard.

Ms. Frizzle walks over and picks Gregory up from the floor, “I shall call you…. Liz!”