Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. They are NOT
mine! No they are not, so don't sue, please!
A/N: This is my first fanfic so if there are any problems, please tell me in a review. Also this is something I'm doing cause I'm bored so currently it is absolute nonsense and has no plot. This is a humor story made for your enjoyment, so the characters are a little out of character. Flames (hopefully) won't be necessary but constructive criticism would be much more appreciated.
~UNPREDICTABLE~
Chapter one: Dinnertime at Voldemort's
Lord Voldemort, most feared dark lord in the wizarding world sat down to dinner. "Aw, spinach again? Can't you deatheaters cook anything other than spinach?" He shouted into the darkness of the kitchen behind him.
"Y-yes my lord," a nervous voice stuttered. A small bony figure came out the kitchen. "I-I c-could make chicken p-potpie."
"Well then, MAKE IT!" Voldemort bellowed.
The figure scurried back into the kitchen. He tripped many times over his shoelaces.
Voldemort sat on the edge of his chair twiddling his thumbs. 'Hmm what should I think about?' He wondered while waiting for his stupid deatheaters to make his chicken potpie. 'Ah, I know! I should really start thinking of how I am going to defeat that annoying boy: Harry Potter. Hmm should I chase him out of town with an angry mob of floating torches? Nah. I should roast him and then dare one of my knuckleheaded deatheaters to eat him. Nah, too disgusting and I highly detest cannibals. So how should I kill Him?'
His thoughts were interrupted by one of his deatheaters. "Er. sir? Y- your potpie b-burned s-so it w-will be t-ten more m-minutes."
"Grrr! You interrupted my thoughts. That makes me mad! Grr!" Voldemort bellowed. "I have no further use of your pathetic interruptions. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Before the poor deatheater could open his mouth, He was struck by the deadly green light that emerged from his master's wand. He flopped dead on the floor.
"Next time," Voldemort practically laughed. "Don't interrupt me unless it's good news!" 'Now back to thinking.' Voldemort once more was absorbed in his planning.
Before he knew it, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the delicious smell of chicken potpie wafting through the air. "Mmmmm, that's good." He murmured.
Another one of his many kitchen deatheaters scurried in carrying a platter. He gently set it on the table in front of Voldemort. Then without word, he scurried back into the shadows of the kitchen.
As Lord Voldemort dug in to his dinner a thought came into his mind. It was the best plan that he could currently think of. Always better than no plan.
Harry Potter is going die under the powers of Lord Voldemort. Muahahahahahaha! *cough cough (Choke from laughing)
A/N: So how do you like my first chapter? Please tell me in a review! Give me any ideas, I'll be happy to put them in my story.
A/N: This is my first fanfic so if there are any problems, please tell me in a review. Also this is something I'm doing cause I'm bored so currently it is absolute nonsense and has no plot. This is a humor story made for your enjoyment, so the characters are a little out of character. Flames (hopefully) won't be necessary but constructive criticism would be much more appreciated.
~UNPREDICTABLE~
Chapter one: Dinnertime at Voldemort's
Lord Voldemort, most feared dark lord in the wizarding world sat down to dinner. "Aw, spinach again? Can't you deatheaters cook anything other than spinach?" He shouted into the darkness of the kitchen behind him.
"Y-yes my lord," a nervous voice stuttered. A small bony figure came out the kitchen. "I-I c-could make chicken p-potpie."
"Well then, MAKE IT!" Voldemort bellowed.
The figure scurried back into the kitchen. He tripped many times over his shoelaces.
Voldemort sat on the edge of his chair twiddling his thumbs. 'Hmm what should I think about?' He wondered while waiting for his stupid deatheaters to make his chicken potpie. 'Ah, I know! I should really start thinking of how I am going to defeat that annoying boy: Harry Potter. Hmm should I chase him out of town with an angry mob of floating torches? Nah. I should roast him and then dare one of my knuckleheaded deatheaters to eat him. Nah, too disgusting and I highly detest cannibals. So how should I kill Him?'
His thoughts were interrupted by one of his deatheaters. "Er. sir? Y- your potpie b-burned s-so it w-will be t-ten more m-minutes."
"Grrr! You interrupted my thoughts. That makes me mad! Grr!" Voldemort bellowed. "I have no further use of your pathetic interruptions. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Before the poor deatheater could open his mouth, He was struck by the deadly green light that emerged from his master's wand. He flopped dead on the floor.
"Next time," Voldemort practically laughed. "Don't interrupt me unless it's good news!" 'Now back to thinking.' Voldemort once more was absorbed in his planning.
Before he knew it, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the delicious smell of chicken potpie wafting through the air. "Mmmmm, that's good." He murmured.
Another one of his many kitchen deatheaters scurried in carrying a platter. He gently set it on the table in front of Voldemort. Then without word, he scurried back into the shadows of the kitchen.
As Lord Voldemort dug in to his dinner a thought came into his mind. It was the best plan that he could currently think of. Always better than no plan.
Harry Potter is going die under the powers of Lord Voldemort. Muahahahahahaha! *cough cough (Choke from laughing)
A/N: So how do you like my first chapter? Please tell me in a review! Give me any ideas, I'll be happy to put them in my story.