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Death Buddies: The Dark Lord. The Dark Lord. Yaaaaaaah.
YES! Excellent. The bloodlines of wizard-kind shall be purified. The muddy filth that has latched onto our race will be expunged. And standing upon the precipice, as a shining example of power and might. Will be…me! YAAAH!
Death Buddies: Hahahahahahaha!
Now, my death buddies. Fetch me my broom.
Death Buddies #1: Oh. Um. We don’t need brooms to fly anymore. We just can. My lord.
Good to know. For this information you will be rewarded. With a show of affection. From me.
After that embarrasing scene with DB#1
Everyone leave.
Death Buddy #1: Yep.
You. Stay. (Points to Xavia)
After “You. Stay.”
You still wish to go on your special excursion?
Xavia Jones: Yes my lord.
You will remain unseen. You will kill anyone who gets in your way.
Xavia Jones: I will, my lord.
And if the girl should refuse…
Xavia Jones: I know what I must do, my lord.
Yesss. Welcome back…Mrs. Jones. YAH!
Scene that shoots the play back to 1981 has just happened.
Xavia walks up to me, taps me on the shoulder
Yes?
Xavia Jones: Let me join your evil army? Pleeeeaasssse?
Fiiine. Yaaah!
‘80s Zach Smith: WOAAH! That lady is EVIIIL! AND THAT’S WHAT WE SHOULD ALL THINK ABOUT HER.
Great! Now, I’m off to kill a baby!
All Puffs grab their heads at the sound of feedback, or a megaphone’s siren. I appear. Speaking into a microphone.
Is this thing on? Your efforts are futile. I do not want to kill you. Give me potter. And you shall be rewarded. You have until Midnight…night…night…night.
With the megaphone, I turn to the audience.
That went well, I think. Hmm, So, we’ve got until midnight. Anyone bring any board games? Or snacks. What do you mean I’m still talking into the megaphone? What? Oh! Bring me Harry…Harry. Harry…Okay. The megaphone is now definitely off.
After, “that went well”
I have many options, but here’s #8,
I’m going to ask an uncomfortable question right now. I ask for an honest response. Where are my shoes? I’ve been back for three years, and three years-barefooted. No one has offered me a pair of sneakers, or some lounge loafers. Wingtips. At first, I thought oh-maybe this is the fashion-but quickly learned-no-that’s not it. One year later and my little pigges are still out for all to see-became the principle of the matter-I’m the Dark Lord. Surely someone will offer me some shoes. Or at least ask if I’m comfortable. But now: we are in the woods. We’ve spent a whole evening outdoors. My feet are wet-I’ve stepped on several pointy rocks-I may need a tetanus shot. So, no. I am not comfortable So where are my-what? The megaphone is still on? Really? Oh my. I am just having a day, aren’t I? YAH! Harry!
Harry: Expellidermis!
Nooo.