Pure Pain

Gollum led Winky disgustingly scrawny hand-by-disgustingly scrawny hand away from the smoldering Hogwarts castle -- which was now less of a castle and more of a pile of crap that even a dung beetle would ignore -- and down a gravel path.

This wasn’t a very wise idea of Gollum seeing as neither he nor Winky wore shoes and stones have a horrid way of poking and tearing apart the feet when they are thus bare. Still, down they walked until Winky’s little House Elf That Lived feet were bloody and peeling. She bemoaned this pain most outwardly through the form of a long, tedious, forbearing song that no one’s bound to read.


‘Oh, ouch!’ cried the little one,
Her feet so bare and red.
‘Might I rest a little while,
So I may clear my head?
A great deal many thoughts brew
From within,’ the tiny creature said
‘And I wish to stop at once!
So I might clear my head!
There is so much darkness nigh,
Unsettled and un-bed,
The destruction of my home,
The death of my fellows:
Dobby and Dancer,
Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid,
Donner and Blixen,
But do you recall the most famous elf of all--


“We’re here,” Gollum interrupted in his usual hissing manner, despite there being nothing in what he had said to be hissable.

The two creatures stopped at the foot of a large wooden door implanted deep inside a grassy hill. It was rather noticeable and surely the most poorly thought-out hide-away. Outside the odd hill-house was a sign reading “4 us., u nott welcumd,” clearly showing that the sign creator -- more than likely a Middle Earthen fan girl -- was not very bright. Winky would have been able to tell this had she not leveled in intelligence with the fan girls. Gollum swung open the round door and ushered the House Elf That Lived quickly inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

Within the dirt hole were odd creatures; a fair amount clearly nonhuman. In fact, the only human-like beings visible in the room was a tall, green woman staring down her crooked nose at her striped-socked feet most longingly, as if she wished for a pair of bright red, sparkling shoes to be resting upon her curled feet.
Then there was a small girl with blindingly pink hair hopping excitedly toward Winky upon amputated stubs, her missing nubs of arms attempting to wave whilst an ugly tie bumped up and down from her chest.

“This is her, this is her! Oh! Nana is most happy, yes, yes!” The girl, whose name was apparently Nana, cried, bringing the rest of the eyes in the room over to the tiny house elf and bulbous-eyed Gollum. “You’ll help Nana, won’t you?” Nana continued, obviously having paused earlier so everyone had the chance to look at Winky. “Nana only wants her Papa back! She will be a good girl, Nana promises--”

“MAKE ME BEAUTIFUL!” cried a duckling with distracting deformities, shoving Nana out of the way in the process with a crooked wing.

“Settle down, settle down!
Let the poor creature through!
Most assuredly is she tired,
and wanting none of you!”
Bellowed a tall man with slicked back hair and broad shoulders. He placed a large hand on the house elf’s tiny shoulder and ushered her through the crowd of misfits and uglies to a very plain settee. He plopped the creature down and took a large step backward, knocking over a wobbly Nana in the process.


“Welcome dear Elf, our Savior, our Queen!
Most delighted are we to meet You,
For to You have finally been seen,
And within our grips at last,
Before the monsters so could win!
In our future (dear I predict) our lives with no sin!
As You, my dear Elf, so humble and . . . unclean,
Has finally come to us, as a Savior and our Queen!”

Winky blinked her large eyes in surprise and glanced at the man with undo confusion. She hardly understood a word he had spoken -- for bad rhymes often have that effect -- and only knew he referred to her as “queen”.

“M-me sir?” The elf stuttered. “Oh, but Winky is no queen! Winky is just a lonely house elf. You must have the wrong elf,” she assured the group, “Dobby is the only noble-blooded elf, sirs! And madams,” she added hastily from the nasty look the green-skinned woman shot her.

“But you indeed must be,
For it is as the Witch foresees!”
The man waved a slender, long, well-sculpted arm back toward the green-skinned woman (who cackled in return). He parted full, vital, cherry, non-chapped lips in order to speak again, only to be silenced by a foreboding wind blowing open the round door in a foreboding manner to forebode the entrance of a crooked little man.

“The elves are coming, the elves are coming!” He cried to the group, running with crooked steps into the un-crooked home.

A startled gasp came and fear struck their hearts. They all rushed outside through the back door after the man, who had given up his poetic nonsense, screamed to the group to get “out the bloody door” in a manner that was all too well choreographed to be spontaneous. Winky was carried outside by the beautiful man whose body had such perfect curves his hands alone felt like Heaven. (Or so Winky would think if she wasn’t a heathen House Elf.)

The backdoor led out to a flat plain and on it, facing the opposite of the creatures, were rows and rows of Elvin warriors, their bodies perfect and lithe, glimmering hair neatly kept up in intricate ways, and a curved, might bow or a strong, glittering sword in hand.
Meaning they were all really, really gay.

“Give us your Queen and we will leave you unharmed!” A shrill voice from within the warriors ordered. Multiple others murmured their agreement in equally high voices, yet it came off as if none of the Elvin men themselves were speaking. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that a strange appendage grew from out each forehead and that is where the voice came from.

“Never!” yelled Nana who, in the duration of hopping outside and listening to the Elves, had sculpted a high-powered machine gun from the tie around her neck and the dirt which stuck to her bloody stumps. She shot dirt clods at them with a wicked laugh, quieting down when the ball bounced harmlessly off their armor. (Which was very shiny.)

“Nooo!” Nana wailed, flinging her small, amputated body and weeping inexplicably for her Papa.

“There’s no other way we can win,” Winky stated quite pessimistically, lowering the group morale even further.

“GIVE UP!” The high-pitched voice screamed again, this time pushing through the crowds and revealing itself in all his erect splendor to be attached to the forehead of a distant cousin of Legolas Greenleaf. “I am the once-known Bladimir, soon-to-be-commanding officer of the fictional world, Georgina Amy Republican Yelnats! Now hand over the house elf or we’ll kill your little freak friend.”

To accompany in explanation the aforementioned “little freak friend”, an elf near the once-known-as-Bladimir held up a cage which featured a little man with orange skin and green hair in a white outfit struggling to get out.

“My oompy loompy baby!” One of the many freaks surrounding Winky cried out. She looked up just in time to see him pull out a thin flute and play a little tune. Thousands of similar looking “little freak friends” popped from the sky.

“Attack and save her! It’s the only female left!”

“Oompa Loompa Doompadee Doo
I’ve got another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa Doompadah Dee
If you are wise you’ll listen to me!
What do you do when a man’s never fat
With nice, slender legs and no hair on his back?
What can you do when you’re not very tall
And walk with a crooked grace from a wicked fall?
YOU RISE UP AND KILL THOSE MOTHA’ FUCKA’S!”
So cried the little Oompa Loompas as they charged up the hill where a loaded arsenal of trained warriors with good looks and skinny, shaven legs awaited them.
----

A screen on the far wall in a simply kawaii cottage atop Mt. Doom flickered on, the horrified face of Bladimir coming into view. “My Lord Voldemort!”

“What have I told you, Georgina Amy Republican Yelnats?” Voldemort growled as he sat in front of his mirror testing out the right eye shadow to go with his complexion. You are to address me by my new name, ‘Mirabelle Annabelle Rhoswen Yvonne-Santana Unique Elon’!”

“My Lord, there is no time for this nonsense! The Battle of Ugly Hill is commencing and going very badly for us! My men have been jacked off--” at this, Voldemort snickered, “--the very foreheads of the Elves! They’re coming back to their senses and attacking, my Lord! We’re losing, even with the reinforcements you’ve provided!”

“What!” Screamed the Dark Lord who was looking considerably less dark with all that facial cleanser on, “Georgina! Hold them off just long enough for me to arrive, I’ll take care of this problem myself!”

"Yes, my Pretty Lord."
----

Winky stood still by the backdoor, watching in horror as the true cruelty of war played out before her. The battlefield was a mess of penises, Elves, and even the occasional Elvin penis (which was very shiny). She watched as her self-proclaimed followers battled against those severely handsomer and win, despite the obvious pretty trait they lacked.

“I have been struck!” The beauty of mankind cried, falling backwards close to Winky’s side. The warrior which had done the deed stood patiently while the man coughed his last, meant-to-be-poetic request to the house elf.

“You must avenge those who have fallen.
Be brave!
Be strong!
You shall succeed, little Queen!”
He then died rather anti-climatically, but his death built something up inside the House Elf That Lived and when she saw Voldemort rush into the scene of battle, she knew exactly what she must do.

Winky charged up the hill, knocking over anyone she came in contact with, her ears flapping from the wind so fast she felt she could fly, and in mere seconds she was in the direct path of the Dark and Pretty Lord. Screeching a sing-song battle cry, Winky jumped into the air and flew straight into Voldemort, giving him a strong hug.

“I love you!” she whispered and Voldemort bent down and picked her up. A moment of silence came as Dark Lord and house elf gazed at one another. The clouds parted and the sunlight shined down in angelic grace around Winky.

“I do too,” he murmured and the two kissed.

So ended the War and so began the married life of Mr. and Mrs. Voldemort Mirabelle Annabelle Rhoswen Yvonne-Santana Unique Elon.

And then they all sat down after a hearty singing of carols and ate the Ugly Duckling for supper because the disgusting creature was fooling itself if it believed it could ever become beautiful and loved.

End
For good.