Hairy Pinga and How The Prisoner of My Anus Shoved The Sorcerer’s Stones, A Goblin on Fire, and Half a Bloody Pint Up His Bunghole While in the Secret Chamber Passing Deadly Hollows with a Disorderly Phoenix
|Hairy Pinga||Harry Potter|
|Atari Bumbledork||Albus Dumbledore|
|Weaseldick Paisley||Ron Weasly|
|Gingercooch Paisley||Ginny Weasly|
|Hermaphrodites (aka Herpes)||Hermoine Granger|
|Googley Twatfart||Gilderoy Lockhart|
|Dildo Boytoy||Draco Malfoy|
Chapter 5: Groupies
"Hey, who the hell came up with these names?" one shouted.
Bumbledork held up his hands.
"Yeah, those names really suck," another protested.
"Do they now? Then let's hear you come up with four names that adequately describe the snot-nosed, uneducated twits that roam these halls?" Bumbledork fired back.
"Really, Master Bumbledork, I must object." Googley Twatfart stood. "While I agree with some of the names, ‘Asswipes?' Really???"
The headmaster crossed his arms.
"We need to foster a positive environment, where students can achieve something greater than themselves through collaboration and community," said Twatfart.
As he spoke, one of the students flicked a booger in his mouth. The unsuspecting professor choked and gagged, before ultimately swallowing the slimy morsel.
"Oh second thought, it's perfect." Twatfart sat down.
"Anyways, all that's left to do is figure out who goes where. First, we need to identify each of the group's leaders. Dildo Boytoy!" Bumbledork pointed to a kid with bleached blonde hair and a devious scowl. "You and pussy go hand-in-hand, so you will be in charge of Clitorin." He tossed him a slab of wood. "That's right, back in the old clitoris you go."
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Dildo frowned.
"You are to carve the group symbol out of it; whatever you like. Afterwards, we'll staple it to one of the football helmets, and you can wear it around school all day long."
"I'm not wearing this crap!" Boytoy tossed the chunk of wood to the ground. "My dad's going to have you fired!"
"Whatever, you fucking tool. Next, we have Hairy Pinga. Even though he's barely a student, he's already the biggest Dungtwerp I know."
Hairy smiled at Weaseldick as Bumbledork tossed the slab of wood. The block of oak bounced off his head, knocking him out cold.
"Bumbledork?" Hermaphrodites rose. "I think Dungtwerp already needs a new leader. Hairy can't even handle a stick of wood."
The perverse old man scratched his chin. "Very well. In his absence, you may serve as deputy."
"Deputy? Oh, no. Hairy serves me."
"Fine. You and Hairy will square off in a friendly duel. Whoever gets the other to cry mercy will be Dungtwerp's undisputed leader."
Weaseldick helped Hairy to his feet. "Did you hear that, Hairy? You and Herpes are going to face off.
"Huh?" Hairy rubbed his head.
"I wouldn't take her lightly, Hairy. She's one ruthless bitch," Bumbledork warned. "She'll cut off your gizzard, and mount it to the flag pole if you're not careful."
Hermaphrodites glared at Hairy. "You're dead," she mouthed.
"All right. Well that takes care of Clitorin and Dungtwerp. How about Asswipes? Weaseldick Paisley, I called up Wikipedia personally and had your picture permanently added to the section that deals with asswipes. Congratulations, you're their king."
"But I want to be with Hairy," Weaseldick pouted.
"Even if you were a Dungtwerp, you might still get Herpes rather than Hairy. No, I want the Asswipes to fail spectacularly, so I'm putting you in charge. This is one task that you truly cannot fuck up! And any other fucking Paisleys that exist in the universe are hereby summoned to the clan of Asswipes.
"Better to hoard them on a ship, and torpedo it as fast as humanly possible then let these bony bastards walk these halls," Bumbledork gestured. "Better to toss them from a plane, and fertilize the crops with their witless remains than to listen to their relentless, rudimentary rabble. Better to..."
"But sir. I want to be-" Gingercooch raised her hand.
"The king has been crowned! And no, you do not get your own symbol; I simply won't waste the wood on you pecker-headed kids," the old geezer snapped.
"And last, but not least, Mufflestuff. Oh crap, where is she?" Bumbledork scanned the crowd. "Douchebag? Oh, there you are!"
A concatenation of feminine hygiene products scampered down the aisle, and jumped on the old man. It bathed him with its tainted cloth tongue, wagging its tail.
"Douchebag comes compliments of the ladies' bathroom. She's made from 100% recycled parts and is completely biodegradable, unlike some of the sludge that festers here." The headmaster glared at Weaseldick.
"Are you kidding?" said a girl in the crowd. "That canine tampon is supposed to be our leader?"
"Trust me, she's light years ahead of anything that Asswipes can offer."
Gingercooch stuck out her tongue.
"Well, I guess that's it. The rest of you have been randomly assigned to each of these groups; may God have mercy on your souls. To find out which you belong to, go to your homeroom. Welcome back to Fartworks everyone, and as always, the gas always looks greener when it comes out your neighbor's backside," Bumbledork grinned.
The students looked at each other, confused.
"Dismissed, you bungholes!"
As the children scurried out of the hall, Hairy did not move. "What sort of fucked up place is this?" he exclaimed.