?

Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Fic post - Squidbillies/Harry Potter

This is just something I need to work through, evidently. Like grief. Or a basket of fresh, hot garlic bread.

Title: Double Truckin' The Tricky Two [2/?]
Author: Stoney
Rating: Not meant for humans and some jellyfish
Fandoms: Squidbillies/HARRY effin' POTTER. You heard me.
Summary: Early's boy Rusty has magic in 'im. Some fancy pants school sends him an acceptance letter. SQUIDS.
Spoilers: Only for Book 6 of Harry Potter, but not like me telling you that Dumbledore died on page 596. It's not a spoiler like that.
A/N: It helps if you know that Squidbillies is an Adult Swim show about a rednecked squid family, with narration. And it helps if you can hear that voice in your head. Or you know... if you don't hear any voices in your head, that's... that's probably better off in the long run. OH MY GOD. Just... CRACK ahead. As in, in my mouth, being exhaled.



Continues from here.

Part Two - Ain't Skeert
~*~


When you live in the mountains of North Georgia with a father that considers education of any sort to be "puttin' on airs," it's likely that your view of the world beyond the pine trees and deer stands is murky at best. Rusty Cuyler had never set foot off his family's mountain, which, coincidentally, was a covered up strip mining dump site, which before that used to be a landfill, and before that served as a nuclear testing site. If we go back further in time, even the native Indians used that particular spot for a dumping ground.

Rusty Cuyler was also a squid, so to say his opportunities in life were limited was an understatement. His father, Early, was working on his truck boat truck - a truck hitched to a souped-up boat, which was in turn hitched to another truck - one afternoon when something flew close overhead.

"Rusty, go get me my shootin' piece."

"You gonna kill something, Daddy? Kill it dead, whoo!"

Rusty loaded the sawed off with two rounds and handed it over. Early aimed and shot true. A hail of bloody feathers rained all over the truck boat truck.

"Aw, hell no. Now I gotta tump the rain barrel over and clean this summbitch again."

A piece of paper floated down among the feathers. Rusty picked it up and saw that it was a part of an envelope. What he could make out under the singe marks was his name and the return address that read only "Hogw-".

"Daddy, I think that bird done had a letter for me."

"Don't be an idjit, birds don't carry letters. Them carrier pigeons is a damned lie."

"All... alright then. You gonna let me drive the truck boat truck?"

"Oh, you's a damned fool if you think...."

But Rusty had been right. It had been a bird with a letter for him, an owl to be exact. A school for witchcraft and wizardry had sent a letter of acceptance to their illustrious campus, located all the way in Scotland. Somehow the boy had magical powers. It could be that the magical quill that recorded the birth of a being with magical powers was wrong in thinking Rusty Cuyler had abilities. It happened every so often. But back in Early's past was a red-haired siren that had called him through space and time. And that siren was a boy that attended that school, was attending that school right now, in fact. This is a story about talking squids and you're going to quibble over chronological time?

Now. Where were we? Oh, right. The squids were cleaning the family's vehicles.

"Don't you even think about layin' a hand on my Truck-O-Lypse, here, or it'll be on like Red Dawn, boy."

"Yessir, Daddy. Daddy, here come another one of them lying letter birds!"

"It's gonna be good eatin' tonight!" But as Early squeezed the trigger, Rusty leaped up and knocked the shotgun out of his daddy's hands, sparing the bird. However, the bullet shot off the top of his aunt Lil's hairdo.

She rasped in a smoke-choked voice, "Imma kill you, you son of a bitch! And I know your momma, so I know it's true."

The owl landed on Rusty's mullet and bent down for the squid to take the letter out of its beak. The owl gathered its wings and took off. Lil shot it and slithered over to the carcass. "I ain't eating sand patties for three nights straight."

Lil went inside. The smell of bacon grease filled the air.

"Well, go on boy. What's them words saying?"

Rusty held the letter out with trembling tentacles and read aloud, "Mr. Rusty Cuyler, Atop of Tire Pile, Cuyler Mountain, Georgia."

"What's this 'mister' bidness? You been tellin' people where we live? Huh?"

Rusty cleared his throat noisily. " 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' - is that one of them demon hell holes you been talkin' 'bout, Daddy? 'Headmistress Pro- uh, pro-fesser Muhgongill,' somethin', somethin', somethin'. Uh... 'Dear Mr. Cuyler, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment-"

"Nuh uh! No boy of mine's gonna be messin' with them dark arts and devil learnin', nosirree."

"Aw, come on, now, Daddy! I ain't never been to school before. When you's in jail and it was just me and Lil and Granny, they wouldn't let me go to school 'cause they needed me to set the perms in Lil's shop."

"Never did know anyone that could curl hair like your boy, Early." Lil went back inside to the kitchen.

"Does that letter say anything about how we's gonna get the money to send you to some fancy devil school? Huh?"

Rusty scanned the supplies list and pulled the last page open. "Says here there's some scholarship I qualify for."

Early's eyes gleamed. If there was a scholarship, then that meant there was money. And if there was money-

"It says there ain't no money to be spent, 'cause it's all been spent already."

"Damn!"

"So, can I go? I'm supposed to check this here box and give it back to the owl and... Oh. Well, hell."

"Soup's on!"

Early laughed. "Gitcha inside and go get that mess o'chicken in there to send yer message on. Go on, now!"

"No, uh... no thanks, Daddy."

Rusty wiped away a tear on his... cheek, or whatever passed for a cheek with squids, and stroked the "yes" box on the meaningless letter. Lil and Early were fighting over the wings. Early pulled his knife, but Lil's press-on nails blocked the blow. Rusty folded up the letter and set it on the front porch and waited patiently for a drumstick.

What Rusty didn't realize was he had just elected to attend school by that action. Three of the recognized means of acceptance were verbal, written, or tears. That last one had been included by one of the founding fathers of the school, Salazar Slytherin. As Rusty gnawed on a ligament stuck to an owl bone, an agent of the school began the process for a portkey to be created in the woods behind Rusty's house.

Unfortunately, the school officials didn't realize that one man's trash was another man's treasure. A poacher eyed the cast off boot and envisioned a table leg. When the man came to, he found himself at the bottom of the school's lake. He drowned.

The school tried again with an empty tin can, a discarded pork rinds wrapper, and a moth-eaten rabbit's foot. Two old men and a fourteen year old girl with a "Rocken Like Dokken" tee-shirt joined the first man at the bottom of the lake. The Grindylows were happy, but the school officials were not.

September 1, the first day of school, came nearer, but Rusty was still on top of his Georgia mountain gigging frogs. The head of the Portkey Department struck a genius idea on August 22. A battered copy of Prousts' Collected Works lay untouched in the pine needle detritus in the woods behind the Cuyler's shotgun shack. The school sent a reminder letter, travel instructions and Rusty's school supply list by standard mail. Which essentially was the Sheriff.

"Rusty? Looks like I got some mail for you."

"Fer me, Sheriff? Hot damn!"

Rusty grabbed the letter and tore into it. His eyes scanned over the contents and a worried look came over his face at the long list of supplies.

Early stopped shaving with the side of his buck knife and eyed his boy. "They draftin' you? Boy, didn't I tell you to lie to the government? We don't owe them sons of bitches a damn thing!"

Lil stopped tinkering with her meth lab. "Except for all that money you owe them."

Early laughed. "Until them lottery tickets pay off with their silvery seasoning a'coverin' up my fortunes, I ain't givin' them one red nickel."

"Nawsir, this here says I get to go to that school what teaches magic and thangs. And I gotta get some supplies, but..." He read the last paragraph. "Looks like they got some I can use up there, how 'bout that, Daddy?"

"Well, la-dee-dah. You sayin' you better'n me?" Early was up on the tips of his tentacles, his chest stuck out.

"No, no sir! So... can I go?"

"I don't owe them nuthin'?"

A flower of hope bloomed inside Rusty. "Says here nuh uh."

"You get uppity with us, and I'll cut you, boy."

"Aw, thanks, Daddy!"

The two squids embraced. "Now get offa me and go bring that robot box out here. I feel like watching Ev'r Whichaway But Loose."

Rusty would be the first of the Cuylers to get a proper education. A distant cousin had flunked out of VoTech school on the second day after sticking the teacher with a homemade shiv - crafted from refrigeration tubes - for "eyeballin' him." If Rusty could last three days at Hogwarts, he would be the most educated squid in the whole state of Georgia.



TBC... Click on up here fer more. and 'silvery seasonings' is from an episode of Squidbillies and makes me laugh every time.

Comments

( 19 comments — Leave a comment )
beadbeauty
Jan. 16th, 2007 09:36 pm (UTC)
I gotta warn ye- workin with me's lak far and ice.

Fire and ice buddy.

Good job.
stoney321
Jan. 16th, 2007 09:38 pm (UTC)
Did you read the first part? KEE-rack.

We's gonna haffta shake the monkey on this one.
experiment666
Jan. 16th, 2007 11:00 pm (UTC)
I feel like a bad trekie, what's spock doing with the red tinted thing and what is the thing?

ugh I don't even have a worf user pic to back that up.
stoney321
Jan. 16th, 2007 11:07 pm (UTC)
I'm pretty sure it's from this episode. (The visor enabled humans to "witness" the ambassador - he's super ugly, to the point where people would go mad. :)
beadattitude
Jan. 17th, 2007 12:57 am (UTC)
Aw, it soo tuchin!' That pore little mite. ::wipes away tear and blows nose, loudly, in hem of shurt. Shirt.:
stoney321
Jan. 17th, 2007 01:45 am (UTC)
Heh - I've been talking like this for DAYS. Kindly = kind of, might could've, gonna hafta shake this monkey...

IT'S SO ADDICTIVE, SUSI. *pulls out a Mason jar o'hootch fer ya*
beadattitude
Jan. 17th, 2007 01:51 am (UTC)
Ah tell ewe whut; it shore is. Mmm-HMMM.

Thankee kindly.
thepiratequeen
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:22 am (UTC)
DUMBLEDORE DIED??????? NO!!!

Heh.

I'm not sure why you're writing this and I'm not sure why I'm reading it but I'm loving it so keep on keeping on.
stoney321
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:28 am (UTC)
"I'm not sure why you're writing this"

*sobs and eats ding dongs* I have NO IDEA why I am either, but the idea won't LEAVE ME, and I've not been able to write anything for almost TWO MONTHS. So.

:D (Don't even act like you don't want to read about Rusty's Sorting.)
thepiratequeen
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:33 am (UTC)
*pets you and strokes your pretty, pretty hair and cleaves you to my bosom*

There, there. You a have a GIFT, my dear. A beautiful, funny, crack adled gift and I say celebrate it!!

Now pass the ding dongs.
stoney321
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:37 am (UTC)
*picks a chunk of frosting out of your bewbies*

Oooh, and tell those guys in the kitchen to bring me my crack pipe. Not the one I made out of a hollowed out honey bear, the one out of a liter bottle of Sprite.

It gives my crack the fresh taste of Lymon.
thepiratequeen
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:53 am (UTC)
*looks sheepish*

I may have traded your Sprite pipe for this bag of magic beans and a Led Zeppelin box set. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
violethamster
Jan. 17th, 2007 05:22 am (UTC)
I'm enjoying these immensely. I can see the animation in my head as I'm reading.

It's scary how much more Squidbillies reflects real life than the average show.
stoney321
Jan. 17th, 2007 07:15 pm (UTC)
Okay, one of the major reasons I love you, aside from your sparkling wit, is that you get that crack!fic =/= bad!fic.

And I completely agree with you on Squidbillies. It's a lot smarter than it's given credit. Your saying that you can see it is so gratifying, I can't even tell you. (I know, I know, it's crack. BUT STILL!) <3
my_daroga
Jan. 17th, 2007 11:38 pm (UTC)
How do I love thee?

I'll tell you how--so good that you'll consent, in your post-coital bliss, to giving me whatever the hell you're on.
stoney321
Jan. 17th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC)
Ahahaha, man, I am grateful for each and every one of you (all four!) that have commented to this crack.

And for that, I give you my SPECIAL crack pipe. *hands over the WD-40 plastic lid*

Seriously, I haven't had this much fun writing something (I've been writing all day!) in AGES.
my_daroga
Jan. 17th, 2007 11:48 pm (UTC)
Dude, I'm like skip=460 on my flist and I *still* stopped to read your crackfic.

Hmm. The prize will have to wait until I'm not at the library...
darlas_mom
Jan. 22nd, 2007 05:17 pm (UTC)
Oh, God...my sides...my sides!

I love these. I love you for writing them. I'm DYING right now.
stoney321
Jan. 22nd, 2007 05:58 pm (UTC)
Yay!! Laughing is the best response EVER. Thanks for reading this. :D
( 19 comments — Leave a comment )

Tags

Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

April 2017
S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      
Powered by LiveJournal.com