Title: Double Truckin' The Tricky Two [3/?]
Rating:Tall enough to reach the bar, old enough to read the fic
Fandoms: Squidbillies/HARRY POTTER. It was inevitable.
Summary: Early's boy Rusty has magic in 'im. Some fancy pants school sends him an acceptance letter. Also: SQUIDS. And hair-doos. Boiled peanuts optional.
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. All over my LJ.
Did you miss the beginning? (On purpose?)
How about the second chapter?
Early doffed his cap [inset: close up on cap. "Sponsored by Jim & Jack" with pictures of liquor bottles] and smoothed his comb-over. "Son, don't you go shamin' the family name, now."
"I won't, Daddy. I'll learn real hard. Ain't nobody gonna be better'n me at that Voo Doo stuff they's gonna teach me."
Rusty held his duct-taped trash bag closed and waited for his Aunt Lil to finish her smoke so she could pat his head or something affectionate like that. Instead, she lit a second cigarette and stuck it in her mouth before the first one ran out. He turned and hesitantly waited for his dad to embrace him, or give him words of wisdom. He didn't.
"Well, go on, now. Cain't be sittin' here all day waitin' for you to get a pair. I got work to do." [Cut to fishing pole and Styrofoam cooler of Pabst]
Rusty held his bag close and grabbed the book. The Sheriff, there with a warrant for Early's arrest for his latest robbery, sniffed back a tear as a light grabbed a hold of the young squid.
"He's gonna make us proud. Oh, it's so hard to watch the young 'uns grow up."
The portkey whisked Rusty away. He screamed as he whirled through the portal, his tentacles gripping his bag in fright. The swirling stopped; he was at the edge of a large and cold lake, a sodden book clutched in his grip. Rusty slithered from the shore and joined the rest of the First Years gathering at the docks. They had all rowed across the lake. A few girls pointed at Rusty and screamed.
Rusty blinked up at the castle. "Gaddang!"
"Firs' years, to me!" An enormous man gathered up all the children and led them to the front steps of the school. Rusty nervously approached him, wanting to make sure he was in the right spot.
"Uh, sir? Mister? Is this here the-"
"Wha're you doin' out o'the lake? Back ye go!" The giant scooped him up and tossed him back over the heads of the clustered students into the frigid water.
"Son of a--!"
Rusty choked a mouthful of lake water. By the time he climbed back out and grabbed his bag - he had to wrestle a house elf for it and eventually pulled his knife on the creature - the other First Years were inside the great castle. He raced to catch up and barely made it into the Great Hall. In fact, he didn't make it. It was lucky for him that he was an invertebrate. After a few minutes of flexing and squishing, he pushed through the partially closed door and up the space between the long tables to join his classmates.
The whole room fell silent as they watched his progress. A tall, thin boy with floppy hair and rabbit teeth gaped at him. Rusty stuck his chest out and pounded it with his tentacles. "Whatchu lookin' at?"
The boy was Neville Longbottom. He stammered out a barely audible, "N-nothing!"
"Damn right it's nothing."
Rusty moved up to the front. "This here the... this the school where I'm gonna learn magic and devilry?"
A woman dressed like a Halloween witch looked at a list in her hands and adjusted her glasses. "You must be Russell Cuyler?"
"Ain't nobody but the law calls me that. Call me Rusty."
"Very well. Sit here, Rusty."
She pointed at a stool behind her.
Rusty eyed her suspiciously. "Why come?"
"We are going to sort you into your house."
"Nuh, uh. My aunt Lil warned me about that hazing business. I ain't gonna let no one tie a car battery to my joystick and turn it on. Now, unless this hazing involves beer, and lots of it-"
"Mister Cuyler. Be quiet. You will sit on this stool and I will put this hat on you, and you will find out where you will live while you are here, is that clear?"
Abashed, he looked up at the formidable woman. "Crystal, ma'am." He climbed up onto the stool. A flash of red in the room caught his eye. It was the hair of a good looking kid with the face of an angel. Rusty narrowed his eyes to get a better look - he always suspected he needed glasses, but Early had drunk the eye doctor savings - and saw the kid was muttering to himself and trying to hide behind a girl with big poufy hair. Rusty made a mental note of various cremes and pomades to give that girl control over her curls.
A big nasty hat was put on his head and he heard talking in his head, but not the normal voices. This one was a foreigner. "Slytherin!"
The whole room erupted in cheers and clapping. Rusty got a warm glow in his chest. He beamed and surveyed the crowd, and saw that the students at the far table against the wall were groaning, a few of the kids even narrowing their eyes and looking murderous.
"Go along, now. Your table is that far one against the wall."