The First One To Get Eaten

THE FIRST ONE TO GET EATEN


Sirius: So, which of us gets eaten first, then?

James: Listen to him. Three hours on a freezing rooftop and he's raving and making no sense.

Remus: Well, as long as he's still acting like himself, it's not hypothermia.

Peter: I'm cold.

Sirius: You can't be cold. You're better insulated than any of us!

James: On second thoughts, let's NOT listen to Sirius. He's the one who got us into this mess.

Sirius: Come on, where would you be without me?

Peter: In our warm, soft beds.

Sirius: My point exactly. Isn't this more exciting?

James: Yeah, I love sitting on pointy bits of masonry.

Remus: Um, I didn't need to hear that, actually.

Sirius: I did. I'm writing it down.

Peter: What _I_ love is staring off into the darkness. Yeah, right.

Sirius: Forget the darkness. Look at the pretty lit window. Become one with the pretty lit window.

Remus: I don't think it works like that. If we keep staring at it, the lights'll never go out. It's a universal law.

Peter: Really? Well, what do we do, then?

Sirius: Let's decide which of us gets eaten first. If we get stuck here, I mean.

James: There is something very disturbing about your tone that makes me think you're serious.

Sirius: Well, I AM...

Remus: Please, please, please don't say it. Please.

Sirius: If you play my game I won't. Oh, come on, we're bored, it'll be fun.

James: I suppose we might as well. It'll end quickly. I think we're all in complete agreement right now.

Peter: Oh no. It's not fair.

James: Don't you dare defend him! He's the one keeping you out of your warm, soft bed.

Remus: I don't think Peter was defending Sirius. I think he was defending himself.

Sirius: Was he? Well, in that case, I say we eat him. He's the plumpest.

Peter: I am not fat! And I certainly wasn't defending you!

Sirius: Guess I'll have to defend myself, then. Come on guys, just look at me!

James: We are. Can't you tell?

Sirius: All right, picture me then. Stringy. Hardly any meat on my bones. Eat me, and you'll have to kill another all the sooner.

James: Ah. We're killing off everybody in turn, are we?

Remus: How long are we waiting between kills? Because if it's two weeks or more, I think I'm safe.

Sirius: Actually, you might be safe anyway. You know how you're not supposed to bite us?

Remus: A thought that haunts me all my days and all my nights.

Sirius: Now, my question is: are we supposed to bite you?

James: Good point. Remus might be like a tarantula: whether it bites you or you eat it, you'll end up poisoned...

Remus: Nice comparison, guys. Thanks.

Peter: No, it's fine to bite Remus. I mean, we know it's fine.

Sirius: And how do we know that, Professor Pettigrew?

Peter: Well, you've already done it. Don't you remember? After you had asked him why the girls like him better?

Remus: _I_ remember it well. He's an animal, really. And I was only trying to be helpful!

James: Besides, isn't that ancient history now that your spots have cleared up? Not that it has made a real difference...

Sirius: Oh, shut up, Mr. Muscular-Quidditch-Champion-Soon-To-Be-Known-As-Lean-Beef.

James: Do you even get to vote? I mean, haven't we killed you off already?

Remus: No, actually, we haven't. And he does have a point. You're by far the healthiest specimen here.

Sirius: Stewed in mushrooms, do you think?

Peter: We don't have mushrooms.

Remus: Unless you count lichen.

James: I don't even LIKE mushrooms. Besides, what would you guys do without me?

Sirius: Weren't you paying attention? We'd pick someone else to kill off and eat.

Peter: You this time, right?

Sirius: I don't know about that, my little friend. I can tell you, from personal experience, just who here is delicious.

Remus: I am not! And I do hope you're not still bitter about the girl thing.

Sirius: Hear how he mocks me! Vote for him, Peter, and I'll give you my sweater.

James: You're starting to sound exactly like a Slytherin, you know!

Sirius: Hah! If you weren't dead, I'd kill you!

Peter: All right then.

James: All right what?

Peter: All right, give me the sweater.

Remus: I can't believe this. My life's worth less than a sweater.

James: Let us remember this well: here sits a man who would betray his friend for a sweater!

Peter: Well, I'm COLD!

Sirius: Really? You poor suffering child. Well, we're the only ones left now, and I think I'll kill you as an act of mercy.

Peter: You can't do that! Help!

Remus: We can't stop him.

James: Yeah, we're ghosts.

Sirius: Well, you're ALL ghosts now! Muahahaha!

James: And I do hope, Sirius, that you'll have lots of fun now that all your friends are gone.

Remus: I'm sure he'll manage, somehow. As long as he keeps his sense of humour.

Peter: You guys are totally creeping me out.

Sirius: Me too. I now feel strangely guilty. It WAS just a game, guys. In a real-life situation, please feel free to think of me as food.

Remus: Actually, do you mind if I don't?

James: Yes, it's much more fun thinking of you as the guilty party.

Peter: Hey! Guys! Look! The window's gone dark!

James: Ah, the old witch is asleep at last. To mischief!