CLUEless

The guests were left plotting in their bedchambers... let´s take a peek, shall we?

Colonel Ron Mustard was pacing around his tackily decorated guest suite. He fingered one of his Dungbombs, silently wondering exactly how he was supposed to kill someone with a stink bomb. Perhaps it would suffocate him?

He was taking notes on a legal pad, mapping out the mansion. After several hours of intense scribbling down things, he had come up with a plan.

***

Ginny Scarlet was busily sharpening her lipstick, and was about to apply some to her already heavily lipsticked mouth, but then remembered that she was not allowed to use her murder weapon for cosmetic purposes. She ended up drawing a picture of herself poking Neville to death with her lipstick, and decided this was a very good Murder Plan.

***

Hermione Peacock was, as usual reading something. She put down The Art of War only to take up a quill and diagram a very complex and confusing series of fake-outs and how she would claim the magic 8 ball for herself.

***

Harry was sleeping, and visions of of himself shaking the 8 ball danced in his head. Also visions of Ron in a itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini. From the first minute Ron had decided to try on Hermione´s swimsuits a year ago, Harry had known he was bound to be scarred for life.

***

Oliver, instead of being productive, decided to stick pins into a voodoo doll of both Boddy and Squidward, hoping to take a more indirect approach to murder.

***

Draco worked perhaps the hardest of all. He concentrated for hours on end, barely remembering to blink, he was so engrossed in his plan. He was so frustrated with his fruitless efforts and the stuffy room that in a completely random act of plotlessness he decided to shed his Armani white collared shirt, revealing defined abdominal muscles and pecs that were... um... quite nice looking.

Eventually, inspiration struck. Thanking his muses, he jotted down his brilliant plan as rapidly as he could.

***

Plans were going to be put into action.

Ron decided to take the "stealth" approach. He dressed in black, and, humming the Mission: Impossible theme song to himself, stayed pressed flat up against the wall, thinking that Hermione, as she passed him by, didn´t notice he was there. Ron, you genius! he congratulated himself silently.

Sneaking sneakily down the stairs, every few seconds jumping up and turning around to face an invisible foe, he made his way to the Billiard Room as stealthily as possible. Of course, while he was whipping around to see if anyone was following, he knocked over a precious urn containing the cremated remnants of the late Trevor the Toad.

***

Hermione, following her mapped out plan exactly, was going to take the fastest route to the Billiard Room, grab the magic ball, and sprint out of the mansion like a bat out of hell, without engaging in any of the time consuming unpleasentries such as murder. She passed by Ron, pretending not to notice he was there.

"Ron, you twit," she muttered at him after the echoing sounds of Mission: Impossible had faded away.

***

Ginny was a little bit too preoccupied primping her hair and trying to look slutty for Harry to notice the sounds of footsteps that occasionally passed her room.

***

Oliver, still poking the voodoo dolls, tiptoed toward Boddy´s room, hoping to hear a shriek of pain as he twisted the doll´s left arm off. Instead, all he heard was Neville mumbling to himself in his slumber. He cursed Neville under his breath and left him to his dreams that sounded to Oliver like they had to do with licking shampoo off a duck. Whatever floats your boat.

***

Draco was working fervently (still shirtless). He wanted to finish his master plan before anyone saw him. After a good ten minutes of hard labor, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. In bright purple spray paint, he had written all over the west wall:

Harry loves Oliver

and on the south wall:

Ron sucks

Incredibly proud of himself, he concluded that he was rich enough to buy his own Magic 8 ball, and decided to sleep through the rest of the party. After getting such important messages out to the people of the world, and walking around shirtless, he felt that he deserved a little rest.