Evil Dark Lords and the Women That Love Them

Evil Dark Lords and the Women Who Love Them

(Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following characters. I'm not making any money on their usage. Jerry, please don't sue me. I am no one of importance.)

A tall man with a short buzzed hair cut and baggy jeans held a hand to his headset, listening for the right command. The clipboard in his left hand shook. This was definitely not going to be his favorite episode. He knew from the beginning, from his first day on the job, that he wasn't working for Oprah, but still when he woke that morning he had a sinking feeling that more than chairs were going to be flying in the studio today.

"All right," he called out, "cue the audience." A roar from the audience and his clipboard was at earthquake capacity. "Cue announcer," he spoke into his microphone. There was a brief pause and then the announcer spoke over the noise of the crowd.

"Today on Jerry Springer, Evil Dark Lord's, and the Woman That Love Them." There was a mixture of cheers and angry cries from the crowd and then the announcer continued, "and here's Jerry."

"Cue music," continued the buzzed haired man, watched as Springer walked out onto the stage. He wiped his forehead, stepped back behind a camera, and bumped into a dark cloaked figure. "Excuse me," he apologized, beads of sweat pouring down his cheeks, "was that all right?"

The hooded man nodded silently.

The buzzed haired man wiped his sweaty forehead and grinned. "Yeah, okay." He turned around and looked across the stage where Jerry had just begun to talk. Breakfast and apparently last night's beer and pizza were threatening to make a second appearance.

The camera man to his right looked nodded toward his "body guard" and then his shaking clip board, "you going to make it Ed?"

Ed didn't answer for fear of a pizza and beer response.

"Hello everyone," Jerry said grinning widely. "Welcome to our special Valentine's Day edition, Evil Dark Lord's and the Women Who Love Them."

The audience again roared. Jerry straighten his tie after someone yelled out, "oh yeah, who are they bringing out for you, you evil bastard?" Jerry heard the sound of money when remarks like this were made.

He cleared his throat and moved on. "Having known some of these men for a great deal of my life,"

"Do you hold the club meetings at your house asshole?"

Jerry's eye's widened, (cha ching) but he continued as though he hadn't heard the, (ah hem) gentleman in the audience, "it was not a problem to gather them all here so they can share their experiences with you. I will, however, ask you not to delve into their personal status as they are all currently wanted." Jerry arched his eyebrows as a wave of hushed whispering fell over the crowd. Jerry searched the crowd with his eyes for a moment, motioned for two large security guards from right stage and then pointed suddenly into the crowd. "And that goes for you to Dog!"

A tall muscular man with long blond hair, sunglasses, and tattoos sprung from his seat waving a sawed off shotgun.. "You bastard, you can't stop me from bringing those men in. I have warrants, they're breaking the law. I'll kick your motherfucking ass." The two security guards had made it to Dog, but it was too late. One of the cloaked men who had been standing behind the Ed stepped forward, pulled a long wooden stick, which he soon identified as a wand with his next move, from his pocket, pointed it at Dog. Without words, lightening bolts, or bullets, the large man lay writhing on the floor.

There was a collective gasp from the audience. A small group at the front of the studio wearing black robes trimmed in dark green and silver began to cheer and give each other high fives; Slytherins no doubt.

"Now that that is all settled," started Jerry, chuckling slightly, "I'd like to present my first guest. He's the kind of man who exudes evil from every pore, er well; I suppose pore wouldn't be the correct terminology, maybe orifice." Jerry stood puzzlingly for a moment; it almost looked as though his puzzler might have been sore. Then he shook his head, as if he shook off that thought and moved on, "ladies and gentlemen, he's known by many names, Tom to his friends and former dreaded enemy, the Dark Lord to his followers, He Who Must Not Be Named, by those who fear him most, Lord Voldemort." Jerry proceeded to golf clap his guest as he approached, flanked by two figures wearing skull masks and hooded cloaks.

Voldemort was tall, sporting an emerald green cloak that closely mimicked the color of his skin, only brighter. His eyes glowed from under the hood and when he removed it, just before sitting in the center stage chair, you could see they were very snake like. Where there should be hair he appeared to be scaly, and instead of an ordinary nose, his face was flat with two slits for nostrils. Seconds after he sat, a large cobra, slithered onto the stage behind him, taking even Jerry by surprise. Voldemort appeared to speak to her as they walked to their positions. The cobra watched every move that Jerry made, surveying the crowd like prey and then after circling the leg of Voldemort's chair, took a position between the Dark Lord and the solider to his right. This seemed to make this cloaked protector a bit uncomfortable, but he stayed none-the less. There were several loud screams from the audience, the Slytherin section awed.

As the Dark Lord took his seat he glared at the audience and then smiled wickedly at the small group. This sent them into frenzy, one boy fainted. A girl on the end produced an 8x10 glossy of Ralph Finnes, kissed it and then held it to her breast. Then just before Jerry began to speak a very sexy woman with long blond hair burst from the audience screaming, "Show us your cloaca." She was directly escorted off the stage by two armed security guards. Voldemort, however, motioned for one of the off stage cloaked men to follow.

"Cloaca," mumbled Jerry, "I'd like to see that." He then took his place upon the stage and began. "Good Morning Tom." The cloaked figures became restless. How dare this man be so familiar with their master? Voldemort lifted a hand to stop them.

"Cheers, Jerry," he hissed as the crowd noise subsided. There was a mass giggle from the fan girls. Jerry grinned widely.

"Tom, so wonderful to see you again."

One of the Death Eaters was obviously not pleased with Springer's familiarity with his Master and he lunged forward. Voldemort however, held up his hand again and stopped him.

"Yes, Jerry, it's been quite awhile, but I see that you haven't lost your touch." He looked out across the audience. "I caught your show on the Muggle telly. I was having one of my tea parties while Wormtail was out. There you were, spreading gossip, causing mayhem, disrupting people's lives." Voldemort chuckled. "And all without dark powers. How do you do it?"

Jerry blushed, the crowd erupted again and the Death Eaters grew restless. Even Jerry knew he needed to proceed. "Yes well, we're not here to talk about me, we're here to talk about you, and we've brought in few of your closest admires to do so." The Dark Lord's cheering section went wild. Voldemort moved to the edge of his seat and was wringing his hands. "Our first guest tonight spent many a night cloaked and hooded, killing and maiming innocent victims, all for the Dark Lord's pleasure. Would you please join me in welcoming Bellatrix LeStrange?"

Screams erupted as a tall dark beauty walked out and crossed the stage. She was dressed in red silk robes that clung seductively to her body as she walked. She smiled wickedly at the audience, fell to her knees, and kissed Voldemort's robes. "My Lord," she whispered softly as she raised her eyes slightly. Voldemort grabbed a hand full of her hair and pulled her face up until their lips meet his. The audience went crazy. This time several fan girls fainted. One of the masked Death Eaters was heard to let out a heavy sigh. When the noised subsided, Bella curled up like a cat next to his feet. Voldemort leaned down and bestowed the black haired beauty with another kiss.

"She's quite a beauty," remarked Jerry as he watched Voldemort stroke her hair.

There was another outcry from the audience and then a rather large breasted woman with long brown hair, wearing a WWF t-shirt and jeans stood up. "Yeah well, the bitch ain't got nothing like this," she cried lifting her shirt to expose her breasts. (cha ching ching) The crowd began to scream again. Several Death Eaters moved forward. It was unclear if they were going to detain or accost her. Ed, fearing for the woman's life, motioned for someone to take care of the woman and the situation was soon under control.

Springer looking slightly aroused began to laugh, then after a short pause started again. "So Ms. LeStrange," he started. "Tell me, what is it about the Dark Lord that draws you to him?" Again, the Death Eaters moved restlessly. Bella smiled seductively.

"He can do things with his wand that other wizard's can only dream about," she said in a dreamy tone. There was a collective sigh from the audience and Bella again kissed the bottom of the Dark Lord's robes.

"Yes, yes well we're quite aware that he's a talented man Ms. LeStrange," said Springer sounding a bit annoyed. "But what I want to know is what does he do to make you hot?"

There was some additional cries and cat calling from the audience. Bella looked around uncomfortably. Voldemort cleared his throat. "Go on my love. Tell them how you feel," he hissed softly. Bella drew a deep breath and continued.

"Well," she said running her hands along the creases of his robes. "I love the way his eyes glow red when we're alone together. I love the way he likes to torture one or two Muggles before breakfast, and I love the way he makes my dark mark burn when I've been a naughty girl." One of the fan girls swooned and ran across the stage toward Voldemort. The Death Eater closest to Voldemort raised his wand.

"Avada," But before he could finish a man wearing a head set grabbed her. Voldemort raised his hand and stopped the Death Eater.

"Avery!" he said in a deep hissing voice. "We do not kill fan girls."

The Death Eater lowered his head and whispered. "Yes my Lord."

Voldemort rose and walked over to where the stagehand stood holding the fan girl. He reached up and ran his boney hand down the side of her face. In the background, Bella hissed, her eyes blazing with anger. The young girl melted under the Dark Lord's touch. "Yes we shall this one back to the lair." Bella rose to object and then thought better of it.

The stagehand began to shake, but did not object as two Death Eaters approached and took the girl away. There was a great deal of craziness from the audience, including several others who attempted to storm the stage and were stopped. (Not all of who were women.) After a few minutes and Voldemorts' return to his seat, Springer regained control of the room. However, he wanted more than that, an evil grin crossed his face. "So Ms. LeStrange," he said very sarcastically. "But it isn't Ms or Miss LeStrange is it?" There was a rustle in the audience and both Bella and the Death Eaters shifted uneasily. "It's Mrs. LeStrange is it not?"

Bella cleared her throat and looked at Voldemort for help. The Dark Lord, however, looked amused. "Y-yes," she stuttered. Springer looked around at the hooded figures.

"In fact I believe your husband Rudolphus also serves your lover does he not?" asked Springer an evil glint in his eye. Bella had melted to the ground, still looking for her Master to save her from this wicked man's venom.

"Y-yes," stuttered Bella again. There was definitely an amused look on Voldemort's face now as one of the hooded entourage stepped forward and bowed next to him.

"Remove your mask LeStrange," commanded the Dark Lord. "Take your wife's side." The hooded man hesitated then did as he was told.

A heavyset man with a beard and a multitude of tattoos stood up, "Pussy!"

Rudolphus turned to the man, a look of confusion on his face. "Pussy?" he said looking at Bella.

Springer chuckled. "He's trying to say you have no balls." Again, the Death Eater did not understand. "He thinks you're a wuss." Springer was searching for a word the Death Eater would understand. "He's calling you a Mudblood," he decided on. Rudolphus eyes widened and he raised his wand at the man in the audience. Voldemort raised his hand.

"Rudolphus!" he roared. The Death Eater cowered next to his wife. "The man was only stating a fact. I mean, for Merlin's sake you love Boy George music, you've even impersonated him," said the Dark Lord with a chuckle.

Then someone else stood, it was another woman, this time she was an older woman who was short and had a very loud voice when she spoke. "Show us your dick Ruddy, prove you're a man, and show us your dick!!"

Another rose and called out, "You too!" she was pointing at Voldemort. "We can see who has the biggest." There was a ripple through the audience and then a chant began.

"Pull them out, pull them out, pull them out, and pull them out." Jerry was looking quite pleased with himself.

"I believe the audience wants to know why you've chosen to stray from your husband's bed, Mrs. LeStrange," he said with a grin. Bella looked to her Master again for instructions. It was clear the Voldemort was enjoying how uncomfortable Bella was feeling. The audience continued to chant. Rudolphus stood, he was obviously moved by the chanting, and it was clear that he had no inhibitions he began to disrobe. He had begun to strip to the rhythm of the chant. There was a scream from the fan girl section of the audience. However, Voldemort was clearly not up for comparing the size of his wand.

He raised a hand to LeStrange. "That's enough!" He stopped disrobing and lowered his eyes. The audience began to object. Voldemort stood, his red eyes glowed brightly, and they grew quiet. Jerry waited until the Dark Lord returned to his seat and Rudolphus his original position before he began to speak again.

Jerry chuckled darkly to himself, "Our next guest not only worships at the feet of the Dark Lord, but shares a special relationship with Ms LeStrange as well, and she's her sister." There was a rumble in the audience and several of the Death Eater's mumbled angrily. "Let's hear a nice round of applause for Ms. Narcissa Malfoy."

The audience again went wild and several men and women again attempted to storm the stage as the beautiful blond haired, pale-faced woman slinked out onto the stage. She was wearing a long black dress and black-laced veil. Bella looked up and snorted. "In mourning Cissa?"

Narcissa scowled at her as she crossed in front of her. She kissed Voldemort and then knelt at his feet. "My Lord," she whispered. Voldemort once again adjusted himself in his chair. He was now surrounded by beauty and feeling a bit intimidated by it.

"Yes Mrs. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to have you on my show," said Jerry adjusting himself as well. Narcissa nodded in his direction. "Yes two beautiful sisters, as different as day and night," he commented looking from one to another. "The dark haired vixen and the fair haired beauty." The women both turned to glare at Jerry. "So Ms. Malfoy, what is it that you find attractive in the Dark Lord?" Again, the Death Eaters mumbled.

Narcissa cooed like a dove. "He is my night in dark armor. He warms the coldness of my heart." The audience reacted with different tones and moans. Bella reacted with a snarl. "Something to say, sister?"

Jerry smiled sinisterly.

"Yes I have something to say," started Bellatrix, rising to her feet. "Mother didn't name you Narcissa without reason." There was a shriek of laughter from the audience. "You care about no one but yourself, and yet to claim to love two."

"Two?"queired Jerry.

Bella ignored the Muggle and continued. "You do not serve the Dark Lord. In fact you make trouble for him at every turn."

Narcissa stood, she was seething. "You're an evil bitch Bellatrix."

A large section of the audience stood and began to "Woot".

"Evil is as evil does," taunted Bella.

Narcissa sneered, inching closer to Bella's face. "That makes absolutely no sense at all, you dim-witted whore!"

Bella's eyes grew larger than sickles; she stepped back and slapped Narcissa across her cheek. Narcissa screeched, grabbed Bella by the back of her head, and began to pull. It was Bella's turn to scream and as she did to kicked at the shins of the attacker. Someone from the audience yelled "Cat fight!" and then they all took sides and cheered.

The Ed wiped his brow and backed into a camera. He looked at his watch. "Jeez this is the longest damned show we've ever taped," he mumbled to him self. "Oh hello." He bumped into the Death Eater that was his "co-director" for the day again and grinned. "Mary, mother of God, get me through this day and I swear I'll go to confession on my way home," he whispered to himself for no particular reason, considering he hadn't been near the church in about fifteen years.

Voldemort stood and put his hand between them, "Enough!" The two women stopped fighting and straightening their robes, all along glaring evilly at each other. "This sort of thing shall be saved for the lair."

Jerry was happy, very happy, he grinned widely as the three returned to their places. But he wasn't the kind of man to let sleeping dogs lie. "I'm surprised that you have this much spunk, Ms Malfoy, or should I say Mrs. Malfoy? For you too have family members who serve at the right hand of the Dark Lord, do you not?" Narcissa shifted nervously.

"In fact, your son is, at this moment, on the run from the Ministry of Magic because of his dealings with the Dark side. Because he in fact has killed someone," badgered Jerry. Everyone on the stage shifted uncomfortably. Several of the outlying Death Eaters began shuffling forward. "Perhaps you'd like to tell us about the state of your family now, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa swallowed hard, opening and closing her mouth several times. "Well," she started after a while. However, Voldemort would have none of this.

"Silence," he said, his voice echoing throughout the studio. "You will do nothing of the sort." He made eye contact with Jerry and began in a low even tone. "There are contracts signed, agreements made, you will have to wait like all the others until midnight 26, July 2007."

Jerry felt a cold chill follow the curvature of his spine. He nodded, as though in a trance, looking somewhat like a bobble-headed doll and then turning to Ed and cleared his throat. "Yes, well, we'll do that, then."

Ed nodded to him and then motioned to another man off camera; his hands were sweating so profusely now that he had to make great effort to keep hold of his clip board. The other man nodded back, and all signals were then relayed to Jerry, who not looking wholly relieved by this, turned to the audience and continued. "Our next guest is feared not only by those on this planet but by those from a Galaxy Far Far Away."

It was at these words that Ed, feeling a bit relieved that they all hadn't been blasted into oblivion by the Dark Lord and his followers, relaxed a little, and leaned back toward the camera. This was when he discovered that the dark cloaked figure had been replaced by tall figures in white steel plated armor, apparently sporting laser pistols. "I wonder where my rosary beads are?" he thought contemplating the laser pistol.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lord Darth Vader."

The sound of heavy breathing resonated from the right side of the studio as the menacing figuring of Vader emerged from the curtains. His black armor reflected the lights of the stage into the eyes of the studio audience and his steps echoed throughout as he crossed the platform and stood next to Jerry. He had no one on either side of him: no sentries, no guards in armor. He stood alone scanning the audience and the small group of fans that had now popped up on the left side of the crowd. They were carrying plastic light sabers and dueling while they made laser sounds with their throats.

"How amusing," muttered Vader under his breath. He turned swiftly and took the seat next to Voldemort. After gazing longingly for a moment at the two bewitching vixens, he leaned toward the Dark Lord and whispered. "The snake is a nice touch."

Voldemort arched an eyebrow and smiled. "I've always admired your light sssssssaber," the word saber rolling gently off his tongue. "I've always had a desssire for my wand to glow."

"Indeed," said Vader nodding slightly.

"Now, Lord Vader," Voldemort's associates looked silently irritated by the new Lord's entrance but kept their silence, "It's seems as though we've had to dig up one of our guests for you, ladies and gentlemen, Queen Amidala, better known around the flat as Padme Skywalker."

There was a great deal of gasping, a large woman fell to the ground and muttered something about demons and dark forces, and then a crowd of scantly clad girls wearing large head dresses began dancing in the isles. A very pale woman wearing an orange sequined gown walked slowly onto the stage and approached the now hyperventilating Dark Lord.

"Do you need a respirator, Vader?" joked Jerry.

Vader jerked his head toward Springer who suddenly began to gasp for breath, dropping his microphone and falling to the stage. The audience both screamed and laughed loudly.

"Anakin," cried the beauty, coming to his side. "Haven't you killed enough?"

Vader turned to look into her eyes and Springer collapsed like a race horse being released from the starting gate. He stood, grabbing his mic and coughing. Ed had started toward him and then catching a glimpse of the two storm troopers behind him, had thought better of it. Springer looked at the two lovers, Voldemort chuckling and the audiences reaction (cha ching) he was no longer angry.

"Yes, Anakin," he repeated sarcastically, no one was going to scare him, not even an evil dark lord, "tell us about that?"

Vader this time reached for his saber, but Padme stopped him with a kiss.

There was a collective ewwwwwwwwww from the audience. Even the fans couldn't believe she would kiss the full body armor.

"That's disgusting," yelled the woman who showed her breasts to the audience earlier. "You can't fuck that."

"The censors are going to love this show," Ed muttered.

The cameraman chuckled. "You can bet the house, it's going to make Uncensored."

Springer was sure that all hell was about to break loose, and that was the stuff of Daytime Emmys. He took a step back; grinned and thought about how it was a shame he hadn't let GW come on the show after all, when a kind of hell he hadn't thought about descended on his private little studio.

There was a series of loud pops and the studio was now filled with more people in long colored robes carrying wands, looking angry and intimidating. One of them, a rather sinister looking character with a wooden leg, materialized next to Springer. He pointed his wand directly at the zipper of his pants, one eye stared into Springer's while the other, a rather oddly large round one, spun around and seemed to be staring through the back of his head at Voldemort. He growled at Springer loudly, "I want to thank ye for making my job a whole lot simpler Muggle."

A tall, gentle-looking man with shaggy brown hair and tattered robes, stood behind Voldemort with three others including a young girl with short black robes, leather boots and pink hair. He shook his head at the man, "Moody, we're not here to scare the Muggles."

The girl with the pink hair giggled and winked causing the shaggy gentleman to blush brightly. "Come on Madeye, to business then."

Madeye growled at Springer again and then turned on the approaching Death Eater. "Crucio," he said pointing his wand toward one of the cloaked figures.

"Madeye," said the two in a scolding tone.

Moody growled at them and continued into the fight, and a fight it was. A battle had broken out between the Death Eaters and the new arrivals to the party. The storm troopers had joined in at the request of their master. The Order, the newly arrived heroes in cloaks, were doing their best to subdue the Death Eaters and the Storm Troopers when Indiana Jones music begins playing in the background a bullwhip cracks in the distance and Indiana Jones swings onto the stage, wait it wasn't Indiana Jones, it was Han Solo.

A small green alien looking creature enters the stage brandishing an equally small green light saber. He flips three times and lands at the feet of Darth Vader. Ed flips several pages on his clipboard frantically. "Did we get permission from the Jim Henson Company for this?"

"It's Yoda," yelled a fan from the audience. "May the force be with you!"

A tall, thin woman with a tartan hat ran toward Voldemort carrying a rather large gold framed portrait. Ed stopped looking through the clipboard all together and let it fall from his hand. The woman is speaking in a high-pitched voice and ranting about "He who should not be somethinged."

"Dumbledore, please," she screeched, holding a portrait of an old man with the long beard and half mooned spectacles out toward Voldemort, "do something!" The old man muttered something about lemon drops and began to snore.

Jerry had gone past daytime Emmy to State Senator, to President; in fact he was well on his way to orgasm when it happened, when the ceiling began to cave in.

The cloaked heroes looked up and then at each other, then the pink haired girl spoke.

"Shall we take this show on the road?"

Madeye nodded, grabbed a Death Eater by the arm and disappeared off the stage. One by one the cloaked "good guys" followed, until Storm Troupers were chasing those remaining behind the curtains. Vader grabbed his love, turned to Voldemort who was gathering his beauties and made a proposal, "You're lair or mine?"

Voldemort laugh wickedly, pulled out his wand, and cast a spell upon the entire group whisking them all away safely.

Ed turned the cameraman just after the smoke, cement and confusion settled and let the clipboard fall to the floor. "After this show I need an appearance on Dr Phil."