Magorian

Beyond the forest

CH. 5: Oigroig's Dastardly Scheme

Graduated cylinders and beakers full of foul-looking mixtures lined extremely dirty shelves. Ravens perched on skull-rimmed chandeliers hung on the ceiling of the dingy lair. (It was especially cramped for the ravens, because most of the top of the lair didn't have a ceiling. And the skulls were made of plastic). The cloaked wizard who now sat writing couldn't help it- he had a very tight budget to work with. Only what his weekly allowance gave him could be spent. He surmised that even the eminent evil sorcerers Voldemort, Grindelwald and Zhoxi started out like this. There was no doubt in his mind that some day, everyone would quake and pale at the uttering of his name!

He mentally laughed at himself. Your name? he taunted. Your name is so pathetic it will cause people to roll on the floor in laughter! You can't even afford a full roof for your secret hideout!

Shut up! Responded Oigroig to his psyche. I don't want to hear you anymore!

Oiroig quickly stifled any rebuttal by looking into the device that lay beside the candle on his desk and writing down the words it spouted out. It was a device that constantly spewed names of people that were cool or interesting- his evil ambition was to crush all those with good names, for the teasing he got as a kid about his name embittered him to the point of mania. He spent copious days and evenings writing down the names that issued from the trinket and plotting murder on each one.

He was about to switch off the machine and go to bed (it was nearly 2:00 in the morning) when it started to rain.

"Augh! No! My list of names is getting ruined!" screamed Oigroig.

It was true; the paper was getting damp to the point of totally wiping away all of the ink on it. Oigroig was outraged. He had spent the entire week writing those names on the paper! In his fury, he decided to just kill the person that next came from his Name-Spewer. Eagerly did he await the next name's arrival until, at last, one came-

MAGORIAN

"Yes! This Magorian shall perish and I shall take his name! His name will be mine! But how do I take it? How do I rout the Name-Bearer?"

Oigroig proceeded to reflect on which evil clichéd scheme would be the most diabolical. After all, if he wanted to be an evil genius, he had to start his world conquest with a bang. He finally made up his mind, as dawn's first light started to shine through the grime-encusted and tiny windows. He would use sabotage and trickery to make other people do it for him.

Rubbing his hands together and cackling (it was an awkward cackle though, as his voice was cracking), Oigroig proceeded to send incriminating documents about Magorian in strategic places. He was really looking forward to the one he placed in 007 headquarters and in Dr Light's laboratory. Alas, only two groups were stupid enough to take the bait...

[The Batmobile screeches to a halt in an outpost somewhere in the interstate highway system]

Robin: Batman, why did we have to stop at this gas station? Why couldn't we have stopped and asked for directions before?

Batman: Because I'm a man, Robin- no matter how many times you saw me trying on that lovely corset- and men don't ask for directions. I've stopped for gas.

Robin: But the gas gauge isn't empty!

[points at gas guage]

Batman: Shut up, Robin, or I'll have to spank you again.

[gas station attendant arrives]

Batman: Hello... [reads nameplate] ... Habib. I need twenty bucks' worth of regular, please. [he leans in and whispers] I don't actually need it, I just need directions. Could tell me how to get to "Hogwarts", England and then pretend to fill up the tank?

Habib: Why?

Batman: I'll give you twenty bucks extra.

Habib: Deal. Go off Interstate 6 and make a left at Philadelphia. Go straight down Exit 17 and stop at the Grease Emporium in Charleston, South Carolina. You need to be all lathered up in it to pass the evil gophers that guard the shore. Then do the Macarena to appease the Sea God Poseidon and it's just a brief swim across the Atlantic Ocean.

[Habib hides his snickering with a hand over his mouth]

Batman: [still whispering] Thank you.

All of a sudden, the thunder of hooves could be heard from beyond the horizon. Soon enough, a veritable army could be seen galloping towards them.

Habib: Oh my god.

[he squints]

There are people... they're carrying torches! And riding cows! Run everyone! Run for your lives!

But before he can do so, the crazed riders reach the hapless gas station attendant.

Habib: ARRRGH!

You can probably guess what happened to him. Anyway, these once-docile people were obviously riled up after poring over pages of the Good Book for too many hours a day (one could only read about splitting babies in two and drinking someone's blood so many times before losing his or her mind, after all) and thirsty for blood.

Ichabod: Look, Jeb, it's another one of them "technologies!" Let's pillage it too!

Jebediah: Ah, I'm kinda tired of razing everything we see to the ground. How much farther 'til we reach Hogwarts?

[Ichabod takes out his map]

Ichabod: Let's see... we're here... Hogwarts is over there... hmm...

[Ichabod strokes his chin and looks confused. Jebediah snatches it out of his hands]

Jebediah: Give me that! [he looks at the map] You idiot! This is a coupon-book for Spam!

Ichabod: I'm an idiot? What about the time you mistook the butter churner for your wife?

Jebediah: Hey, I could have sworn it called me handsome!

Batman: Excuse me gentlemen, but I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking for Hogwarts. It seems we share a common destination, and I'd be more than happy to give you folk a ride. Whad'ya say?

Jebediah: Sure. Why not?

Batman: Alright! I'm sure you'll like our little road trip. Just one rule- no cow poop on the leather seats. They're quite expensive.

Magorian trotted around the forest absentmindedly, looking for a snack before he set off for Australia. His favorite was mushroom and sparrow sandwiches. He liked the mushroom to have little strips of spotted owl on it, and the sparrow to be full of yummy intestines. His favorite method of killing the sparrow was twisting its vertebrae and using its own beak to gouge out its eyes, then lick--

All of a sudden, almost as if the author wanted to break away from that rather unsettling previous paragraph, a rustling in the nearby bushes alerted Magorian. The steadfast centaur stood his ground, unsure of what might emerge from the shrubbery and a little taken by surprise.

Finally, the creature surfaced. It was... no, it couldn't be... a centaur... a female one! A female centaur!

Loads of questions entered his thoughts. Did a fish ever die of being burned to death? Did Mary Poppins have an OFF switch? What does love got to do with it? And, foremost, who was this beautiful woman standing in front of him at this very moment?

As though she read his mind, she answered. "Hi. My name is Sinistra, but you can call me anything you want. I'm here to show you the wonderful world beyond the outskirts of this forest with me." Everything she said sounded entirely rehearsed and without emotion.

"But aren't your kind only found in Australia?" Magorian answered skeptically.

"Um... yes. Yes they are." She was obviously thinking quickly and on the spot.

"We must travel to Australia... and meet my tribe."

Then she smiled, not because she liked Magorian, but because she had discovered a way to get him out of the forest.

"Sounds good to me!" said the lovably gullible ruffian.

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SPAM- if you don't like it, you're a loser.

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CH. 6: Finstralia

Sinistra laughed. She couldn't help it- she hadn't genuinely laughed in a very long time. She was enjoying the transition from peripheral to main character greatly, as well as the stories Magorian was telling her by the campfire.

Indeed, this night was greatly improving her opinion of him. He made a fire quickly when it would've taken her ages, and his stories were extremely funny. She especially liked the one where Magorian had discovered a new color, but her favorite was the one where he was quarantined for RHED (Random Head-Explosion Disease).

They had left together for Australia about three days ago, and every night they made a fire like this, taking turns to be lookouts. And every night Sinistra enjoyed them more and more. She was seriously reconsidering not coming back to teach at Hogwarts after she led the centaur off- she could use a little more adventure in her life. However, she was loyal to Dumbledore, so she guessed she'd have to return after she'd done her duty. It couldn't hurt to have a little fun, though.

Sinistra was not without her concerns. How would she possibly make it look like they were actually approaching Australia when they were on an island almost half a world away? (Luckily, Magorian didn't seem to have noticed this.) What would she do if Magorian asked her why she was here in England in the first place or if McGonagall's Transfiguration spell lifted prematurely?

Then she remembered that this was a humor fic, and that all logic was abandoned.

So, after a while, they reached their destination: Finland. Er, I mean Australia.

"Wait a second..." said Magorian, spotting the sign that said "Welcome to Finland" with the "Finland" hurriedly crossed out and replaced with "Australia" in a childlike scrawl. He also couldn't fail to notice the North Sea ships on the piers. "This isn't Australia!"

"I thought it was abnormally cold! And no desert in sight!" exclaimed Sinstra. "Hey you! You on the keyboard! What are you playing at?"

Who, me?

"Yeah, you!" responded Magorian angrily. "You're the author! Fix this!"

Um... I kind of can't.

"What do you mean you can't? You're The Savant!" hissed Sinistra, as if she were part snake instead of part horse.

Well, you see... I lost my new sponsor over an argument about the length of squirrel gestation, so I only have enough budget to send you to Finland. Plus, I can't ever legally buy Spam anymore.

"Why Finland, then? Why not America or Russia or something?"

Because Finland is my new sponsor.

"The entire country of Finland?" asked Sinistra incredulously.

Yep. They're very nice.

"Couldn't you just tax the people and use the money to send us to Australia?" said Magorian.

Hmm... The thought never crossed my mind. I suppose so. I need to fix my screensaver. Apparently it's a portal into my own fic.

So, on Magorian and Sinistra went, trekking towards the Land Down Under in order to either find a tribe of female centaurs or get rid of a troublesome centaur sans arousing suspicion, respectively.

At last, they reached a telltale red patch of desert.

"We're here! We're finally here!" cheered Sinistra. "I don't know how many more nights with that stupid Cher song stuck in my head I could take! Curse you for telling me it!"

Magorian said, "Hey, you wanted to know it."

Sinistra changed the subject. "Anyway, I've been wondering about something- how did we get here without crossing any water? Scratch that, how did we even get out of Britain without crossing water?"

"Magic. You can explain anything in a Harry Potter fic with magic. Besides, we should be glad we finally found the place. I'm starting to miss weekly escapades into the heart of the forest I have to eat the legions of chickens I cultivate there."

Sinistra didn't know whether to be affronted by, humbled by, impressed by or nonchalant to that comment. Alas, it didn't matter, for they were soon cornered by a band of torch-wielding Amish that had been previously been invisible.

"Rahrg!" they half spat out in unison as they as they tore off their cloaking devices.

Batman had given them some after he realized that he was going to miss Bonanza on the PAX network. He decided to just go home and order some pizza. He figured he might even get the chance to buy some Kentucky Fried Chicken on his way to getting the pizza. (It was extremely hard for a pizza delivery boy to find the Batcave.) But I digress. The point is that Batman wasn't at the scene, which may or may not have been because I decided to take him out of the story.

"What do we do? We're outnumbered 21 to 1!" shrieked Sinistra, bothering even in her panic to count the number of assailants now closing in on them.

"Worry not! I have brought a device that may turn the tide in this skirmish! Methinks this is the key!" said Magorian in a surprising bout of eloquence and articulateness. Sinistra was surprised to start to think that crisis just might bring out the best in Magorian.

Until, that is, she saw what Magorian rummaged out of his saddlebag.

"I banish thee, o malevolent devils! Be purged in the light of purity!" raved Magorian as he waved around a rubber ducky.

The Amish stopped and stared, not a little afraid that it would actually happen. However, after a prolonged period of inaction where they just stared at the ducky uneasily and feared the worst, they finally gathered their wits about them and resumed their attack.

"Okay, on to Plan B," uttered the centaur. The ducky returned to its pouch and Magorian was about to take out something else when Sinistra thought she had a better idea.

"Hold on! Why are you attacking us? We did nothing wrong to you!" she appealed as she held her hand up to stop the ever-approaching and hostile townsfolk.

"Nothing wrong to us? You think you did nothing wrong? I'll tell you what you did wrong! You... uh... you... um... a little help here, please..." said Ichabod. He and his brother were at the front of the line.

"You defiled our homes with your reckless and ungodly shenanigans! Your sinful gaiety has ruined our children's innocence! You made all the elders weep with your utter disregard for the words of the Scriptures! You must be vanquished in the good name of all that is sacred," said Jebediah with a flourish of his torch and a zealous glint in his eyes.

"Plus, we just like to burn things!" Ichabod said unconstructively.

"But can't we all just settle this through discussion and compromise? Why must war always trump diplomacy?" rebutted Sinistra.

"Make love, not war," added Magorian.

The mob quickly pondered this. She does have a point, Most of them thought. Isn't senseless violence reprimanded in the Bible? Then their testosterone reminded them that war was cool.

"Rahrg!" they repeated, disregarding what she said as they charged at a disturbingly frenzied pace, pitchforks held high in the air. They were now beyond any reason or argument.

"Okay, continuing with Plan B..." said Magorian. He pulled out a pair of shiny purple leotards with great haste and held it out in front of him. Instantly, a shield of repulsiveness radiated from the pants, for the lack of a match between Magorian's hair color and that of the trousers was so cosmically obvious that it distorted reality.

I've really got to stop using that excuse, commented The Savant.

The Amish could not penetrate the barrier that now encased the two centaurs. Indeed, as it grew, it battered them away like a waterfall would a small piece of driftwood that was particularly vulnerable to giant torrents of water. Before long, they were so far away they couldn't be seen anymore.

So, with that threat out of the way, the travelers continued their journey. When Magorian asked his companion for the direction of her fictitious tribe, she always pointed at a random direction. Eventually, they reached an old toothless man guarding a cave in the middle of the desert that may or may not have been in Scene 24 of a certain movie...

Oigroig was furious. Again.

Spilled coffee now obscured the newspaper article he had been reading. If you had bought the same paper, you might've guessed what had incensed him so much without too much difficulty.

Mystery in Queensland befuddles Australia

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA

In a startling occurrence early this morning, a group of no less than forty-two men were found scattered and unconscious all over the Australian Outback. Once revived, they could remember nothing of what happened to them save for a "big, glowing force-field of ugliness" coming at them. The Muggles were doubtless insane, as their ridiculous clothing could attest to, or had been using a metaphor for the Australian Minister of Magic's suspect political policy.

Muggle police interrogated them and subsequently sent them on a secret night-flight back to their home in Backwater, Massachusetts. Lord knows what they'll do to explain how more than two score Muggle men apparently Apparated several thousand miles and then just keeled over. It won't surprise me- I've heard them all.

Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

Oigroig had been having a very bad day, and the foiling of his master plan was doing nothing to soothe his nerves. Slipping on leaking nuclear waste headfirst into a beehive and stumbling blindly into a bear trap that happened to be electrocuted by swinging power cables was quite enough, as was being attacked by bi-polar squirrels attracted to the scent of his charred flesh on the way home immediately afterwards, but this was just too much.

Oigroig tried to not let his anger get the best of him, for he knew evil geniuses made not-so-genius-(but-definitely-evil) choices when enraged. Look what had happened to Voldemort, thought Oigroig. The poor chap got beaten four times by a bloody Gryffindor.

No, he'd just have to calm down and start thinking of a new plan.

Oigroig decided to read the obituaries before his midnight coffee seeped into the Daily Prophet to the point of it being illegible. They were his favorite article, and were always an upper. Quickly he skimmed through them, savoring every premature or undeserved death. Then, he doodled a little dinosaur on his desk. Then, he stood up all night conjuring a new, more sinister plan...

In compliance with my new pact with Satan- erm, I mean, my new contract- I have to make you all want to go to Finland. Here goes nothing.

Go to Finland. Now.

By the time you get back, I'll have a new chapter up! I hear Helsinki is simply marvelous in the springtime.