Harold Potter: Hey, do you know where the restroom is?
Goblin King: What… How? Harold Potter?! What are you doing here?!
Harold Potter: What?
GK: What are you doing here, Harold? How did you infiltrate my lair? I’m going to kill you, you realize that?
HP: What? I don’t-
GK: Who let him in? I’m the goblin king. Who farted? I am king of the goblins and who farted?
Harold shifted his weight.
GK: I’m going to kill this boy.
HP: Ok, I’ll just find my own way to the restroom.
GK: Wait!
HP: ok. what do you want?
i want your head!
maybe later when i’m done with it. who exactly are you anyway?
me?! I’m the goblin king! lord of the goblin kingdom!
well, gobble gobble mr. king!
are you mocking me?
no, i’m just having some fun. lighten up mister gobbles
mister gobbles?! i’ll have none of this in my own lair
yeah yeah, say what’s that over there?
that’s my throne. i reside on that when i put pressure on my underlings
oh, just what i needed.
it’s not a toilet!
can you hold that thought for a second
can you hold it for a second
ok fine senor goggles, say do you have any good cuisine around being goblins all the time
i should be having you up on the chopping block right about now
well have you ever had apples before
apples? i’ve heard of apples
well, *fart*, how do you like them apples?
gr… greer heer heer
what the hell was that? that sounded like you were on your throne there
i was angrily grunting where are my guards
well i’ve brought my arm guards
why’d you do that
just in case i get in ‘arm’s way, see what i did there?
yes yes very amusing
i’m tired of being here
i’m tired of you being here too
i guess i should be going now
yes, you should
they do not move
well?
well, what?
make like a tree and leave!
i’ll make like a dog and stay
this is really irksome
there’s really nothing better for you to do, is there
well i could always blank
what?
i blanked out
i wish i had half a mind to show you what for
well i have half a mind to show for
?: Hey boss, what’s- hey…. what’s going on here?
GK: Williams, do you know who let this guy in here?
I don’t know your lordship, Williams said as he drank his morning coffee.
And that moment was very dramatic. Until he missed with the sword. Then the tension of the situation was released and everyone had a good laugh. Harold was the boy who lived. He would eventually be the man who died, but today he was the boy who lived.
Williams the Goblin servant didn’t think much of the king up to that point in time. And he never would. His position in the world gave him an unflattering view of monarchies and he would find his own way to derive pleasure from his servitude.
Williams: Sir, I think this man is an imposter.
What?
He’s not Harold Potter at all. You should let him go.
Harold Potter or not, he remains an intruder and if we were to let him look at our facilities, it would compromise our political position with the elves.
True as that may be, he’s a fool that wants to use the restroom.
Goblins don’t have restrooms. They have bathrooms. We bathe ourselves in the same places where we excrete. And it’s right next to the death weapons so we can’t have him-
Sir! That is something you don’t want to be saying-
Oh shit! What did I say? Ice cream weapons? It’s right next to the ice cream weapons!
Oh, I want to see the ice cream weapons! Harold exclaimed.
And show them we shall, won’t we Williams?
Yes, we most definitely will sir.
Williams at that point guided Harold to the death cream weapons next to the bathrooms. There was room for toilet humor and references to dropping bombs of several types but Harold decided to skip it.
Well, here we are Harold. What do you want to see first?
I want to see the pointy spirally ice cream and the blinky beepy ice cream and the- hey… this ain’t ice cream.
He’s on to us Williams… He’s a lot smarter than he looks. I mean, a lot smarter, he looks so frickin’ dumb.
He’s right there sir.
And he looks deaf too.
Right then. Harold, said Williams. Harold, would you like to die on the pointy spirally?
What?
I mean, diet, diet on the pointy spirally.
Sure sir mister williams.
This will be my pleasure, said Williams. This was one of those moments he took pride in his work as a servant Goblin.
The device started spinning and approaching Harold’s face gradually. He stood there. There was no need for restraints. The death spiral also served as a hypnotizing device when looked at dead on, so to speak.
As it approached closer and closer to Harold’s face, the Goblin King was having trouble containing his enjoyment. So much so that he started to gasp for air. He was convulsing and having difficulty breathing. Williams didn’t give a damn. He was doing his job and the king was doing his– dying.
It was at that moment that Haggard burst in through a door that was there.
Harold! I am here to rescue you from the ice cream! He looked over at the scene. He saw the scene and he had seen the saw. Hey… there’s no ice cream here. There’s just death machines and goblins… Cool!
Haggard started slashing stuff with his mystical axe merely to see how they fell apart by his might. Hermione was busy trying to unhypnotize Harold using magic and stuff that nobody really cares about.
Harold! Wake up you dumbass! She slapped him in the face. That did the trick. Magic wasn’t very helpful that day. It was a Tuesday and Domino’s was doing a three pies for $5 each deal. These were the things going through Harold’s mind when his life was at risk.
Harold, we’re getting you out of here.
Will there be ice cream?
All you can eat, buddy. She was lying and was planning on dumping him at his house and eating his ice cream while he was knocked out from being hit in the face a lot.
Goblin King: NO!!!
The Goblin King’s weapons were destroyed and the invasion of the elf lands were delayed by several weeks. Thanks to your old granpa Harold. Wasn’t that a good story kids?
No. You didn’t even do anything.
Hey. Sometimes the best heroes are the ones that have the best friends there for him when he needs them. They just need someone to lead the way.
Or need their ass to be saved from needing to use the bathroom.
Speaking of which, who wants to change ol’ granpa’s diaper?
Everyone there volunteered to be not it. And Harold Potter the sixty year old otter went to sleep sitting in his own poop.
