A while back I wrote some parodies as I read the Alanna series along with my best-est buddies over at Mark Reads. I put my comments among Mark’s posts that correlated to the chapters I was lampooning.
Since the comments I posted are all scattered I thought it would be a good idea to put them all up in one place. Be warned: although everyone in the world pretty much knows who Alanna is; I realize this “Harry” character might be unknown to most of you. Some of the hilarious gags might go unappreciated if you don’t know who he is.
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all related characters were imagined by J. K. Rowling. Alanna and all related characters were imagined by Tamora Pierce. Please support the books that any of these characters appear in. And heck, my book too while you’re at it. (The button’s right up there, Kim.) :/
“Well you’re just going to have to accept this ‘wacky’ situation,” Harry said, lugging Hedwig’s cage into the house. “Your shaman’s gateway spell brought me here. I’ll just have to hide in your flat until I can find a way home.”
“But why here?” Alanna asked. “If you become part of the tribe––”
“Oh, no, no,” Harry said. “The last time someone slashed open my arm it did NOT go well. Look, I don’t like it any more than you do.” He removed his glasses and pretended to cry. “There’s nothing I detest more than being stuck in a house with a gorgeous redhead. I totally don’t have a thing for them. Woe is me, Harry Potter!”
As Harry continued to sob into his robe’s sleeves, Faithful hopped into Alanna’s lap.
“I don’t like this guy,” he mewed. “And that owl gives me the creeps. Look at those eyes. They’ve seen things. Horrible things. She probably logs it all in a journal.”
“Hush!” Alanna said. Harry perked up.
“Oh, do animals talk on this world? I mean, of course they do! What’s that Hedwig?” He stuck his glasses on his nose again, turning to the owl in the cage behind him. “You think I should tutor Alanna over a candlelight dinner? Oh, splendid idea!”
He produced a wand from his robe. “Accio ambiance!” At once a table set with flickering candles appeared.
“Is this how magic is taught on your world?” Alanna asked, eyeing the platter of chocolate frogs.
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Harry said as he winked at Hedwig. “And I do know all about magic. I even took down Voldemort, the baddest wizard ever.”
“I have defeated my share of sorcerers,” Alanna said.
“Oh, I’m sure you have,” Harry chuckled. “With a convoluted plan that took years’ worth of luck to pull off, I’ll bet.”
“I used my training as a knight to outlast my foes,” Alanna began. “I fought with every scrap of strength the Great Mother gave me. With Lightning at my side, even the Dark Gods of Death have yielded.”
“Er, yeah, that’s how I did it too,” Harry coughed. “Why yes, Hedwig, it is getting hot in here––”
“Unhand my sister, cretin!” a voice boomed from outside. The door flew open and a man with flowing robes and equally flowing red hair rushed in.
“Thom!” Alanna cried.
“George’s spies heard some wizard was making a move on my sister,” Thom said. “Hold on a sec.” Seeing that one of Harry’s shoes was untied, he pointed a finger at the hanging lace. Speaking a word of power, the shoe became tied again. Also, every cow within five miles exploded.
“It was necessary,” Thom said, shrugging. “Can’t have him trip while I’m slam-dunking his ass out the door.”
“I can find my own way out,” Harry said, picking up Hedwig’s cage. As he sauntered past Thom, his green eyes lingered on the luscious mop of red hair. “And I’ll be seeing you two later.”
Harry cocked his eyebrow sex-a-liciously at them both.
“Ooh baby,” Hedwig crooned in Barry White’s voice. “Sounds like this fanfic is gonna get hot.”
Faithful covered his face with his paws. “Oh, sweet merciful Goddess kill me now.”
For long moments they stared at each other: the author describing their clothing using a paragraph full of innuendos all the while.
“The customs here are strange,” Jon told Alanna at last. “First Myles tells me that I can’t touch you in public. Then some boy in glasses asks for a lock of my hair, stuffs it into a bottle, and runs off giggling.”
“Indeed,” Alanna said. “Say, I’ve been looking to worsen my reputation. Could we–? Jon? Is something wrong?”
Jonathan’s eyes were glazed over. They snapped into focus again. “Of course not!” he said in a completely different voice. “But I must use the loo first. Pay no attention to the latin chanting outside!” He spun on his heel, marching out the front door with stiff arms. Five minutes later he burst out of the fireplace, wearing a robe and scarf.
“Jon?” Alanna gasped.
“Yes, it is me: Jonny boy in the broad-shouldered flesh!” He crossed the distance between them in five strides, a stumble, and two gallops. He took Alanna’s face, smooshed her cheeks together, and forced her to look at him.
“Yes?” Alanna ventured.
“I intend to become the Voice of the Tribes.”
Alanna moved her fishy-lips. “How did you know that was one of the many questions I wanted to ask?”
“Legilimency! Er–I mean I just did.”
“Okay,” Alanna agreed.
Jon’s eyes widened. “Wow, you bought that? Then I also just know that you’re ready to get it on.” He shimmied out of his clothes, revealing a leopard-print thong. “Come and get me, my Lioness. Me-ow.”
“Wait.” Alanna fingered her ember-stone. Green wisps of energy framed Jon’s body, spelling out “I’M A PRINCE LOL.”
“Something is amiss,” Alanna stated.
“Aw, are you kidding?” Jon whined. “You’ve got a magic necklace that sees through illusions? That would’ve made my series, like, five books shorter.”
“You are not Jon,” Alanna said. “You’re that Harry person. Get out.”
“Gah! Fine!” Jon/Harry cried. He produced his wand. Somehow. “Accio presumptuous jerk!”
Jon skidded in through the front door, bound in self-tying magic ropes or something. I don’t know.
“Go on and have your big bedroom scene,” Harry grumbled, releasing Jon. “Need anything else? Want me to bring Stephenie Meyer in here to drool over all this cheesy lovemaking prose?”
“I do require one thing of you, Harry,” Alanna said. She beckoned the real Jon over. “Leave the thong.”
The Boy Who Lived Like the Woman Who Rides Like a Man, Chapter 7, page 152:
“I just can’t beat that Jon guy,” Harry sobbed. “You should have seen him at the ceremony, Hedwig. He was brilliant. Frickin’ sublime. He was spouting wisdom that would put Dumbledore to shame. Heck, even Gandalf. Jon’s a perfect match for her now. When those two speak it’s like living poetry, man.”
As he slurped up another spoonful of unmeltable ice cream, a loud crash sounded from the nearby tent.
“I said I needed more time to think!” Alanna shouted, pushing the tent flap aside and storming out.
“And I said you’re a big doody!” Jon argued back, following her. “You’re the biggest doody there is!”
“The hell!?” Harry choked out as he dropped his spoon.
“Oh! Oh yeah?” Alanna retorted. “This is you.” She stuck her finger in her nose and waddled around like a duck.
Jon stomped his foot and dashed over to Moonlight. “Well I’m going to marry your horse! See how you like that!”
“How dare you marry my horse without asking!” Alanna snapped. She took a wadded thong out of her pocket and threw it at him.
Harry, Faithful mewed. We need to stop this fight; they’re getting too angry.
Harry coughed. “I don’t think it’s too bad yet; the dialog is still in lowercase.”
You don’t understand, Faithful mewed. This is the first real argument between friends in the entire series. Everyone, in every plane of existence will be affected.
Somewhere in California, Mark Oshiro dropped the book he was reading. “It don’t–I can’t even–”
“Hey, Mark!” SpectralBovine said, skipping in. He held a doll that wore a habit. “I got you this: ‘Nunzilla!'” Mark turned to face his friend, his eye twitching.
SpectralBovine held the doll out. “I’ll give you a moment to get the joke. Give you a hint: play on words.”
“FEELINGS!” Mark shouted. His shirt tore at the seams as he grew to a monstrous size; Bovine spied the book on the floor.
“Uh oh. What did you read now? How bad is it?”
Mark tore his laptop in half and held the keyboard up to Bovine’s face. His fingers pounded the keys into a fine dust.
“Uh, I’m gonna go get one of the other mods,” Bovine said. “I think someone needs me to post a GIF of a kitten somewhere.”
Back in Tortall, Harry slammed his newspaper down. “HULKING VEGAN RAMPAGES,” it read. “EVERY JAMBA JUICE EVACUATED.”
“Hedwig, gas up the broom,” Harry said. “Mark’s in trouble, and with those two bickering–there’s only one Potter for the job.”
With hulking Mark grasping the back of the broom, Harry steered them both through the darkened sky. “I’ll get ya fixed, man,” he said. “It’s time to show Alanna how a real wizard does things.” The broom took a dive and landed at the palace courtyard. “Thom!” Harry called. “Thom, help! HELP!”
Thom looked up from the miniature universe he had created in his spare time. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Mark was hovering in the yard amidst a vortex of torn book pages.
“He was reading the previous chapter,” Harry cried. “But he can usually handle it. Even when Sirius died he didn’t float AND glow!”
Thom nodded as a fissure opened in the yard. “It’s obvious. A curse. Someone is amplifying his emotion as a focus for dark magic. ‘Feelings’ as you mortals call them. What have you tried so far?”
“My wand and a crucifix made out of hot dogs,” Harry said.
“It’s up to me, then. Hold on to something,” Thom commanded, pointing a finger at Mark and taking a hot dog with his free hand. The earth trembled. The sky grew blacker. A sweat bead fell from Thom’s temple as he lifted a second finger.
“Quite strenuous,” Thom admitted as he chewed. “I might have to borrow some power from someone.”
“Take it, baby!” Harry cried, tearing his robe open at the chest.
“Um, I was thinking of my twin,” Thom said. “You fight emotion with emotion, and she has plenty. Let me gaze through the ether to see if she’s experiencing any–WHOA! Sweet Jiminy Cricket she’s experiencing emotion!” He dabbed at his brow and a strand of violet energy fed into him. With great effort he lifted a third finger. The castle towers blasted off like rockets.
“Ow!” Mark said, falling to the grass with a boom and a crash. The wind ceased, the clouds vanished, and the many book pages fluttered to rest.
“Are you okay, man!?” Harry asked. Mark looked up.
“Wow. You’re Harry Potter!” He smiled, his face frozen. “I’m in Tortall! Wow. Wow.”
“I’ll have to thank Alanna,” Thom said. “Yes, ‘thank.’ I believe that’s the word.”
“But you just stole Alanna’s power,” Harry protested. “That’s so wrong, dude.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Thom chuckled as the entire castle behind him crumbled to pieces. “I’ll just say I needed it for a harmless experiment. ‘Masters only’ or some such.”
“Well, off you go, Mark,” Harry said, placing Mark on the broom. Mark frowned.
“Wanna stay,” he mumbled.
“No, no, Mark,” Harry laughed, clicking his tongue and sending the broom off. “Someone’s got to go breathe life into my stagnating franchise! Keep it up, buddy! So long!”
Thom pondered as Mark flew away, crying. “But who could have been draining Mark’s energy? Ah well. We’ll just blame Jonathan.”
“You’ll have to hit a man lower than the bottom of his ribs,” Liam explained. “Here, let me show you.” He took Alanna’s hand and slid it across his muscled-up, super-sexy abs. “Right down here. Ooh, yeah, this is where you need to hit it.” Harry gagged from where he hid under his invisibility cloak.
“What a crock,” he muttered. “I’m supposed to be the love interest that popped out of nowhere.”
“Tell me about it,” George whispered, peeking out from a tuft of wild reeds. “This guy shows up in what––book four?”
“‘I need to go on adventures!'” Jonathan mocked under his breath from the shadow of a tree. “Yeah, nice adventure. ‘Lioness Rampant’ indeed.”
In the clearing, Liam brushed into Alanna on accident for the tenth time. She blushed yet again. Their eyes met, held, and hugged each other.
“I can’t take this anymore!” Harry shouted, tossing off his cloak. “These sappy love plots have gone too far!”
“Harry,” Alanna groaned, sagging in Liam’s grip. “And Jon. And George. I thought at least you two would let me be.”
“Now, well, I am a thief, lass,” George said. “Hidin’ in the bushes is what I do.”
Liam chuckled. “I suppose you all came for some training, then? If you wanted to spar, all you had to do was ask.”
“Alright!” Harry shouted. “Get him, boys!” He hid under his cloak as Jon and George dashed forward. Liam’s left pectoral muscle flexed, catching Jon in the chin and sending him flying back to the tree. George was thrown back by a move so fast the author didn’t even have time to type it.
“He’s too strong,” Jon said, wiping blood from his lip.
“Aye,” George agreed. “Is he trying to spar or kill us?”
“Did someone say ‘Sparkle-ous?'” In a dazzling flash, Edward Cullen dropped out of the sky.
“I’ve been watching you boys,” Edward said. “Every night. And I see that my time has come at last. You think this Liam fellow is corny? You think you know cheesy prose? Step aside.”
He sauntered up to Liam, his prismatic, cherubic face twinkling. “Beat that sentence, Romeo.”
Liam gave his mustache a sensual stroke, his eyes changing from pale crystal to lavender. Edward laughed.
“Hon, I know that trick too,” he said, his eyes flickering red before cycling through the entire rainbow. His chiseled–yet soft–Adonis-like body glistened with the brilliant radiance of a zillion supernovas.
Liam fell to one knee. “You’re good. I haven’t seen such sappy descriptions in years.”
“Truly,” Edward purred, snapping his fingers. He flipped his hair, looking out at the readers. “The next time you think that the book you’re reading is too cheesy–just remember who the master is.” And then he bounded into the sky, flying away as all vampires do.
“Alanna sure has been gone a long time,” Harry wondered. “She better not have gone camping without me.” The door next to him opened and Lord Voldemort walked in.
“Voldemort!” Harry gasped. “I am mildly surprised to see you alive!”
“You cast me into eternal void,” the Dark Lord hissed. “And I have found a way to return from that miserable fate. But It’s okay; I’m totally cool with you killing me. Let’s hang out.”
Harry thought really hard. “Well, you did try to eradicate all Muggle life, but if you’re back then what can I do?” The door opened again and in walked Jon: flanked by Roger and Count Dracula.
“Harry, I just can’t find out who the conspirators are,” Jon said as Adolf Hitler stepped out of a glowing time portal. “I fear there is a villain amongst us, but who could it be?”
Roger chuckled, spilling a bit of the blood milkshake that he was sharing with Drac. “Don’t trouble yourself with such paltry things, o just and rightful ruler. You are the best king that there is!”
“But weren’t you the guy that tried to steal his throne and murder his family?” Harry asked. Voldemort handed him an acid pop.
“We’re good guys now.”
Harry nodded, taking the sucker. “Alrighty!”
In the doorway, Myles pushed his way past Pinhead and the T-1000. “Dire news, M’Lord!” he cried. “The culprit is exposed! Claw’s true name is Ralon!”
Jon cursed. “Of course! Ralon! I should have known that he’d come to kill me after getting beaten up by somebody else as a child! He’s the only one that would betray me; I’ve never been a jerk to anyone else. To arms, men! Let’s all find a dark cellar to ambush him in! And don’t forget to tidy the place up first: the Count’s been watching Buffy reruns; he gets a bit nervous around large quantities of dust.”
Chaos, pandemonium, and hell all managed to break out at the exact same time. Harry stopped to ask Alex for directions.
“Can you be a nice bloke and tell me where my final battle’s at?” he said. Alex pointed to a flight of stairs. Harry thanked him as Si-cham ran out of Roger’s boss room, bleeding.
“Shouldn’t we catch all these guys running around?” a guard asked. Alex slapped him.
Harry reached into the folds of his robe and dashed up the stairway. “Voldemort! I’m here to finish this! And I’ve got loads of really sharp objects! You’d better not try to forcibly levitate them out of my hands!”
“I will do no such thing,” Voldemort said. “I’ve planned for every move you could possibly make.”
Harry dropped his laser katana. “Drat! Sounds like you’ve done your homework.”
“Indeed,” Voldemort chuckled. “I planned for everything. You used to be a part of me. I know every move you could make.”
“That sounds like it would work,” Harry said. “If I were really Harry.”
“Uh oh,” Voldemort gasped. “I smell a Rowling-sized plot twist coming.”
“You’re right,” Harry said. “And it seems my polyjuice potion is wearing off.” He covered his face all dramatic-like with his hands. His robe grew baggy as his body shrunk. His hair lengthened, turning bright red.
“When I heard there was a red-haired girl having adventures, I got a little jealous,” ‘Harry’ said. “I had always been in the background in Harry’s story, so I wanted to tag along with Alanna to see what being the heroine was like.”
“Sweet M. Night!” Voldemort hissed. “You’re Ginny!”
Ginny flung off Harry’s glasses. “That’s right: I’m the girl disguised as the boy who lived like the woman who rode like a man! I thought my cover might have been blown when you saw that my scar didn’t react to you two chapters ago. Don’t feel bad–no one else in the comments caught it either.”
“I can’t believe there were actually clues that hinted at this!” Voldemort screeched. “And I missed them! No one must know!” He drew his wand and jabbed its tip at Ginny. “Avada Kedavra!”
I got this! Faithful mewed, dropping from the rafters and batting the green laser beam away with his paw. The curse rebounded back to Voldemort; the cat and dark wizard both dropped dead; the world’s supply of semicolons ran dry; Tamora Pierce had used them all up in the finale.
“Oh, brave, sexy kitten!” Ginny cried. “Thank you for saving my life!” She cradled Faithful in her arms, snuggling him close. “I’ll always remember your bravery! Thank you!”
(Insert flowery section-divider thing here.)
And that’s the story of how I saved all of Tortall, and the lives of two cutie pies in one day. Faithful smiled at the Goddess, closing his laptop.
“Are you sure all that happened after you got stepped on?” the Goddess asked.
“Even if it didn’t happen,” Hedwig grumbled, “it would still be better than what I got.”