Those Twins (Belle, Alan Menken / Howard Ashman)

I've never been much good at practical jokes, so I thought I'd acknowledge the first of April with a tribute to my favorite pranksters, to the tune of Belle from Beauty and the Beast.  Here's to you, Fred and George!  Happy April Fools' Day!

Those Twins

[The sun rises on the Burrow on a summer day in 1993]
Ginny: Little house.
It's a tiny cottage.
Ron: Could be dull
As Professor Binns.
Percy: But this house
Full of red-haired people
Is in disarray...

Molly: Those twins!
Percy: Those twins!
Molly: Those twins!
Percy: Those twins!
Molly and Percy: Those twins!

Fred: (peeks from around corner)
There goes our brother with his badge like always.
How can he walk with that big head?
George: You would think he’d know my name
Since we live here in the same
Overpopulated house... (goes into kitchen)

Spoken
Percy: Good morning, Fred!
George: ‘Morning, Perce!
Percy: Where‘s George?
George: Upstairs.  Starting to smell up there; I think he just set off some dungbombs in your bedroom, and -
Percy: That George...  Mother!  I’ll show him...  Mother!
(George leaves and dashes off laughing with Fred)

[in a Hogwarts corridor, that fall]
Filch: Look, there they go.  Those boys are brats, no question.
They strut around with cheeky grins,
But their antics aren’t allowed.
Since they first came here, I’ve vowed
To revive the old deterrents for those twins.

McGonagall: They liven up Transfiguration.
Snape: Those hooligans!  They cause me strife.
Flitwick: Their flair for Charms is quite extensive.
I’ve never taught such students in my life!

[approaching Ludo Bagman at the Yule Ball, winter of '94]
Spoken
Ludo: Ah, boys!
Fred: Good evening! 
George: We'd like to request the funds you promised.
Ludo: Bugging me still, boys? 
George: Look, that was all our savings!
Fred: We'll give you another trick wand...
Ludo: You're too young to gamble anyway!
Fred: Ha!  That's not what you said at the World Cup!
Ludo: World Cup...  Well, I had a lot on my mind!
George: Well, we have a lot of tricks up our sleeves!
Fred: Canary Creams -
George: Ton-Tongue Toffees -
Fred: All sorts of stuff, but we need supplies!
Ludo: Say, boys, isn't that your brother headed this way?
Fred and George: Oh, blast!
Ludo: Toodle-oo!
Fred: We'll see you...
George: See you very soon!

[Gryffindor common room]
Hermione: The twins are whispering.  It's so peculiar;
They're always making so much noise!
As I pore over my book,
I will just steal a quick look.
Oh, I wonder what they're up to now, those boys...

[on the Hogwarts Express at the end of the school year]
Fred: George, isn't this amazing?
We can start that joke shop, you and me.
George: And when it's up and running,
We'll let Harry take his pick of merchandise for free!

[at Grimmauld Place, late summer of '95]
Molly: I'm putting both of you on clean-up duty.
Go empty out the rubbish bins.
Fred: Here's a cheerful little thought -
We'll recover what she got.
Oh, she'll never get the best of me.
George: No, she won't get the best of me.
Molly: Oh, they won't get the best of me, those twins!

[a few days later, huddled around Ron's Hogwarts letter]
Spoken
George: No way!
Fred: No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect!
George: (to Harry) We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!
Fred: I guess you've caused too much trouble.  Good for you!
George: Bad for us.  Mum's going to be revolting.
Fred and George: (chanting) Ickle Ronnie Prefect, ickle Ronnie Prefect...
Fred: At least one of you's got their priorities right.

Hermione: Can you believe this, Ron?  We'll both be prefects.
These two had best tone down their sins.
Molly: Now with any luck you will be a Head Boy just like Bill.
What a shame it didn't rub off on the twins...

[in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, fall]
Fred: We have no use for school achievements.
George: We have our O.W.L.s, so who needs N.E.W.T.s?
Fred: It won't be long before we leave this,
But first we've got to find some test recruits.

[in the Gryffindor Common Room, where first-years are sampling Skiving Snackboxes]
George: Pastilles!
Fred: They're good!
George: They're safe!
Hermione: They're not!
Fred: No harm in puking!
George: Nougats are tops!
Hermione: Nosebleeds!
Fred: So what?
George: They're fine!
Fred: You'll see!
Hermione: Not on your life!
George: What can you do?
Hermione: I'll write -
Fred: Oh, no -
Hermione: Your mum!
George: Not her!
Hermione: You need rebuking.
Fred: Now that's just low!
Hermione: One warning.  Just one warning!

[back at the Burrow]
Arthur: I think their tricks are funny, but my wife...
Molly: Those boys will never get ahead in life!

[at Hogwarts, spring of '96, as Fred and George make their grand exit]
Fred: I think we've had enough of education.
Time for our real lives to begin!
Students: Though we hate to see them go,
There's one thing that we know:
They are on their way to great careers.
Hermione: Unusual but great careers.
Students: They're on their way to great careers,
Those twins!

An Ode to My Favorite Easy Reader Lovebirds, Mr. Putter and Mrs. Teaberry

A couple years ago, I discovered the Mr. Putter and Tabby series by Cynthia Rylant.  Since then, I've read every book starring the kind, elderly Mr. Putter and his creaky cat.  They're beautiful stories.  They also happen to be incredibly romantic, as most of the stories also feature his next-door neighbor, Mrs. Teaberry, who's a bit feistier than Mr. Putter but every bit as lovable.  Their friendship is purely platonic on the page, and yet their love for one another is so genuine, it's hard to deny the possibility of a long-term courtship.  Inspired by my musings on this subject with fellow enthusiast Beth, I concocted this little poem that imagines Mr. Putter awaiting the response to a love letter to his neighbor that concludes with a crucial question...

Mr. Putter and Tabby Send the Note
Mr. Putter, all aflutter
As he scraped a pat of butter
On his toasted English muffin,
Muttered, "Tabby, it's a tough one."

Pensive chewing.  Plaintive mewing.
What was Mr. Putter doing?
Tabby sensed, with tail a-twitchin',
Trouble brewing in the kitchen.

Forehead wrinkled, Putter sprinkled
Sugar in his tea and crinkled
Up his paper as he wondered
If she'd think he'd badly blundered.

Hesitation.  Dread.  Frustration.
Such a bold interrogation
From an insecure romancer.
Had she read it?  Would she answer?

Doorbell ringing.  Angels singing.
Putter pondered fiercely flinging
Arms around her, so enchanting -
But beheld her bulldog, panting.

Good Zeke flopping down and dropping
Daisies with a dainty topping:
One note bearing just three letters.
Putter floating, flushing redder.

What a blessing!  No more guessing. 
Love confessed with "Y-E-S"-ing.
Over to her porch he ambled,
Giddy with his gutsy gamble.

There sat merry Ms Teaberry,
Neighbor, friend and sanctuary,
Beaming like a lighthouse beacon.
Putter's knees began to weaken.

Tabby purring.  Zeke's tail whirring.
Putter's dancing eyes were blurring.
He could manage just a mumble.
"Yes?" he ventured, stooped and humble.

"Yes," his seated sweetheart greeted.
With a kiss, her task completed,
Ms Teaberry all but shouted,
"How could you have ever doubted?"

A Boy Called Charlie Brown (A Heart in New York, Benny Gallagher / Graham Lyle)

I've had Charlie Brown on the brain lately, so here's a little ode to everybody's favorite blockhead, to the tune of Art Garfunkel's A Heart in New York.

A Boy Called Charlie Brown

Good grief! 
Standing at the pitcher's mound,
Charlie sees his team is failure bound.
Good grief!
He cannot control his pen,
So he'll have to start his letter once again.

Good grief!
He's been cruelly conned by Lucy.
He won't ever learn, will he?
'Cause he's the boy,
The boy they call Charlie Brown.

The boy Charlie Brown is hopelessly sweet
On someone he hasn't the courage to meet.
The boy Charlie Brown puts up a good fight,
But killer trees always capture his kite.

Good grief!
Well, a good man's hard to find,
But ol' Charlie is as kind as he's clumsy,
So here's to Charlie Brown!

Good grief!
When your life has got you down,
Be sure to think of the boy,
The boy called Charlie Brown.

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon (Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Johnny Marks)

Here's a silly little ditty about Hagrid's pet dragon Norbert to the tune of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon

You know Chinese and Swedish and Welsh ones are scary.
Horntail from Hungary tried to kill Harry.
But do you recall
The most fearsome dragon of all?

Norbert the ridge-backed dragon
Had a fire-breathing nose.
When the gamekeeper hatched him,
He ignited Hagrid's clothes.

All of the burns and scratches
Added up, and Hagrid knew
He had to banish Norbert,
Send him to a dragon zoo.

Then one balmy summer's eve,
Charlie Weasley said,
"Norbert's fine, and by the way,
It's Norberta, with an 'a'."

Hagrid was most astonished,
Crying in perplexity,
"Norbert the ridge-backed dragon,
How'd I miss that you're a she?"

Unhinging Hagrid

I have always been cursed with a very, shall we say, weak constitution. I've gotten carsick on the way to the post office before - and that's four blocks away. So I think I know just what Hagrid is going through when he boards that cart with Harry, and I'm guessing that he dreads having to make the trip to Gringotts whenever the need arises. I wouldn't want to go on that roller coaster either...

Unhinging Hagrid
Hagrid could handle a blast-ended skrewt -
Actually thought that the buggers were cute.
He never worried about getting germs
While he was digging for fresh flobberworms.

Norbert the dragon had lived in his hut.
He'd gently coddled a three-headed mutt.
Hagrid was puzzled by others' alarm,
Wondering why no one else saw their charm.

Big, hairy spiders excited to eat
Wandering students? He thought they were sweet.
No living creature, no matter how grim,
Bothered, befuddled or terrified him.

Yet Hagrid shivered as he slowly neared
Gringotts, for this place held something he feared.
No sword-like teeth and no fiery breath
Made Hagrid's face turn the color of death.

No killer claws haunted him as he stopped,
Clutching his stomach, which fluttered and flopped.
No spiky spine and no peaked pinchers loomed.
Still, Hagrid walked like a man who was doomed.

Once in the bank, as he silently shook,
Poor Hagrid followed the goblin Griphook,
Dreading the journey he knew would soon start.
Hagrid, unhinged by a rickety cart.

Vernon's Dream

Poor Vernon was having a very bad day in The Boy Who Lived. Here, I imagine him chalking it all up to a bad dream, until he can't deny it anymore...

Vernon's Dream

The most bizarre, disturbing dream
Assaulted me last night.
I thought, "It must be something that I ate."
What else could make the city teem
With sights that caused such fright
And left my mind in such a frenzied state?

It started when I saw the cat.
An ordinary beast,
Except... Since when do cats know how to read?
Well, what was I to make of that?
I didn't have the least
Intention of remaining. No, indeed!

I hurried on away from there,
But then what did I see?
A bunch of dodgy, closely clustered blokes
With scandalously unkempt hair -
Some just as old as me! -
All loitering about in colored cloaks.

And then, the lowest blow of all!
A fellow, barking mad,
Insulted me, I think; what did he say?
Ah, yes. The ruddy rotter called
Me "Muggle". Then he had
The gall to hug me! What a dreadful day...

The evening news reported birds
Were swarming in a host
Of wicked wings and evil beaks and claws.
To top it off, I know I heard
The name that I hate most:
The Potters, my degenerate in-laws.

Such fear I'd never felt before,
But still it didn't turn
Me inside-out or make me quail and quake
Until I opened my front door
And was distressed to learn
That all that time, I had been wide awake.

Weatherby (Let It Be, Paul McCartney)

Poor Percy, working so hard for Mr. Crouch in Goblet of Fire, and his boss can't even get his name right. Here's a little parody to the tune of Let It Be.

Weatherby

When the tournament is too much trouble and I lack the energy,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.
And when I see the Dark Mark and am shamed before the Ministry,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

And when I've been outsmarted by the boy who's out to ruin me,
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
I fear that someone's started to suspect I helped my son to flee.
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Yes, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Bartemius is rowdy, as disgraceful as a boy can be.
I would rather borrow Weatherby,
A young man to be proud of. Oh, why couldn't he belong to me?
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Oh, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.