Cheesley is a clumsy klutz,
who doesn’t have any guts.
No ifs, ands, ors, or buts,
Cheesley is a klutz.
Madman applied the Muffelous spell to his throat, then woke up Butterball. “Pat, what’s wrong with you? It seems like you couldn’t care less about this match!”
“Well, yeah, John. It’s not really even a sport. Grumblesnore’s just tricking these kids into cutting the lawn.”
“What are you talking about! You’re insane! The next thing you’ll be telling me is that pro football is fixed.”
Meanwhile, the unconscious Enchilada Johnson woke with a start when the smelling salt was applied under her nose, saying, “I want to ride the pony!” Faco was circling them intentionally with his lawnmower, making it difficult to hear themselves over the noisy engine. Harry continued to cut grass. Then she saw the scoreboard and started loudly chewing Ron out, “Ron, you dufus! We’re going to lose, and it’s all your fault! If you don’t keep the rest of those teeth up, I’m going to train a goat to replace you!”
Colin Creepy shouted, “Yeah, can’t you ….”
Ron’s furiously started choking Creepy. Butz and Stevens hauled him off. Then they all took their positions as Creepy shouted a long string of obscenities at Ron that would have made a sailor blush.
Meanwhile, the Popular Rich Kids were drinking Buggerbeer and pouring it all over each other in celebration. Satan was laughing like only the devil could. Then they took their places on the field for the game to resume.
“Welcome back,” said Madman, “What’s her face is back up, and appears to be able to continue. She hasn’t done anything so far. Maybe that blow to the head will improve her game.”
“I don’t know, it seems to me that Maldoy’s doing a much better job of cheating today than Putter. But that’s the thing, we never actually see Putter cheat. I mean, it looks to me like he’s playing fair, but I’m sure he must be tricking me. I think Maldoy might get caught cheating one of these times, but no way is anyone going to catch Putter.”
“The Whackers are going at it again, Butz on Foil, Stevens on Shabby. Stevens is really doing a job of Shabby’s hoverboard. I don’t know what’s holding that thing together still, with the weight of Shabby on top of it, you’d think it would have split by now. Well, there you go! Looks like Shabby’s done for today!”
“Creepy just shot himself with his slingshot. He’s dropped it.”
“Butz and Stevens are double teaming Foil. They’ve got the elastic of his underwear, and are giving him a painful looking wedgie. OOOOF! I wonder if they, yes, they make it an atomic one, as the elastic comes up and over Foil’s forehead. Umph!”
“Meanwhile Cheesley is under heavy fire again. Let’s take another look at some of the acrobatic saves he’s made so far today.” The big screen showed Ron hopping about like his pants were on fire, as he made numerous blocks in defense of his goal.
“Cheesley’s been amazing today, the Nerds are lucky that the score isn’t any worse.”
“Maldoy and Putter are now circling the field, they’re rapidly mowing down the last patches of grass.”
“And Bobby scores! He lobbed that one over Cheesley, arcing it just out of his reach. That’s a tough shot. You don’t know how hard it is to have that kind of finesse with a slingshot. Cheesley looks exhausted. It’s fifty to nothing as we head into the homestretch of this match.”
Cheesley is a no-good fink,
in Quibbage games he really stinks,
That’s what PRKs all think,
Cheesley is a fink.
“Putter and Maldoy are tied right now, and are circling the field. They’re looking for the last bit of grass, – that last bit of elusive grass. When they find it, the game is instantly over, not only that, but it looks like whoever gets there first is going to win this one. It all comes down to who wants it more.”
“Cheesley’s being pummeled again.”
“Now, this is where Putter really excels, if I owned a Quibbage team, I would want Putter on my team. Not only does he cheat the best, but he has really good vision when it comes to finding the Missed Spot. How often do we get into these situations, almost every time, someone’s out there cutting a lawn, and BAM, they miss a spot. Then they have to ride around searching for the Missed Spot.”
“In the past, Maldoy’s tried to keep close tabs on Putter. He tries to keep with him, and when Putter finds the Missed Spot, Maldoy tries to get there first. Big mistake! It’s cost the PRKs several matches. It always amazes me how close these matches can be.”
“Looks like Maldoy’s learned something though, this time, he’s circling around looking for it himself. Who knows he may get lucky.”
“Cheesley in the meanwhile has blocked everything the PRK guys have shot at him.”
“Putter veers, he’s spotted it, the Missed Spot! Maldoy, too! He’s heading for it, too. They’re coming for it from opposite sides of the field. This is going to be close.”
Hermione stood up and ran from her place in the stands. She licked her finger to test the wind direction, then adjusted a porta-john two feet over. She stood and held the door open.
“They are going to get there at just about the same time! I’ve never seen a match this close! Either one of them could get it!”
“BAMM! That was some collision. Putter went flying one direction, Maldoy the other. OUCH! Putter landed head first on a rock. Maldoy sailed headfirst into one of them, what do call ’em, portable crappers.”
Hermione pulled the handle, flushing Faco’s head, causing it to abberate to the Hogwashes cesspool.
Harry’s skull was badly fractured and he lay unconscious in a heap next to the rock he had landed on.
“The field judge is going to have a tough time sorting this one out! We’ll wait for her call.”
All eyes watched the field, even the school nurse, Ms. Pomfrite, and the local paramedics crew from St. Mongo’s, there just in case of injury. But, Ms. Smooch couldn’t push the two crumpled tractors apart. Their metal had twisted upon each other, catching, keeping the vehicles locked together. She called for Hasbeen to come pull them apart. A moment later, the huge man had pulled the tractor wreck apart, revealing a tiny patch of uncut grass underneath. Tabithaa Stevens casually whacked it with her trimmer, and the Nerds won 5 million to 50. It had been the closest Quibbage match ever.
Pat Butterball asked sarcastically, “Doesn’t the lawn look great?”
Tabithaa Stevens was swept from the field on the shoulders of the celebrating Nerds. Geek laughter reigned supreme that day. And the Popular Rich Kids vowed revenge, no way were they going to be shown up by a bunch of wimpy losers and let them get away with it.
Later that night, Gildersneeze Farthard and Hasbeen were casually walking the freshly mowed field, enjoying the smell of the cut grass, when they discovered Harry Putter. Harry staggered to the porta-john where he vomited upon sight of the headless body of Faco Maldoy.
Gildersneeze saw that Harry’s head was grossly misshapen and recalled the events of the early afternoon Quibbage match. He realized Harry’s head had been badly fractured. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he pointed it at Harry.
Harry, though it hurt his head immensely, protested, “No! NO!”
But, Gildersneeze didn’t remember what had happened the last time he had tried to mend a broken bone, and cast the spell the exact same way, deboning Harry’s head. Harry’s head was like a thick pudding resting on his neck. He tried to make a face at Farthard, but couldn’t. He tried to yell at Farthard, but only managed to gurgle out a thick raspberry. He was having a lot of trouble just breathing.
“You’re thertainly welcome.” Farthard replied.
Hasbeen dragged Faco Maldoy’s body to the hospital wing. Using his hand to hold his mouth open so he could breathe, Harry followed.
Chapter 11 - The Hospital Wing
In the school’s hospital wing, Harry was immediately given a bed. Tubes kept his nasal passages o
pen so he could breathe. As he lay with his head on a pillow, like a sack filled with Jell-O, he felt his eyes wobble with each of his heartbeats. It felt like he was on a waterbed. Luckily, he didn’t sneeze. If he did, he would have died, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. Luckily, he didn’t know that; if he did, he would have sneezed.
Instead, he lay there wondering where they were keeping all the Cheesecake-Obsessed children, the unfortunate ones who had been incapacitated after having eaten a cheesecake from the Chamber of Cheesecakes. He guessed that the hospital wing was too small to accommodate so many beds. There had been six incidents so far, seven, if you included Belch.
He found it hard to relax with Maldoy’s headless corpse in the bed opposite him. Mrs. Pomfrite, the school nurse, was taking care of Maldoy, but Harry couldn’t lift his head to watch what she was doing, even if he had wanted to. He figured she was embalming Faco, or what was left of him anyway. He wondered why she would take care of the dead when he was still alive, but he remembered the unintelligible gurgling flatulence that came out of his mouth whenever he tried to talk, and decided to just wait his turn.
He imagined Luscious Maldoy at the funeral for his only son. It would have to be a closed casket funeral, Luscious would never see his son’s face again, nor would anyone else for that matter. Putter didn’t hold any remorse whatsoever for the Maldoy family, they were known Fungus Eaters. He hoped the Ministry arrested Luscious at the funeral.
But at the same time, he felt bad for Faco, who had died a horrible death. There was no dignity in it. It would have been better if Harry and Faco had held a wizard duel to the death. Then Faco would have died with the respect his enemy deserved.
Faco’s death also meant Harry’s life would become that much more dull. Having a nemesis to plot against gave meaning to many of Harry’s days at Hogwashes for the past five years, six if you counted preschool. He also had spent countless hours in paranoia over how to put a stop to Maldoy’s own schemes, both real and as Harry imagined them. Yes, he realized, he was going to miss Maldoy. Cripes, how could Hermione be so insensitive?
Then Mrs. Pomfrite approached with the large bottle labeled “Numbskull Potion” and asked, “So are you ticklish, Mr. Putter?”
He remembered the last time when he had to regrow his right humerus. It had hurt a lot. He was in pain all night as the bone of his arm regrew. So why was she asking if he was ticklish this time? Confused, he tentatively replied, “A little.” Unfortunately, it sounded more like an extended burp.
“That’s good,” she explained, “this new ‘Numbskull Potion’ rather tickles. And it can be very bad if you are so ticklish that you move around while your skull is regrowing. So do try to hold still tonight. Try to sleep, if you can.”
She took hold of his lip and stretched his mouth open, a lot further than it would have been possible if he had a jawbone. Then she poured the Numbskull Potion down Harry’s throat. She let go, and his lip flapped back into place. His whole head wobbled out of control. Harry wondered about her bedside manner, it seemed a bit lacking. Oddly, the thought seemed funny to him. A chortle rose in his throat but as it escaped it sounded more like a raspberry.
Nurse Pomfrite pulled the curtain closed around Harry’s bed, then turned the lights out as she left.
If you were in the hospital wing that night, you wouldn’t have gotten much sleep. There was one other student there besides Harry, Justin Flinch-Retchedly. He was a Nerd who had been beaten up by Shabby, Foil, and a few other disappointed Popular Rich Kids. During the fight, Justin’s ribs had been cracked. Justin was kept up most of the night, at first with the noises of belches, raspberries, and gurgling, later with strange laughing and giggling, all coming from Harry’s bed. Harry was the only one who got any sleep. But even his sleep didn’t keep him quiet.
Maldoy complained, “Would you shut up! It’s enough to wake the dead.” He rolled over and covered his new head with a pillow.
Later that night, Harry could be heard eerily droning ingredients and their measures. One and a half cups of sugar, three eggs, one teaspoon vanilla, 32 ounces cream cheese, 1 cup sour cream. Justin Flinch-Retchedly and Faco continued to be kept awake by it at first. However, panic ensued among them when they realized the ingredients all belonged in cheesecake! They fled the hospital wing in great haste.
Word spread very quickly throughout the school in the wee hours of the night. Harry Putter is the Err of Slipperin!
Harry woke the next morning feeling greatly refreshed and very happy, like he had just been to the movies to see his favorite comedy, Rocky III. He yawned. Mrs. Pomfrite walked in to the hospital wing and was greatly alarmed to see the empty beds. Where were her patients? Checking on Harry, she drew the curtain around his bed away.
“Oh, dear!”
“What?” asked Harry, stretching.
“Let’s just say, apparently you are a bit more ticklish than you let on,” she replied.
“Huh?”
She got a hand mirror out of the drawer and handed it to him. She immediately began to fill a syringe, but he wasn’t paying attention to that, in his eagerness to examine his face in the mirror.
“Wow! I look ridiculous!” he laughed. “Good thing you’ll be able to straighten it out! Heh, heh, right?”
She administered the shot quickly, and just in time. As she shook her head no, in reply to his question, his scream of anxiety quickly dwindled to a whimper as he passed out from the sedative she had injected.
When Harry woke again, it was dark in the hospital wing. Bobby the elf was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a deformed ape skull. Harry felt maddeningly ticklish all over for just a second, then the feeling faded away.
“Hi, Bobby, what have you got there?”
Bobby held the strangely grotesque skull up and made the jaw move with his hand as he talked, like a ventriloquist. “Hello Mr. Putter, Sir! I’m your second skull, Sir! Your third one seems to be doing much better.”
Harry gave a short laugh. “I’m very thirsty, Bobby, would you get me a glass of water?”
Bobby’s eyes widened, “Oh, no, Sir, not water! Bobby mustn’t go near water!”
“Huh? Why not?”
“Water is very bad for an elf. Never get water on an elf, Sir! They become terrible, nasty, and dangerously fierce! Wild and uncontrollable, Sir!”
“Calm down, I can get my own water.” Harry rolled his eyes. “And people think I’m the drama queen,” he thought as he got up and went to the sink.
“Bobby came to visit Harry Putter. Bobby feels just terrible. Harry Putter is in great danger and is very lucky to be alive. When you are better, you must leave school before it is too late.”
It was obvious to Harry that Bobby was trying to get him to leave the safety of Hogwashes, and go home where he would be in the reach of his enemies. Obviously, this was Bobby’s original plan.
Harry finished drinking, threw his cup in the wastebasket, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and said, “Bobby, that crash was just an accident.”
“Oh, no sir! That accident happened quite on purpose, Sir. Someone cut the brake wire on your tractor!”
“Get out!” Harry gave Bobby a shove that sent him tumbling off the edge of the bed. “Who would do such a thing? Lord Moldyfart?”
“Thank you, Sir! No, Bobby did it. Bad Bobby, BAD Bobby! Please, Sir, hit Bobby again!”
“Stop it, I’m not going to hit you! Someone ordered you to do it, Bobby. Your new master, Lord Moldyfart ordered you, didn’t he?”
“Bobby doesn’t serve,” he paused, “doesn’t serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Smelled!”
“Who then?”
“Bobby, cannot say. Orders is orders. But master did not say that Bobby couldn’t visit Harry Putter, Sir. Bobby came to warn Harry Putter again. Bobby must make Harry Putter understand, next time he won’t be so lucky! He must leave Hogwashes!”
“Bobby, I never even tried to use my brakes.”
“Oh?….Well then, Bobby never cut them.” The elf
indignantly walked out of the hospital wing with his nose in the air.
Chapter 12 - The Heir of the Err
“Well, if you aren’t the Heir of the Err, then why do you suppose you were reciting cheesecake recipes in your sleep?”
“For the last time, Ron, I don’t know! I’ve never made a cheesecake in my life and while I may know some of the ingredients that are in cheesecake, any moron does, you know, I don’t know ALL of the ingredients in cheesecake, and I certainly don’t know what their measures would be. I think I was channeling. I think Lord Moldyfart was making a cheesecake, and I channeled him while he was doing it.”
Many students nearby overheard Harry, as he was getting a bit loud in his exasperation. Several of them bowed down in benediction at the use of the Fart Lord’s name.
Ron tried to figure out if he knew any of the ingredients in cheesecake. He felt like a moron for a minute, until he remembered that cheesecake must have cheese in it. He wondered what kind was used in cheesecake, “provolone? Parmesan? Ooh, probably Ricotta!”
Ron had asked Harry the same question the day Harry had gotten out of the hospital wing, and he was still asking it today, over a month later. It was mid December, the ceiling in the Great Eatery showed that yesterday, even though the sun was out, the sky was gray. The large room was a bit chilly. Grumblesnore, being the tightwad that he is, wouldn’t properly heat the school. Students wore thick sweaters to compensate.
Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes Page 12