“When in doubt, have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand.” (Raymond Chandler)
“Look out!” shouted Hermione shrilly while pointing and hopping from foot to foot.
“Wha?” said Harry and Weasel unanimously and also stupidly thinking that she might need to use the little witch’s room again.
“Mmmmph” mumbled Randalf the Russet Potato, who had somehow stumbled into Bumblebore’s lap, what with lacking arms for steadying himself and all.
“Garroff!” shouted Bumblebore irritatedly, having, seemingly, missed the ‘Look out!’ that Hermione had shouted a moment ago, and that the reader needed to be reminded of, since it occurred so long ago in the narrative.
“It’s Drano Fauntleroy coming through the terminal doors along with the Crabs and Boil and…oh no…he’s got a gun!” she shrieked.
Drano ‘Little Lord’ Fauntleroy, Crabs, and Boil looked resplendent in their Branchwater Security Agency uniforms. Branchwater, having been outsourced by the Bush Administration’s Transportation Security Administration to provide security at airports, was a subsidiary of KBR, a subsidiary Halliburton, who, in turn, were a subsidiary of Arbusto Energy and Dairy.
“A gun?” said Harry quizzically. “Don’t you mean a wand? We don’t use guns in the wizarding wor—”
“Freeze, slimeballs!” yelled Drano Fauntleroy.
Fzzzzwhzzzz. A bullet fzzzzwhzzzzed past Harry’s ear.
“Run!” she shrieked redundantly.
Hermione grabbed Harry and Der Weasel by the scruff of their scruffy necks and headed for the double-door—
“Did someone call me?” asked Bumblebore.
That’s double-door, grumbled the narrator somewhat irksomely.
“Oh, sorry. Carry on.”
After reading the previous thread of the story the narrator continued…
Hermione dragged Harry and Weasel through the DOUBLE DOORS [narrator looks around glaringly, daring any inane character to talk back] with the others watching before another shot rang out.
“Feet, don’t fail me now,” cried Bumblebore.
“Wha’ about my bloomin’ arms?” Randalf the Burnt Sienna (the narrator having used all the Russet crayon in the box) moaned piteously.
Bang (Whoops. Out of sequence. These things happen when all H-E-double-hockey sticks is breaking out.)
“Never mind,” yipped the Potato. He did the 100-meter dash through the double doors.
“Did we lose them?” asked Der Weasel as the group reformed outside near the curb.
“The white zone is for—”
“What now?” asked Harry out of breath. “They’ll be on us any time now.”
“Some great wizard you are,” sniffed Hermione discontentedly.
“Yeah,” Der Weasel chimed in redundantly. “Don’t even have a plan how to get us out of here, let alone to find the horcruxes.”
“Horcruxii!” shouted the others.
“Well maybe we could go over there.” Harry used his thumb to point at a hiding place past his shoulder.
Kerpow! Screeccccch ch ch ch. They all turned to see what had made the horrific and quite loud backfire and braking noises.
“Brilliant!” Weasel yelled enthusiastically.
There in the gloaming stood the Knight-Ridder Bus.
The door swung open and the attendant—
“Shun Standpipe!” piped Harry as he, Hermione, Der Weasel, Bumblebore, and Randalf the Orange clambered aboard. “I thought you were dead.”
“Nah,” drawled Shun. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to appear in a little read blog now could I?”
Shun Standpipe closed the door behind the group as Drano, Crabs, and Boil crashed into the door’s glass. “Where to?”
“Get us out of this scene,” screamed Hermione demurely.
“Okey dokey.” Standpipe put the bus in gear.