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Good day my fine friends today’s picture is not merely the usual result of e-trickery but tas the subject matter of a Master of oooooo! supernatural hocus pocus type trickery. At first cursory glance I thought twas just any, excessivly unruly, hairy headed juvenile exercising his, to be frank I thought, gluttonous number of pets but on wending my way nearer I realised twas that wand-wielding broom-bound boyish type the wizardly-wonder Harry the Potty or whatever. Well he was bravely nannying that tri headed beast, the however remote related offshoot offspring spawn of Cerberus the guardian of the underworld, well suffice to say I was a tad disappointed twas barely bigger than an average pet I had been, surely fraudulently, led to believe its stature was Titanic, why I swear when I evidenced it drizzling spittle on screen I had a perfectly rational fear of drowning for months. Well I bandied a tasty edible to bring about a distraction in order to settle a niggle with a query and to then hot foot it to a harbour of any type of safety. “Why yon young performing protégé! might I take advantage of this opportune moment to ask where’s that decrepit old dear Dumbledore, Why I heard a rumour recently that the old bounder was Gay well my flabbier was gasted beyond belief and I had my good self a pottery fest and viewed all those wonderful wizardly movies till my opticals were sore to a few shades of crimson hue but the blighters countenance never harboured more than the mildest smile and well lets just say to evidence about him a hearty guffaw or the cracking of a gag would be taking, me thinks, the twizzling of a few of those supposed trickery sticks and any way any such endeavour might best be spent in a twizzle to temper his undisciplined tresses and as time has not been favourable to his otherwise goodly self a face-over". Well suffice to say I branded the bearded bounder a charlatan as if he were the highly acclaimed master of such mystical means he would have brought all this purported jollity, a socially acceptable coif and the ridding of linear acticity amok his mush in a trice with his trickery. |