The Adventures of the Crunchy Kernal Buccaneers

* * *

It was colder than usual in the dungeon; several Eminem look-alikes were frozen solid in the corners of the cells. Some of the more dirty-minded students believed that Snape let it remain so frigid in the dungeon for his own sinister purposes. But the real reason he kept it so cold was because his feet sweated so badly they formed puddles on the floor, so he let it freeze to avoid embarrassing himself in front of his boyfriend, Draco.

Anyway, today was the day that Professor Snape was going to unveil his new, homemade charm. The charm that would land him a position in the "Charm Inventors' History Book" forever. The charm that would not only change lives, but the very face of foreplay and ice cream sundaes as the wizarding world knew it.

* The audience gasps! *

The charm known as the Incredible, Edible, Everlasting Whipped Cream.

Grinning like a little boy in a candied raccoon shop, he pranced before the entire school (all crowded 'round the doors and squinted into the dungeon for this very important moment) and crowed gleefully, "I have an announcement to make! I have invented a fabulous new charm called The Incredible, Edible, Everlasting Whipped Cream." He waited with an expectant grin as everyone stared at him with their tongues hanging out.

Several moments went by before an anonymous person called, "Why would anyone want everlasting whipped cream?"

Snape wheezed, not understanding how a group of hormone-crazed teenagers could not see the benefits of everlasting whipped cream "There are - ahem - plenty of ways to use everlasting whipped cream! In fact, I know from experience . . . er, never mind." Snape blushed. "Right . . . now if there are any volunteers - "

Baco, leader of the Crunchy Kernel Buccaneers, leapt up in the back of the room and squealed in a nasally voice, "Me! Me! Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! Pretty, pretty, pretty please with armpit-hairs on top?"

Snape sighed. He had been hoping Draco would volunteer, but that was big fat hairy life. He gestured for the buccaneer to come forward. Baco pranced about, clapping his hands and singing, "Oh happy, dappy, crappy . . . day!"

Snape froze in his spot as he watched Baco leap and sing. He began to feel that strange, familiar, tingly feeling under his arms. His toe began to tap, and for several seconds he stood, tapping and tingling, trying to suppress his cheerful instincts. Within seconds, his instincts overcame his good sense and he leapt into the air with a yell.

Snape shook his bon bons, he wiggled his hips, he did a high split (flashing the entire assembly), and he even tumbled. He did it all; along with a cheer, of course.

"We are the Hogwarts Delinquent Cheerleaders with Cheerballs and we love to cheer, cheer, cheer! So don't leer or sneer, just drink a beer, kiss some squirrel booty, and be happy, happy, happy, 'cause we are the Hogwarts Delinquent Cheerleaders with Cheerballs!"

Snape ended the cheer with a split. He glanced up at the frozen and silent crowd and blushed. Leaping to his feet and dusting off his robes, he gave the assembly a bashful smile. "Sorry. I was a Hogwarts Delinquent Cheerleader with Cheerballs when I was but a - " his voice took on a retarded Irish accent "- wee spring chicken!"

Baco scampered to the front and stood wriggling around like a puppy, picking his nose in excitement. Snape aimed his wand at him and said, "Whippo Snapo Make Baco creamy yum-yum!"

Suddenly Baco was covered from armpit to kneepits with hot pink whipped cream. Baco grinned with delight and spread his arms wide. "Okay, ladies, come and get me."

There was another deathly silence, and Baco's gap-toothed smile slowly faded. "Minerva? Pansy? Winky? Weasels?" Each of the aforementioned damsels - and Pansy - turned their heads away and gagged.

Baco stood for several more seconds staring around, tears forming in his squinty eyes. "Alright, alright! If no one wants to lick my whipped-creamed body, then - then - then - they can just go and eat kangaroo toenails!"

With these harsh words he ran, sobbing; out the door, down the hall, and into his favorite place - the girls' bathroom.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron skipped merrily down the hall, arms linked, feeling at peace with the world. The oh-so-fab Harry had suddenly and miraculously devised a plan to end the evil hanky-pankying of Lord You-Know-Who-By-Now,-For-God's-Sake. How had his Royal Harryness devised such a plan, you may ask. Well, I will tell you.

They intended to capture Lord Who-Won't-Be-Named-Not-Because-Anyone-Is-Actually-Scared-But-Because-Not-Only-Is-It-Unneccessary-It-Would-Take-Up-Too-Much-Room. (Ah, the irony.) Anyway, they intended to capture Lord You-Know-Who and plaster his feet and hands together with yucky tuna salad. They would then wrap a very long anchovy around his nose, effectively cutting off the circulation (which would be very annoying, I'm sure). Finally, they would poke him with uncooked noodles while making him watch VeggieTales 24/7. He would soon go mad and commit suicide with a carrot that would be lying handily on a table beside him. (Isn't it obvious? No one can kill Lord Frog-Lips but himself. With a sharpened carrot stick, no less!)

So here were Harry, Ron, and Hermione, skipping down the hall without a care in the world - until they passed the girls' bathroom.

"Wait! Did you hear that?" Hermione cried, craning her knee-pits toward the bathroom door. They heard an odd crying and . . . slurping.

Harry turned towards his friends with that old familiar glint in his eyes. "Let us go help that crying, slurping person, putting me once again in the spotlight as the hero - even though I pretend to dislike it, you know I eat it up with a monkey-paw!"

He gasped as he realized what he had said, blushed, and stuttered. "Er, I mean, let's all go and help that person!"

Ron and Hermione (poor fools that they are, and not able to resist - who can? - his brilliant green eyes) nodded enthusiastically, and they burst into the bathroom.

"Who's crying and slurping in here?" cried Hermione.

A sniffle. "It is I, the Crunchy Kernel Buccaneer Leader, Baco." Indeed, it was. Baco had run to the bathroom to cry and lick his wounds. Actually, he was just licking the hot pink whipped cream because . . . well, darnit, it was good. What other reason do you need? Geez . . .

The trio opened the stall door and saw Baco curled on top of the toilet, vainly trying to squeeze himself into the toilet bowl.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Baco blushed and twisted his hair. "Well, it is just that - that - that - that - I have no sex appeal!"

Hermione immediately (out of good-mannered instincts) began to protest, "Baco! That isn't - well, actually - "

Baco howled. "It is! It is! Even my weasels refuse to lick the whipped cream off me - even though it is really yummy to my tummy."

The three exchanged looks, and as one they nodded. Hermione patted his nose comfortingly. "Baco, what you need is a makeover."

* * *

Harry led Baco under his Invisibility Cloak to the front of the full Great Hall. "May I please have your attention?" The hall quieted and Harry waved his arms and clucked for their attention. (This, as you can imagine, did so quite effectively.) "I have an announcement to make. I have, as I am Wonder-Dude Harry Potter, done yet another good deed! I have single-handedly - okay, okay, with a little help from Ron and Hermione - transformed a once sex appeal-less, you'd rather shag a hiccuping hippopotamus, buccaneer into a totally hot drag queen!" With that, Harry whipped off the cloak and there stood Baco, cowering in high stiletto heels.

Baco wore a skin-tight, leopard print jumpsuit. Hermione had stuffed socks into the top of the jumpsuit until one boob was about a size A and the other a double D. On his greasy head was a frizzy black wig, and he sported entirely too much makeup. Everything combined, Baco bore an odd and disturbing resemblance to Cher on a very bad hair day. Baco giggled nervously and gave a small wave. The hall erupted into an explosion of gasps. (Hey, what can I say? Hogwartians have bad, warped tastes.)

Boys gazed at Baco with love in their eyes, girls glared at him jealously, and the teachers could already tell that this was going to be a problem of serious slurping in the halls.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood back proudly, watching as their creation gave them a thumbs-up and pranced through the crowd, waving in a newfound queenly fashion. The crowd fell on him like just-voted-off-the-island guys on slutty Britney Spears, licking his whipped cream and fawning on his beauty.

* * *

The trio soon realized that they had created a monster. Baco even had a new (and actually very fitting) nickname: Booty-licious Baco.

Booty-licious Baco (or Booty-Boy, for short) was going through tubes of bright red lipstick and Mimi blue eyeshadow by the pound. He was also going on secret skanky panty and bra raids through the Slytherin girls' dorms. It was then that Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided that the madness had to end.

To Baco, however, it was a dream come true. The girls loved him. The boys loved him. His weasels loved him. He had, to put it simply, sex appeal . . . something he had longed for ever since he was the only little pirate boy in Buccaneer Kindergarten with pigtails. Now he had discovered the joys of makeup, getting slapped on the booty, wonder-bras, and chewing his nails sexily, to name a few. Yes, life was good for Booty-Boy.

Baco was thinking just that when he walked through the doors into the (yes, cold) dungeons. He shook his hips and watched happily as nearly every head snapped back to stare at him, including Professor Snape's.

Draco jumped up and howled jealously, "Snapey-puff!"

Snape looked duly ashamed.

Inspiration struck Hermione. It occurred to her that even cold-tailed buccaneers like Baco (or Booty-Boy, if you prefer) must be good at heart. She sprung to her feet and called out to Baco. "Baco! You should be ashamed of yourself. You've become a home-wrecker. You can't go about breaking up such . . . er . . . unconventional, but still quite . . . um . . touching relationships!"

Baco looked struck. His eyes watered, his lower lip trembled . . . "Wahhh! I never wanted that! I just wanted sex appeal. Maybe this went too far, and . . . and . . . to tell you the truth, this wonderbra is starting to pinch . . ." His fake-eyelashed eye twitched and he suddenly began to tear his clothes off until only his hot pink leopard print g-string remained.

Hermione paced. "You see, folks, the lesson to be learned here is that you shouldn't go turning yourself into a drag queen only to become a home-wrecker! You should become one only to be a Las Vegas showgirl, or if you plan on visiting a prison anytime soon."

Everyone agreed, and after Snapey-puff profusely apologized to Draco (a. k. a. Draco-dribble), all was well again at Hogwarts. Although Baco had lost his sex appeal, he had learned a very valuable lesson: always make sure you are wearing skanky, matching thongs and wonderbras because you never know when some sexy thang will see you in them.

Read? Review!

A/N ****** Ok, ok. I dearly hope that everyone liked my very inappropriate story. And if you were offended, don't be! The people I make the most fun of are the ones like the very best (it's a weird love-thing! Yes, I probably need therapy) I do not think that Draco or Snape is gay, so if you are offended at all the frolicking gayness, please don't be cuz I just think Draco and Snape as a couple is a funny concept. And most importantly, review and tell me if I should write another sequel, cuz I need encouragement to write another, because this is a lot of work!