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Harry Potter and the Magic of Puberty

by Nick Jezarian

Everything was going swimmingly for Harry Potter while he was at Hogwarts until he hit what would be the equivalent of the 10th-grade for a Muggle. During Harry’s second semester that year, he began to develop what we Muggles refer…

Harry Potter and the Bitch Ex-Wife

by Geoff Wolinetz

“All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Albus P. Dumbledore presiding.” The entire courtroom, including Harry, Hermione, and their lawyers, stood as Dumbledore walked through a door and up to the bench where he was to preside…

Advertise Here

by Nick Jezarian

AdAge had an article just the other day talking about how major advertisers can’t control the online space like they’d want. They’re busy wrestling with the hard-to-control content. Ohhhhh, aren’t they strong. Actually, they are. If they can force a…

We’ll Be Right Back after a Quick Word from Our Sponsors …

Hello Y.P.R-keteers! We just wanted to poke our heads in the room for a moment to let you know that Y.P.R. will be back with brand-spanking-new content on August 15, 2005. For now, please peruse our copious archives of content…

Polish Fact

Poor Poles
Population living below the poverty line
18.4% (2000 est.)
(U.S.A: 12.7 [2001 est.])

Learn a Foreign Tongue!

Learn Français!:
Quoi-ques; évidemms; ainsi bourdonnz.
Whatevs; obvs; so buzz.

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Monday, August 15, 2005   |    Fiction

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Meet Prince and the Half-Baked Potter

by J. M. Houk

H.P.: Hi, there. I’m Harry Potter and this is my friend, Prince Harry. His mother was Princess Di. He doesn’t really look much like Prince Charles, which has led to some discussion about whether he is actually Prince Charles’ son. The joke around Windsor Castle is that he’s the “Half-Blood Prince.” Dumbledore knows the whole story and he’s made cryptic remarks that Prince Charles is Lord Voldemort. He’ll probably make me risk my life in book seven, jumping through all kinds of ridiculous hoops, trying to figure it out. I can hardly wait, sheesh.

P.: Nice to meet you. I’m Prince. My real name is Prince Rogers Nelson . On my 35th birthday, I decided it would be cool to change my name to an unpronounceable symbol: O (+>. I thought that was cool, until it became complicated every time I had to write a check. It was such a drag having to pull out my photo ID and explain the whole symbol thing. I finally decided it was easier to use my name than to basically go through a Spanish Inquisition at Safeway every time I wanted to pay by check.

H.P.: Wow, you really do your own shopping at Safeway? Dumbledore insists on doing all the shopping for Hogwarts, but says the police hassle him all the time. They think he’s a homeless person.

P.: Let me introduce you to my friend, John Wedgewood. He worked at his family’s famous pottery factory in Stoke-on-Trent, in Staffordshire, England, but just couldn’t cut it and was fired by his own mother. He couldn’t stand the heat of the kilns, so he turned the temperature down to keep from perspiring all day. Most of the pottery he produced never cured properly and looked a lot like the melting clocks and dishes in Dalí paintings. As you can imagine, his family referred to him as the “Half-Baked Potter.”

H.P.: I like Dalí. Maybe there would be a market for that kind of stuff on eBay?

P.: I’ve got a better idea. You could use his plates and dishes as place settings in the Hogwarts dining halls in your next movie. We could make some real money by licensing the deformed place settings for sale as a “purchase with purchase” at Burger King or Mickey D’s.

H.P.: Sounds great. I’ll have my people call your people and set something up.

P.: Looking forward to working with you. Nice meeting you, man. Here’s a copy of The Watchtower. I’m a Jehovah’s Witness now and have to meet my weekly quota of getting out the Word.

H.P.: Gee, thanks, but I’m already involved in some really heavy and complicated religious issues of my own right now. The new pope thinks my stories are inspiring Satanism. He’s obviously been sipping too much chalice wine. Nice meeting you, Prince. Loved “Purple Rain.” Whatever happened to Morris Day and the Time? They rocked. I’ll tell my people to expect a call from your peeps. Keep it real, man.

J. M. Houk resides in New Hampshire with her human and four-legged family. When not raking leaves, she's shoveling snow or swatting mosquitoes. She spends her spare time trying to figure out how to perform rhinoplasty on the Old Man in the Mountain so that he doesn't have to suffer any longer from the Michael Jackson absent-nose syndrome.