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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Story Tale

HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN by Steve Kloves

I would've left him with the
others, but he pines so when I'm
away. Don't you, darling?
Aunt Marge puckers her lips at Ripper and leads him down
the hallway. Harry follows with Uncle Vernon.
Don't say 'yes' in that ungrateful
tone. Damn good of my brother to
keep you, if you ask me.
(to Vernon, Petunia)
It'd have been straight to an
orphanage if he'd been dumped on
my doorstep.
Just then Dudley -- sitting comatose before the TV --
emits a HOLLOW, BRAIN-DEAD CHUCKLE.
Just a small one. A bit more... a
bit more... That's the boy.
(taking a
sloppy sip)
Aah. Excellent nosh, Petunia.
It's normally just a fry-up for
me, what with twelve dogs.
She smacks her lips, lowers her brandy, and lets Ripper
take a slobbery lap out of the glass... then catches
Harry looking.

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