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Hi, my name is Idris
Yale
Riddle
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 | Cliched and Perfectly Plot-Punctured--1-- |
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 4.87 with 15 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-05-25 11:57:07 |
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A Clichéd and Perfectly Perforated Plot-Punctured Story
Prologue: Things we do when we’re young
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Some of you guys may not know this about me; though I talk about it quite a lot: I have Attention Deficit Disorder. It’s something that probably isn’t that surprising to you if you’ve ever tried to hold a conversation with me. I tend to drift onto tangents I probably didn’t even know existed before I started talking about them. My brain is wired differently than it should be, abnormally you might say. And I’ve tried medication for it; I’ve tried a couple of types, but nothing ever really changes. My mind just does what it wants no matter what color of pills you feed it.
Over the years I’ve grown pretty good at coping with this disorder; I make good grades in school and I have plans to go to college right now. I usually will do my homework and have it finished in time to turn in if you tell me what I’m supposed to be doing. I know what I want to do with my life. I’ve adjusted to my own strangliness. But I wasn’t always so insanely clever and well adjusted. That’s actually a pretty recent development.
Before I was diagnosed officially with ADD, I was pretty crazy. I was one of those kids that teachers especially dislike because I was smart, but I never was able to get around to doing homework so my grades were bad. I was smarter than a lot of the people around me in my classes, because I never made the kind of grades I needed to get moved up to the more advanced classes, where I probably should have been. I went through middle school with this feeling of never quite fitting in. It was the most frustrating thing. Basically, I was coping with a lot of stuff and I would get really angry and frustrated with the world. I wanted to lash out, but I couldn’t. Not towards my friends because I had so few of them and I wanted to keep them so badly. So often because I couldn’t do it in person I would express this frustration through writing. I was sarcastic, I was silly, I was random. It was wonderful. If I’ve ever shown you some of my writing from those years you know I wrote some really strange, absurd stuff. I’d like to say it was a phase, but I don’t think I’ve stopped writing nonsense; I’ve just gotten better at it.
But this long introduction is probably boring you. What I’ve got to share with you today is a story I re-discovered the other day and thought was worth sharing. I wrote it when I was 13 or 14. It’s a fanfiction; one of my obsessions in 8th grade (one that’s not quite faded) was Harry Potter. I’d like to think it’s no typical fanfiction, however. It’s a parody of—well, just about everything fanfiction. The Anti-fic. This story was also the one that spawned that wonderful, horrible, infamous character Idris Yale Riddle. My darling figment.
Anyways, I thought you guys might appreciate it. I still think it’s pretty funny. It’s mostly unedited, although I have fixed some things that I did then (like pointless alliterations in the middle of chapter two!) that annoyed me now, but other than that it’s pure 13-year-old sarcasm.
Enjoy.
--0Rii
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Chapter 1: The Commencement
By Orii
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
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She snorted, closing the window on the computer that held the fanfiction story about Voldemort’s daughter. Always a daughter for Voldemort, never a son, she wondered why a little, but decided it was because, unless you made Harry gây (something many people had not hesitated to do, we might add), he really couldn’t fall in love with Voldemort’s son, and besides, most boys who weren’t in a manga didn’t have long black or red or brown or blonde, or multi-colored hair and curves in all the right places. Come to think of it, she didn’t know any boys, in manga or not, who fit the latter requirement. Still, all that aside, she had never really read any stories about Voldemort’s son.
So she wrote one, and it was sarcastic and full of plot holes. Then she put it up on the same website where she’d seen all the other clichéd and perfectly perforated plot-punctured stories. It was nice to add yet another to their ever growing numbers. Ten years later, they found the story on the floor of her room, and after digging it up the rest of the way, presented it here for your general amusement. Here it is:
The Dark Lord Voldemort smiled down at his newborn son. He was ugly, bald, and pale with bright red eyes, snake-like nostrils and no teeth. The baby was bald too, but other than that he looked all right.
“I shall name him Yaphet Yale Riddle!” Announced the Dark Lord, who seemed to have forgotten his nastiness along with brushing what was left of his teeth.
“Why that name, milord?” asked an anonymous Death Eater whose only purpose in the story was to ask the Dark Lord that question.
“Well, besides the majestic sound, it means ‘Handsome Mountain Goat’ and that is precisely what I want my son to be!”
“Handsome?” asked another death eater, wondering if it was possible for the child to even be accepted as a normal person with half his DNA coming from such an ugly human being. But of course he valued his life and so did not say this out loud.
“NO!” thundered Voldemort “A mountain goat! He could spear my enemies with his horns and climb on rocky ledges, though it couldn’t hurt if he inherited my stunning good looks as well!” the pale man stroked his milk white chin in a sickening way.
“He’ll be teased!” said Lucius Malfoy, who had been lurking not too far away during this whole conversation. “Give him a good name, like the one I gave my kid: Draco! Nothing nasty rhymes with Draco.”
Voldemort snorted sinisterly “Can you think of a rhyme for Yaphet?” he inquired raising the skin that had once been occupied by his left eyebrow.
“No, but what I’m saying is that he needs a name that’s more...normal.”
“Fine!” shouted Voldemort “His name shall be Idris Yale! That means ‘Fiery Mountain Goat’! It’s even better because then I won’t need matches to be a pyro-maniac!”
“You didn't need matches before, you have a wand milord.”
“Shut up!”
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