Harry Potter goes to jail.

Harry Potter groaned as he rolled over in his sleep, drool covering his whole mouth. The rough, hard concrete floor hurt his tush as he turned onto his back, and he yowled in pain. Harry jolted upright, his dreams about flying bananas and cars vanishing. He rubbed his behind as he inspected his surroundings. How did he get here? Harry wondered. He had been peacefully sleeping in his grandma’s house just last night. Harry shrugged. He was homeless, and had nowhere to sleep. If someone was going to let him have a straw bed, he wouldn’t care, as long as he could sleep. Just then, the door to the jail cell opened, and a mean, gruff looking russian bodyguard walked in. Harry started up at the 300 pounds of muscle, and shrieked in fear. He tried to run, but the russian blocked his path to the door. He grabbed Harry by the head, and tried to pluck him off the ground. Harry’s chubby body struggled to be lifted off the ground, and even the russian was having a hard time picking him up.

“Breakfast”. He grunted instead, shoving a skinny Harry outside, who had some how melted all the fat that had appeared on him.

Harry’s eyes went wide as he looked out of the jail cell door. Dozens of crosswalks spanned across the hotel, and lead to different rooms. They must have been for the butlers, of if the people renting the rooms wanted to get there fast.

Harry gasped, and he pulled out his feeble twig of a wand. He pointed it at the crosswalks, and screamed in a high-pitched voice: “Diffindo!” He shouted. All the crosswalks were cut in half, and fell to the jail grounds below. Now the hotel didn’t look like a prison! Harry grinned, and raced through the crowds of gaping prison occupants.

A weedy, linguini looking man approached Harry. His head twitched, and his hands moved restlessly. The man was shorter than Harry, who had a max height of 3 feet.

“Y–yuh wa-nn-na-a hee-llp-p me ex-ca-pe pr-ii-sson” Stuttered the man, who had a great smile stretched across his face. Harry looked at the man in disgust. A bunch of mean, buff, brutes surrounded the two. “Everyone! Fight in the bathroom!” Shouted one loudmouth. They all started chanting. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The linguini man pranced around the small circle, and brought in the power of Wu-Gu Magic.

The crowd got huge, and they all chanted the single word.

It was then that Harry’s tiny peanut brain realized what was happening. He yanked out his wand, and shouted like a madman, his voice deeper than a gorilla. “Avacado Kedavra!” A green light flew out of Harry’s wand tip, and shot toward the poor linguini man. It hit his chest with a THUD, and the man curled up and died. The crowd realized what happened. Their chants of “Fight!” wound down like a baby toy running out of batteries.

Harry smiled devilishly, and brought his wand out for the last time. He grunted “Die!” Everyone collapsed, including Harry. Then, each person’s head rolled off, chopping cleanly off.

The End.

Gru goes to jail

Gru was a grumpy old man. Ever since his heist at trying to steal the worlds biggest crystal, he had been serving his time in jail. And the sad part was, Gru never got the change to steal the diamond; the police knew what he was up to and met him at the bank, guarding the safeguard that contained a 3.6 million diamond. He had been escorted to jail, where he had his trail in six weeks. And now, he was cell-mates with a top-notch serial killer, who killed three butterflies, six worms, and eleven ants. Gru asked him how he had gotten in jail, and the seven year old replied that his “wooden bat had accidentely slipped out of his hand and hit the police man in the head”.

It didn’t sound like much of an accident to Gru. He told the boy he had tried to steal a 3.5 million dollar diamond, and then he ended up here. Then Gru burst into tears, bluberring about how he needed the diamond to support his family who supposedly lived on the street, and how he wanted to become a lawyer when he grew up. Gru was still blubbering about his poor family, when a guard walked in to the cell. Luckily, Seven Year Old had his wooden bat confiscated, or he would have killed the guards. One of the guards escorted Seven Year Old to the cafeteria, and the other one led Gru to the office where his lawyer waited. They talked about stuff. Ask Gru what they talked about, not me. I not in jail. After about an hour, Gru got up for lunch, ate a moldy bologna sandwhich, drank a cup of hot orange juice, and read a couple of newspapers. Then he went back to his jail cell, where Seven Year Old was hogging up the bunk-beds. There was a loud snoring sound coming from under the blanket. Gru guessed that Seven Year Old was taking a nap. Gru washed his face, and finished reading the magazine he had stolen from the magazine stand inside the jail. Then he woke up Seven Year Old and took the top bunk. Later that night, Gru heard a rumbling outside his jail-cell. He slid the blanket off and jumped down from the top bunk. Gru looked through the bars, an grinned as Bob, the yellow minion with one eye slipped out of the air vent. Bob grinned, and cheered, and his other freind, Mart, a purple crazed minion unlocked the door. Gru slipped out of the jailcell, but hesitated when he thought of Seven Year Old. Just then, Bob   jumped and down, and pointed down the hall. He looked very frightened. Gru heard distant footsteps. The Guards! They patrolled the hallway to make sure that no minions let out people from jailcells. Gru made up his mind, grabbed Seven Year Old, and escaped from the cell. They drove to Gru’s house in his rocket car, and had a party celebrating Gru’s escape from prison. And they lived happily ever after.