Week of May 11, 2008
Kronk: ‘Four-score and seven years ago, four Wizards brought forth on this continent, a new castle. Conceived in magic and dedicated to the proposition that all Wizards are created equal…’
One moment they were in the Andes Mountains, the next they were in Scotland. Kronk could never seem to pull the right lever…
A normal day of Squirrel School…
Kronk: ‘I see a castle.’
Students: Squeak squeakums, squeak squeakers.
Kronk: ‘Harry Potter is in the castle.’
Students: Squeaken squeak squeakes.
Kronk: ‘Harry Potter took my nut.’
Students: Squeeeeeak squeakers.
Kronk: ‘Attack Harry Potter!‘
Hagrid teaching Care of Magical Creatures, post-Atkins.
Harry: ‘Excuse me? This story is about me. Not him. Okay, you got it? We’re gonna move ahead, sorry to slow you down.’
Kronk: ‘Thirty-something teachers, about one thousand students and five hundred house-elves – someone’s going to buy some cookies!’
Kronk: And as you can see, right behind me is Hogwarts Castle, where I learned how to speak Squirrel. Top of my class in Care of Magical Creatures.
Random Kid: A squirrel isn’t a magical creature.
Kronk: …Shoulda seen that one coming.
Harry: *Watching from Astronomy Tower* Those Muggles are getting dangerously close to Hogwarts…
Hermione: For the last time, Harry, there are all kinds of charms around that prevent Muggles from getting to Hogwarts.
Bucky: Squeak squeak squeakun? (translation: Do I smell burning?)
Kronk: Oh! My Spinach Puffs!
Kronk: …And that’s the story of the emperor who became a llama.
Tipo: Now can you tell us the story about the boy who became a ferret?
Kronk: Ah, yes. The story of Draco Malfoy…
‘Now, when I call your name, you will come up here, and I will place the Sorting Chipmunk on your head…’
Snape: *Off-screen* ‘Squeak squeaken squeak squeaker’ is not a proper spell. Ten points from Gryffindor.
Kronk: But, I’m not even –
Snape: Fifty points!
The truth revealed: Dumbledore was thrown from the tower for throwing off Snape’s ‘Mysterious Ticking Noise’ groove.
Harry Potter’s New Groove.
Kronk: ‘My Horcrux is missing.’
Children: Squeak squeaken squeak squeaker.
Kronk: ‘Did you destroy the Horcrux?’
Children: Squeak squeak squeaker squeak squeak?
Kronk: ‘You owe me a new Horcrux.’
Children: Squeak squeak squeak squeaken squeaker squeak.
Kronk: I’m so porud of you guys…
Kronk: ‘Yes, children, I will be taking over the cooking job from the House-elves soon. Spinach puffs, fondue, and foie gras all year round! Mmmm!’
Kronk: And this, children, is Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
Random Child: Is that Yzma I spy in the castle?
Kronk: No, I’m pretty sure that’s Snape…
Kronk: Squeak squeaken squeak. Squeakedy squeak squeaken squeak ‘Squeak-Squeak’ squeaker squeak squeaken. Squeak, squeakedy squeakers squeak squeaken squeak. Squeak squeakedy… Squeak squeaker squeaken, squeak squeakedy….
Translation: And to your left you will see the an old, run-down building. No one knows much about it, but you can see from the ‘Danger’ signs that it would be, well, dangerous to try to get too close. Every so often, though, a scarlet train can be spotted traveling to or from a nearby village full of school-age children in odd clothing. That may be significant in some way, but I can’t remember…
Oh, well. Our next stop is in London, at an old, red telephone booth….
*Later that night, Kronk is sleeping under the stars next to a tent and suddenly sits up…*
Kronk: That building… in Scotland… It must be a school! That’s why the children go there! But why the strange outfits? Oh… I think I heard something about this…. Maybe it’s a school for wizards…. I bet they could help us get rid of Kuzco! YZMA! YZMA! *Gets up and runs to the tent*
*A new man appears, as if by magic, and points some sort of fancy stick at Kronk….*
Man: Obliviate! *Disappears*
Kronk: What was I doing again? Oh, I think I was looking for the little squirrel’s room….
Harry and Dumbledore look into Voldemort’s past…
Kronk: Squeak, squeakity… what comes next, Tom?
Young Tom Riddle: *sigh*… squeakers.
Harry: Wow, no wonder he became evil…
Kronk: ‘This is your headmaster, Professor Squirrel.’