CC #317: Week of December 27, 2009
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Harry: ‘Sir, have you ever heard of Post-It notes before?’
Harry: ‘WOW! That must have hurt!’
Dumbledore: ‘It turns out that the Weasleys’ ”Boom Quill” is actually explosive.’
Dumbledore: It really is a fascinating story, Harry.
Harry: Yes, I’m sure it is — but do you ever plan on telling me about it?
Dumbledore: Not now, Harry.
Harry: But, sir, that’s your answer all the time. What if you die and you haven’t told me? What if it’s connected to beating Voldemort?
Dumbledore: I’m sure Miss Granger will be able to tell you. She is, after all, the director’s favorite.
Dumbledore: ‘So, Harry, the moral of this story is… NEVER have Dobby deliver a George Foreman grill at two in the morning as a Christmas gift.’
Dumbledore: Check it out, Harry, my hand totally smells like chocolate right now.
Harry: *Leans closer to the blackened hand to sniff it*
Dumbledore: *Smacks Harry in the face* HA!
Harry: ‘Sir, I happen to have the number of an amazing manicurist…’
Dumbledore: ‘No, Harry… you’re meant to shake it, not breathe on it; have a peppermint.’
Dumbledore: It’s just a handshake. Here, let me show you.
Harry: Nothing’s happening.
Dumbledore: No, I need your hand first.
Harry: How is this even funny? It’s just a random reference to Pocahontas.
Dumbledore: It’s how we say hello.
Dumbledore: …and then, as the snakes were chasing me down the lane – and, believe me, they almost got me – I was able to forget the blinding pain and conjured up a truly fantastic killing curse that sent them all straight to the grave. And that is how this ghastly wound came to be, Harry.
Harry: …Right. You just got your hand caught in your George Foreman grill, didn’t you?
Dumbledore: ‘You see that, Harry? This hand is millions of dollars in state-of-the-art CGI gone to waste because it’s kind of hard to see and we really don’t draw enough attention to it in the film.’
Dumbledore: ‘This is what happens when you let Arthur show you something electric, Harry.’
Dumbledore: Harry, just look at this f$*(%ng hand. Now I can never become a famous chef or a pianoplayer or a supermodel or an actor or a flamboyant hairdresser…
Harry: Oh, I’m so sorry, Professor..
Dumbledore: Why? I don’t want to do any of that stuff any way. Apart from a flamboyant hairdresser maybe… Yeah, that would have been nice.
Dumbledore: Yo, slap me some skin, homie!
Harry: But, Professor, are you sure you know where we’re going?
Dumbledore: Harry, m’boy, I know the Underground like the back of my hand. *Stares at hand* Hey! That spot’s new!
Harry: Uh, sir…?
Dumbledore: *Sighs* You think you’re having a lucky day when you see a penny on the floor. I went to pick it up; turns out, it was a Horcrux…
Harry: That’s just unlucky, sir.
Harry: Sir, what’s wrong with your hand?
Dumbledore: Did I ever tell you, Harry, that I am also known as Michael Jackson?
Dumbledore: ‘Look, Harry: if I pinch this vein in my elbow, my hand turns purple!’
Dumbledore: Harry, you know that pretty girl you wanted to ask out?
Harry: *Nods* Yeah?
Dumbledore: Well, I got her phone number!
‘This, Harry, is the world’s smallest violin. It is playing for you for all of the times you complain to me about your dead parents.’
Dumbledore: And, on that corner, Harry, we have what the muggles call, ‘subway mugging.’
Harry: Should we help them?
Dumbledore: No, Harry. They have knives and our little sticks aren’t going to help us.
Harry: The wands don’t do magic?
Dumbledore: No; you just do a lot of acid.
Harry: Sir, what happened to your hand?
Dumbledore: Sit down, Harry. I’m going to tell you the truth.
Harry: Why is it that every time you tell me that you’re going to tell me the truth, you only tell me parts of the truth that don’t really even make sense? Even after you die, you still do that.
Dumbledore: So… what is it that you want?
Harry: I want the truth!
Dumbledore: You can’t handle the truth!
Harry: Hey, Dumbledore. *Notices black hand* Trouble with your Christmas turkey?
Harry: Alright, you win Best Scar competition. Your Coca-Cola logo beats my lightning-bolt scar hands down.
Dumbledore: Think that’s good? You still haven’t seen my London Underground map…
Harry: No. Thank. You.
Harry: What happened to your hand, sir?
Dumbledore: It is slowly turning into a blueberry, Harry. You see, Harry, I couldn’t help trying the gum when Wonka wasn’t looking. Thank God that Snape was able to stop the transformation before it spread beyond my hand…
Sir Michael Gambon: See, Dan, if you just write your lines on your hand, you never have to bother with this silly memorizing lines idea!
Harry: …Um, sir…?
Dumbledore: Yes, Harry?
Harry: What did you do to your hand?
Dumbledore: *Chuckles* Oh! That is quite a story. You see, I was visiting Hagrid the other day and, when he patted me on the back, I fell forward into the crate where he keeps his Blast-Ended Skrewts. You can imagine what happened next.
Harry: Really, sir?
Dumbledore: *Sighs* No. I got it caught in the barbecue at the staff summer party.
-Wizard of Oz
Harry: Frostbite, Professor?
Dumbledore: Oh, no, Harry, this is just from overuse.
Dumbledore: Harry, you took Divination, right?
Harry: Uh… yeah?
Dumbledore: Read my palm, Harry, would you?
Harry: Ugh, umm….
Harry: No, I’m coming with you.
Dumbledore: *Sigh* You have to get over your trust issues at some point, Harry.
Harry: You dropped me in a big puddle last time! How do I know it won’t be a volcano this time, or a manure heap, or…
Dumbledore: It’s true, Harry, my fingers do look rather grotesque – don’t they? – but they’re nothing compared to this trick elbow of mine. I knew I’d regret all those late night tennis matches with Gellert!
Harry: Sir… what happened to your hand?
Dumbledore: And that, Harry, is a story for another time.
Harry: So… you stuck your hand in for the toast too early again, didn’t you?
Dumbledore: ‘Sometimes, I go a little crazy with magic marker.’
Dumbledore: Harry, can you please read off what I have written on my to-do list? It seems I’ve been missing my half-moon spectacles for a few years now.
Harry: Sure, no problem. ‘Eat breakfast…’
Harry: ‘…Comb beard…’
Harry: ‘…Confuse Muggles by wearing Wizarding robes in London…’
Harry: ‘…Pick up Harry at train station…’
Both: *Agree* Check.
Harry: ‘…Tell Harry that a piece of Voldemort’s soul is living inside him and that I knew all along he had to kill himself to destroy it…’
Dumbledore: Oh – forgot that was there.
Harry: So, what are we doing here in New York?
Dumbledore: Well, the whole school voted and it’s been decided that you’ll be joining the cast of Wizards of Waverly Place!
Dumbledore: Don’t worry, Harry – Selena Gomez will be taking your place at Hogwarts. We think she’ll stand a better chance against Voldemort.
Harry: You do realize that Selena Gomez is a Muggle actress, right? She can’t really do any magic.
Dumbledore: You know, I really wish we’d had this conversation three months ago.
Dumbledore: Alas, Harry, she was very pretty. I’m sure I stole a wondrous night.
Harry: That’s okay, sir.
Dumbledore: I guess you’ll have to spend it with me. *Creeper grin*
Dumbledore: You know how a loaf of bread will eventually get moldy?
Dumbledore: The same thing happens to wizards after 157 years.
Dumbledore: ‘…and then, I said, ”If you like it, put a ring on it…”’
Dumbledore: Remind me to ask the Weasley Brothers to put warnings on their fireworks.
Harry: You should sue.
Dumbledore: You can haz invisible cheezeburger, Harry.
Dumbledore: How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood, Harry? Beat that!
Harry: Oh, that’s easy. She sells sea shells down by the sea shore! Beat that!
Dumbledore: The sixth sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick!
Harry: *Recites* The sixth shickth seek’s… aw, you’re good!
Harry: You bought a mini- London Underground map, Professor?
Dumbledore: *Wearily* Yes, Harry; people kept screaming whenever I lifted my robes to look at my own map.
Dumbledore: Rather horrible to look at – isn’t it, Harry?
Harry: I’d say ‘yes,’ but your hat is worse.
Dumbledore: Hullo, Harry. *Muses* You know, I haven’t washed this hand off since you last shook it.
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