Chapter 10: Nicebottom and Bondage

Harry was immersed in a letter of advice when he looked up to see what Professor LazyArrrs was droning on about. Something about nobody being here. "But I'm here!" said Harry. Professor LazyArrrs paid no attention and wandered off along the corridor to find more non-related work things to do to pass the time. About half an hour later, Professor Nicebottom appeared with a steaming mug of tea that he had just made himself. Harry was amazed. "Is that for me?" he asked, in wonderment. "Yes" said Professor Nicebottom, with a smile that was ever so slightly guilty (so it should be, being the first cup of tea that he had made in The Year of Our Pug 2006) and headed back to his desk.

Harry returned to his advice. It was a very interesting case involving a penguin, a flamethrower, a mad badger and an argument over a large bag of marshmallows. He decided that this complicated set of facts required the input of Professor Google, given that she had spent half of her training contract being supervised by a mad badger and knew all about how to handle them.
"Make them cups of tea Harry! Works every ti- HARRY - is that what I think it is? Did Professor Nicebottom make that cup of tea for you??"

"err, yes" replied Harry, "why?"

"Why, because that cup of tea is so rare that it is in fact a portkey Harry, a portkey that will transport you to Peking for an audience with Frank The Merciful! Nicebottom must need the assistance of the Great Pug..."

Peering into the mug, Harry and Google spotted what looked like a very small dominatrix trapped inside a fairtrade teabag, furiously waving a minature version of a very thick credit control report. Google went slightly pale.

"You must act very quickly Harry. We need to free and re-size Anastasia Bondage and modify her memory. I think Nicebottom was sending her to Frank the Merciful to be chewed up! He would never treat his credit control report with such contempt! What on earth has possessed Nicebottom?! - or worse, who?"

At the foot of the large multipack of Clipper Teabags, a minature Professor Nicebottom was wondering how on earth he had ended up in there. All he remembered was the sound of Professor LazyArrrs approaching, the crack of a wand and an evil cackle.....

Chapter 9: The Order Of The Pug

"Gosh," said Harry. I am all burned out this term!"

" That's because you are in the Order of the Phoenix Harry. And they are renowned for burning out before their time, " Said professor Google. " Don't worry though because you will soon get a new burst of energy. That's just the way of the Phoenix. Take Nicebottom. He's pitched for new business twice this year and as for Professor Whims well he's really on a roll. No stopping him and he still gets time to enrich our dull lives with lectures on the insolvency handbook. Indeed, it is a little known fact that the handbook is used by all Phoenix members. You read a chapter or two, soak in the Knowledge and then boom! Not able to take anymore and losing the will to live you explode into a shower of flames until the next time."

" I see, " said Harry. " I found this yesterday professor, right next to your chair. It took some finding though as your desk is full of old parchments and nonsense spells. I don't know how you do it." Google frowned but knew Harry was right.

Harry pulled a scroll from under his tunic and emblazoned on the front, in capital letters it read " The Limitation Case Plan Incantation.... By Clariol Raweena. The Order of the the Pug". Google looked shocked and Harry wondered what it was all about. There was a loud cracking noise from the far end of the library.

" Oh crikey," said Harry. " Nicebottom has exploded again. It must be the 60 page credit control Howler he received. That Anastasia Bondage really gets him down you know".

"Really," said Google. " Enough of that. Professor Bondage is only following the partnership faculties instructions so have a little more respect Harry.. Besides, I think you will find Professor Nicebottom had a Vindaloo last night which is suicide for a member of the Order of the Phoenix." Right then a very nasty smell greeted them both and Google literally turned green. " see I told you Harry. The Vindaloo with a touch of Naan I think. Peshwena by the odour if I am not mistaken!"

So what is the Order of the Pug Professor?" asked Harry.

"Oh please don't ask Harry. It is ancient and lost in history. Only a few of us remain. It is powerful and steeped in controversy. It used to be called the order of the Platex until they were all burned. Its members have to be female and its symbol is the sacred speaking Pug of Peking aka Frank the Merciful. But no more will I speak of this today Harry. You are the only male to possess any knowledge of this secret Order and I can tell you no more. Unless...... well unless you can persuade Professor Nicebottom to make tea for the rest of the term."

Harry knew what an impossible task that would be, and left the matter there. For now......

Chapter 8: Day 1023 in the Big Readzkaban Prison

Day 1023 dawned bright and airy. Inside the walls of Readzkaban it was a different, sweatier story. The air conditioning, temperamental at the best of times, had given up the ghost completely. The ghost (Lady Imelda Frostbite) was thoroughly bored of rattling around the pipes and had decided to devote all of her energies to making the third floor smell of wee and rabbit hutch. She was very effective.

Professor Google was delighted. After months of research she had finally worked out how to summon the Pointy Boot Of Pankhurst Past and was ready to unleash it on her unwitting colleagues. Professor Google was the first person in the office that day but she didn't have long to wait.

Professor Roberts was the second person to arrive in the office (in full pinstripe regalia). "Good morning chaps!" he said to Professor Google, "Have you seen the latest update to the Insolvency Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhh..................". His voice tailed off into a cry of anguish. The Pointy Boot Of Pankhurst Past had shot through the air, taken its deadly aim and booted Professor Roberts squarely in the balls.

Professor Google smiled sweetly. "Oh, Professor Roberts, you are funny!" she murmured, "You know full well that I'm not a chap!". Professor Roberts barely heard her because he was rolling around in considerable agony on the office floor.

Just then, Draco Malfoy arrived. "Morning-All-Right?" he said in his usual rhetorical wideboy fashion. "Certainly not" thought Professor Google, who cherished her leftiness. But for the time being she decided to exercise control over the Pointy Boot. Draco noticed that Professor Roberts was in tears and looked to Professor Google for an explanation. "No bananas on the fruit tray this morning" she fibbed, "and Land Registry Direct has crashed".

The post arrived, shortly before Professor Nicebottom usually got out of bed, at about 9.35am.

Draco's post contained lots of settlement cheques. He decided to announce each cheque separately to Professor Roberts, who had just about recovered and was trying to act normally. Professor Google had anticipated this and when Draco approached Professor Roberts' desk with cheques in his hand and an obsequious look on his face, she listened carefully to the following exchange, hand on wand, ready to strike.

"Professor Roberts, I've got a cheque in for £750!"
"GOOD MAN Draco!!"
"And I've got another one for £1,500 Professor Roberts"
"£1,500? Well done, GOOD MAN!!!"
"And Professor Roberts, I wiped my own bottom this morning"
"Wiped YOUR OWN bottom? GOOD MAN!!!"
"And I've got ANOTHER cheque in"
"ANOTHER CHEQUE? GOOD MAN!! What for?"
"Umm, it's for £2.50, it's been returned by the DVLA because I forgot to tell them the vehicle registration but it's still a cheque in!"
"What a SUPERB post tray, EXCELLENT WORK! GOOD MAN DRACO!"
"And Professor Roberts, with regards to marketing, I went to the opening of an envelope last night and with regards to that I did some serious arselicking for the firm and I found out that with regards to envelopes and with regards to clients, lots of envelopes are opened by lots of clients every day all over the world"
"REALLY DRACO? That is marvellous intelligence which I will be sure to pass on to the partners and excellent practice for your TRAINING CONTRACT Draco, GOOD MAN!"

Professor Google could restrain herself no longer, and as Draco sauntered back to his desk and Professor Roberts started to dictate a memo to Draco confirming what a good man he was, she cast two Pointy Boot spells. One Pointy Boot sped towards Draco and the other towards Professor Roberts. Both had been specially sharpened and set for extra kicking.

Professor Nicebottom arrived to find Draco and Professor Roberts rolling around on the office floor screaming with pain. They were doubled up and it looked as though they were being continually kicked in the balls by two very pointy boots. Professor Nicebottom initially thought that the whole team must be being attacked because Professors Google and Huffanfuss were both crying.

Without a second thought for his own safety, plucky Professor Nicebottom yelled "Expecto Patronum!!". A large silver gibbon shot out of his wand and tried to round up the Pointy Boots. Traditional patriarchal protective wizarding spells have no power against RFR* spells, and so the gibbon was only able to chase the Pointy Boots out of the office rather than catch them. On their way out the Boots attacked as many wizards and male muggles as they could, and delivered particularly venomous kicks to the Holy Testicles of Professor Holy J Nigel, who had caught their attention with his mid-life-crisis hair.

"Are you alright dear?" Professor Nicebottom enquired of Professor Huffanfuss. "Yaaaaaahhhhaaaahahahahaaaaa", replied Professor Huffanfuss, controlling herself with difficulty. "Ah'm fahn. Ah giss there mist be a new form of min-flu going around, hey!?"

"How about you Professor Google?" he asked, concerned that Professor Google was shaking and had tears rolling down her cheeks. "I think I'll be okay", gasped Professor Google, "I think I just need a cup of tea to calm my nerves". With that, kindly Professor Nicebottom headed off to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for someone else for only the third time in his life. Bless.

*Righteous Feminist Rage. RFR Spells are second only to the Unforgiveable Curses for sheer viciousness but research has shown that they are consistently well deserved by their recipients

Chapter 7: Professor Google Considers Existentialism

Existentialism differentiates itself from the modern Western rationalist tradition extending from Descartes to Husserl by rejecting the idea that the most certain and primary reality is rational consciousness. Descartes argued that humans could think away everything that exists and doubt its reality but that humans could not think away or doubt the thinking consciousness, whose reality is therefore more certain than any other reality. Existentialism decisively rejects this argument, asserting instead that as conscious beings humans always find themselves already in a world, a prior context and history that is given to consciousness and in which it is situated, and that humans cannot think away that world. It is inherent and indubitably linked to consciousness. In other words, the ultimate, certain, indubitable reality is not thinking consciousness but, according to Heidegger, "being in the world". This is a radicalization of the notion of intentionality that comes from Brentano and Husserl, which asserts that, even in its barest form, consciousness is always conscious of something.

Professor Google's consciousness this week has consisted of:

Tuesday: Oh Dear God (which, BTW, Prof Google does not believe in, and neither do existentialists) It's All Gone Horribly Pear Shaped;
Wednesday: Still Pear Shaped;
Thursday morning: More Pear Shaped Than A Very Pear Shaped Pear;
Thursday afternoon: Pear Drop Vodka Might Help;
Friday: This Country Has Gone To The Dogs (not at Catford either);
Saturday (3am): I Was Trying To Sleep But The F***ing Cat Jumped On My Head

Glory glory Wikipedia and Saturdays

Chapter 6: The Hunt For Professor Google's Familiar

Last spotted worrying some basil, Professor Google's ridiculously pampered and much loved familiar has disappeared. It is 2305 and past both of their bedtimes. Professor Google is highly unimpressed.

And just because noone will bother to read this and because "there are errors" with the java publishing wotsit:

SH*T F*CK B*LL*CKS AAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHH

f*cking cat
f*cking internet

Chapter 4.5: Professor Google Gets Very Fed Up of Writing This Blog All By Herself

and is now on strike.

The strike includes tea making.

So there.

Chapter 4: Professor Nicebottom, The Easily Forgettable Spellcasting Language Filter And The Awkward Audience With Drew Dumbledore & Madame Pepe

Friday dawned bright and clear. Professor Drew Dumbledore sat at his computer pondering the intricacies of his latest draft of the Minutes for the Ministry's Bored Meeting. Madame Pepe, the Team Witch, Wizard, Elfish Resourcing Personage, had just returned from a most insightful meeting with Broomstixs R-US and was settling at her computer ready to regale the staff of Hogfarts with unwanted details of the latest discounts.

Suddenly, the peaceful atmosphere of the office was shattered with loud shrieks of "FUCKWIT!!!!!"

Drew Dumbledore immediately fell off his chair and landed in a pile of buff coloured files which began to attack him. Madame Pepe screamed and promptly fainted. The Smugger shot off to the kitchen for a large glass of cold water, lobbed the lot over her and resumed its loud, relentless, offensive cries.

Drew Dumbledore happened to be wearing his spectacles, having given up attempting to get on with lensus contacticus (or more accurately, trying not to rub them out of his eyes when yawning - yawning being something of an occupational hazard when drafting Bored Minutes). Through the flurry of battering screeching files he thought he could just about make out four familiar faces (albeit flickering behind a dazzling array of obscene hand gestures). "SuperTed?" wondered Drew Dumbledore helplessly before Professor McGonagle banished the Smugger with a sharp crack of her wand.

Three hours, one awkward interview, seven rants, five door-slammings and four cups of tea later, Professor Nicebottom had just about calmed down enough to make it to the pie shop for lunch with Professors Chav and Google and Harry. "I can't f*cking believe it!" he raved, in a very un-SuperTed-like manner. "Exactly how am I supposed to know that Smuggers would be caught up in the f*cking Spellcasting f*cking Language f*cking Filter and sent straight to Drew Dumbledore and Madame f*cking Pepe instead of to Marcus Floppynob? And as for those f*cking broomsticks - Harry, I don't mind telling you that I almost told Madame Pepe where to shove them. And why, WHY hasn't anyone f*cking well told f*cking Madame Misery and Daffyd Wellllthatsnothowitworkssee about Smuggers? How am I supposed to do my job properly when I'm surrounded by f*cking idiots?"

Professor Google, fearing for young Harry's innocence and knowing that the Pie Serving Elves are of a generally sensitive disposition, quickly cast a Memory Modification Spell followed by an Obscentity Substitution Spell on Harry and the Elves and smiled as a flurry of flumps, flumping, flumpers, flump-me's and wonkers issued forth in between mouthfuls of pie.

Chapter 3: Professor Nicebottom Triumphs (Again) at the National SuperTed Lookalike Competition

"This is a story about an ordinary wizard called Tedward Crumblybun. When Tedward arrived at Hogfarts they found something wrong with him (Professors Google and Chav can't possibly imagine what unless it involves working a kettle), and sent him off to be a lawyer, into an old dark office where he was forced to listen to Professor Roberts droning on and on and on and on and on and on about the joys of Insolvency Law. The droning got so bad that poor Tedward was forced to escape to the car park for a quick fag. In the car park a spotty man offered Tedward some cosmic dust. He took the dust and flew off to a magic cloud where Mother Nature gave him special powers. When he returned from the cloud (three days later with a banging headache and in a thoroughly bad mood) Tedward had become Professor Nicebottom."

Professor Nicebottom has a lot in common with SuperTed and it was only right that the esteemed Professor should win the National SuperTed Lookalike Competition for the thirtieth year running.

Congratulations Professor Nicebottom!!