Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes (18 page)

            Just then, Ron started singing and strutting, “I’m coming up, so you better get this party started!”  It was really distracting.

            “Zip it, Ron, I’m trying to concentrate!”

            He thought, “Next line.  Why would he wear his undergarments.  HIS!  It had to be a guy.  It couldn’t be Hermione!  It had to be Ron, Humphrey the Wise and Mystical, or Paul Hogan.  Next line.  Covered with the fuzzy varmints.  Fuzzy varmints could be rabbits.  Who do I know who has a rabbit?  Ron had a rat, Scrabbles but Scrabbles turned out to be Vermintail, a servant of the Fart Lord, and ran away, but rats ARE fuzzy varmints.”

            Another cough from Ron, caused Harry to look up again.  This time Ron had his pants down, and was waving his butt around.

            “Cripes, Ron, quit it!  How am I supposed to solve this riddle when you keep acting like a complete idiot!”

            “Next line.  But one question stands out above the others, leading to the final question, why would he wear underwear this color?  What color is it?”

            Harry sighed, “Ron, do you know the answer?”

            “I’ve been trying to tell you the answer for the past five minutes.”

            The sphinx interrupted, “No cheating!  Your friend can’t tell you the answer!”

            “Can he give me a hint?” asked Harry.

    “Well, I suppose, you are Harry Putter after all, we can’t expect you to stick entirely to the rules,” conceded the sphinx.

            Ron asked Harry, “Remember that weirdo in the mansion?”

            “Yeah.”

            “He made a prediction, remember?”

            “Yeah, the next super bowl winner will be the NY Giants.  I already called my bookie and placed a ten galley bet on ‘em.”

            Ron buried his face in his hands, “Keep going.”

            “Something about plastic.”

            “Keep going.”

            “Ron Cheesley wears pink fuzzy bunny underwear.”

            “Yes!”

            The sphinx hit the button and the bar raised to let Harry Putter walk past.  She chuckled to herself as Harry and his friend walked down the hall into the next room.  Then she slapped her paw on the intercom button and said, “This is Ernie calling Bert, come in Bert.  Over.”

            A moment later, “Bert,” buzzed in, “Bert here.  Yes?”

            “Target has just passed checkpoint B.  Over.”

            “Excellent!  Good job, Ernie.”

            “Really?  You think so?  Well, I can’t tell you how much that means to me.  Hearing you say that, well, it really makes my day!  What a rewarding experience this job has been.  So much opportunity for personal growth.  Why, I tell you…”

            Ron and Harry walked down the hall into the next room, where the next cunningly devised trap awaited all who might attempt to gain entrance to the Chamber of Cheesecakes.  They entered the Bingo Hall.  Inside there were many people who had made it this far in their endeavor to reach the elusive room of cheesecakes.  Those who had braved the peril of Skippy the Poodle and correctly answered the Riddle of the Sphinx, now sat around with numbered cards in front of them, waiting for the next number to be called.  Some of them were skeletons covered with cobwebs.  Some of them were asleep.  They spotted their roommates, Spleen Davis and Shameonus Finnigan.  Professor McGooglesnot was also there, playing nine cards and smoking like a fiend. 

            A ghost that Harry and Ron had never seen before was calling out the numbers.  He cried out, “B1.”  McGooglesnot covered B1 on two of her cards with a chuckle.

            Harry went to the pile of cards, and searched for ones that had B1 on it, he took one for himself, and one for Ron, and grabbed some bingo chips, waiting for the next number to be called out.

    “N34,” called the ghost.  Neither of them had N34 on their cards.

            “What are we doing?” whispered Ron.

            “Playing bingo,” Harry whispered back.

            “I know, but why?”

            “It must be our next test.  If we can win, maybe we can move on.”

            “O67”

            Ron covered O67 on his card then waited for the next number.

            “Z194”

            “Z194?  That’s not a real bingo number!”  Ron complained loudly.

            “Hush up, Cheesley, I want to hear the next number!” retorted Professor McGooglesnot.

            “YY39,189”

            “Harry, I think this is going to be a long game,” said Ron looking around the room.  “How can we speed this up?”

            “Let’s cheat!” whispered Harry.

            Ron and Harry pulled out their quills, and as the ghost called each number, they wrote them down on their bingo card in a row.  On the fourth call, they each wrote down PPP4,367,147 and cried out, “BINGO!”

            Professor McGooglesnot scowled, “Beginner’s luck.”

            The ghost came over and checked their cards, and declared them winners.  They were allowed to pass through the next door.

            They followed the corridor beyond the Bingo Hall.  There were no doors to either side, and very soon they came to a yellow wall of cheese blocking the way.

            “That’s odd, you don’t see a wall made of cheese every day,” said Harry.

            “I hope this means we’re getting close to the Chamber of Cheesecakes,” Ron replied.

            “What kind is it?”

            Ron put his nose up to it and smelled.  “I think it’s mozzarella!  My favorite!  I’ll eat the whole thing.  But when he tried to gouge a piece from the wall with his finger, he couldn’t.

            “Try to take a bite, but be careful, don’t break your teeth.”

            Ron tried to take a bite gingerly.  His teeth sunk into the cheese, where his fingers couldn’t. He chewed a bit.  “Yuck, it’s cheddar!”  He tried to spit it out, but couldn’t, he had to swallow it.

            “Start eating your way through.”

            “Why do I have to eat it?  Why can’t you?”

            “Well, you are a Cheesley after all, aren’t you?”

Forty-five minutes later Ron clutched his full and extended belly and groaned again.  “Ugggh, I can’t go on!  I’m stuffed.  I can’t even move.”  It was his third time stopping, only this time, he sat down, and leaned against the wall of cheese.

            “Come on, Ron, you’re almost done,” pleaded Harry.

            “Ugggh!  Harry, you’ll have to go on alone.  I can’t make the hole big enough for me.  You’ll have to squeeze through the hole I made.  I think it’s big enough for you, you’re skinnier than I am.”

            Harry looked at poor Ron, he was almost green from eating so much cheddar cheese.  “Don’t worry Ron, I’ll send for help once I get out of here.”

            “Good luck, Harry!”

            It was a tight squeeze, but Harry made it through.

            On the other side of the cheese wall the air was dark and cool.  Harry, alone now, lit up his wand once more, and then followed the passage to another door.  He opened it wondering what he would have to face next, a dragon perhaps?

            No.  There was no dragon inside the tackily decorated room.  The room was oriental in style, with rice paper walls and plastic flowers in large vases.  It was illuminated by intricately painted paper lanterns.  The furniture looked like it was from the seventies.  There was a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table in one section.  The other side of the room was a kitchen nook.  The little kitchen had a table and a counter with a sink and a coffee maker.  Under the counter there was a mini refrigerator.  Nearby, was a water cooler.  There was also a door, opposite Harry.  However, no cheesecakes were in sight.  Harry started for the refrigerator.

            Suddenly two large ninjas burst through the rice paper walls, one of them expertly swinging nunchucks, the other drawing knives.

            “Gulp, Ron?  Hermione?”

            Then a third and smaller ninja burst through another rice paper screen.  He was holding a spear. 

            “Neville?”

            The two big ninjas started to laugh.  Harry thought he had heard that laugh before.  Then the smaller ninja pointed at him and said, “Looks like we have you now, Putter!”

            It was the voice of Faco Maldoy!

            “Faco!  Shabby!  Foil!”

            “None other!  Surrender Putter, or prepare to duel!”

            “Don’t you mean prepare to die?” asked Harry, his wand at the ready.

            “Die, Putter?  Do you know how much trouble we’d be in, if we killed you?  Don’t be stupid!  Hey, guys, let’s shave his head bald!” replied Faco.  Shabby and Foil laughed.

            “You’ll do no such thing, boys,” sneered Carnivorous Ape as he appeared in the doorway opposite.  “Good work boys, you finally caught him.  That’s an extra twenty points for the PRKs.  Now, it’s time for you to hit the Jacuzzi.  Head back to the PRK spa room.”

            The three PRKs headed for the door behind Ape.  Harry started to follow.

            “Not you, PUTTER!” yelled Ape.  He paused, then said, “Well, well, well, it looks like you’ve really stuck your neck out this time, Putter.  You put it right on the chopping block, and now you’re going to be expelled!”  Ape laughed.  “Hand me your wand, Putter!”  He held out his hand, expecting Harry to give it up peacefully.

            Harry had no choice, he had to hand over his wand to Ape.  He regretfully surrendered it.

            “And I might add, it has been a long time coming.” Ape sneered.  “You see, Putter, you never learn!  You don’t know how predictable you have become.  The Fart Lord trapped you last year using your uncle as bait, and you predictably ran to the rescue.  It gave me an idea, Harry, a way to get rid of you.  Yes, Harry, I loathe you.  I hate you because you are the son of James Putter.”

             Harry interrupted, “You hate me because my father treated you like …like… dirt when you were both students?”

             “At first, yes, but it’s more than that now.  Like your father you never follow the rules either.  Rule and laws are there so that we can all enjoy the same rights and privileges as each other, without endangering each other, hurting each other, or killing each other.  Your father had no respect for the rules, and neither do you.  You think you’re special!  Above the law.  You are cheating scum, and yet people love you for it.  That’s the rub!  It’s just not right!  They should hate you for the juvenile delinquent that you are!  You are no better than a hoodlum.  If we all followed your lead, Putter, we might as well flush society down the toilet, where it would belong.  We could all live like animals, doing whatever felt best at the moment.  Take for example the Chamber of Cheesecakes, if this really was a Chamber of Cheesecakes, what would you have done with ...”

            Harry interrupted again, “Wait a sec, ‘if this really was a Chamber of Cheesecakes?’  What does that mean?  This can’t be it?”

            “Poor confused boy.  No, Putter, you see, I trapped you.  I made up the Chamber of Cheesecakes.  I bought a Dr Sherlock’s cheesecake.  I made a sign.  I made up a mystery.  One that you simply couldn’t resist.  So, no Harry, there is no Chamber of Cheesecakes, no Err of Slipperin, only a boy in a room he shouldn’t be in if he followed the rules.  You are so predictable, Putter.”

            “So the guard dog, the riddle, the bingo game, and the wall of cheese all guard … nothing?” asked Harry.

            “The teacher’s lounge,” said Ape, holding his hand up, indicating the room they were in.

            Harry was having a bit of trouble catching up to the reality of the situation. 

            Belch walked in through the door behind Ape.  He was still wearing the suit of armor.  “Harry Putter, Ha, HA!  Looks like you finally caught him, Professor!  Thank God.”  Belch started doing a little victory dance.  “Finally, I can stop wearing that stupid dress.”  

            Ape smiled, “And now Harry, you’ve broken your probation, and Grumblesnore will have no choice but to expel you.  Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

            “Grumblesnore won’t …”

            Ape snapped, “He most certainly will!  You’ll see!  There you go again, expecting to be treated special!  You are not special!  You are just like everyone else, Putter, and when you or anyone else breaks the rules, there are consequences and repercussions!”

            Harry protested, “Well, we’ll just see about that!  Let’s go talk to Grumblesnore!  I bet he’ll have you sacked once he finds out about your evil little plot!  You’re sick, you are.  All those children suffering, just so you could catch me.  It’s sick I tell you.”

            Ape laughed, “Children suffering?  Do you honestly think we would hurt the other students?  Stories, Harry.  All stories.  The reason you don’t know any of the children who were attacked, is because we made them all up.  I also think you will be quite surprised to know that Grumblesnore is in on the whole thing.  It was his guard dog, his sphinx, his bingo game, and his wall of cheese.  You see, Putter, Grumblesnore has had five years, six if you count preschool, of trying to run a school with you around, and like me, he is quite sick of it, too.”

            “So you three conspired to get rid of me this year!”

            “Yes, Putter, and if I’m not mistaken, Grumblesnore will be here very shortly to say goodbye, and I’m sure he will be in a very good mood.”

            “You’re insane, Ape,” came a voice from behind one of the rice paper screens.  It was the voice of Gildersneeze Farthard, yet he sounded different somehow.  Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  Gildersneeze would save him from Professor Ape.  Harry knew everything would be all right.

            Farthard burst into the room destroying another rice paper wall.  “If you think I’m going to let you expel Harry, you missed your path in life.  You should have been a jester!  Harry is a celebrity among wizards, not only has he on several occasions defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Smelled, but he has won dozens of quibbage matches, and the Fry-Wizard Tournament.  Harry’s fame has been spreading throughout the world like wildfire.  And Hogwashes is making a KILLING selling Harry Putter books, T-shirts, toys, and other promotional merchandise.”

            Harry smiled.  He wondered, what happened to Farthard’s lisp?  He wasn’t drooling either.

            “I can’t expel him, can’t I?  You overstep your bounds, Farthard!  Harry has been breaking the rules ever since he got here.  He’s on probation, and I’ve caught him red-handed out of his room past curfew, and in a restricted area!  Grumblesnore will have no other choice but to expel the brat!  Furthermore, Hogwashes does not receive any commission on all the Harry Putter merchandise being sold around the world, you imbecile!” said Ape with detestation in his voice.  He never could stand Farthard, the bumbling idiot.

            “Well, if you really insist, be my guest.  You can expel him after I’m through killing him!” An evil sneer twisted the face of Farthard.

            Harry’s smile vanished.  “Kill me? But why?” 

            Ape stared at Farthard too, wondering why the fool, Farthard, would want Harry dead, and how the idiot thought he would accomplish it with Ape right there to prevent him from doing it.

            “Ape, Ape, Ape, I fear I am quite beyond your comprehension,” chuckled Gildersneeze.  “But you, I understand all too well.  Treacherous men are ever distrustful.  But you needn’t fear for your own skin.  I do not wish to harm you, as you would know, if you really knew me.  So I am giving you a final chance.  You can leave Harry to me, of your own free will, – should you choose to.  But first, you will surrender your wand.  It shall be a pledge of your conduct, to be restored to you later, should you merit its return.”

            “Surrender my wand, and you call me the jester?  Farthard, you are indeed a moron.  Harry, come with me, we’ll go talk to Grumblesnore, – in private.”

            In a sharply commanding voice, Farthard rebuked Ape, “I did not give you leave to go.  I am not finished.  You are a fool Ape, and yet pitiable.  You might yet have turned from your folly, and been of service.  But you choose to gnaw the remains of your old plot, when a new one is afoot.”

            Ape was astonished.  Gildersneeze spoke, and Ape found himself obeying.  This was not the drooling idiot, Farthard.  Something was indeed afoot.

            “Behold,” said Farthard, “I am not Gildersneeze Farthard, whom you call moron and imbecile.  I am Gandulf the Off-White, who has returned from slumber.”  He removed the illusion disguising himself as Farthard.  It was Gandulf the Off-White. 

            “Holy Crap!” said Carnivorous Ape. 

            Belch turned to run, but was quickly catatonic, as Gandulf cast a stupidifying spell on the school custodian.  He fell to the ground with a crash of armor.

            “Ape, your wand is broken.”  At Gandulf’s words there was a crack, and the wand split asunder in Ape’s hand, and fell down at his own feet.

            Harry was remarkably calm.  “But why, Gandulf?  Why would you want to kill me?  And why now?”

            “Now?  Hmmpf, foolish boy, I’ve been trying to kill you all year.  Wasn’t it becoming obvious with each deadly creature I released upon you in class?  And why do I want you dead?  Isn’t that obvious too? 

            I’ve been the most famous wizard for decades, until this young upstart fledgling of a wizard, Putter, turns up selling more books and merchandise that I have in nearly fifty years on top!  And let me tell you, you’ve accomplished nothing, boy!  All the wizards in this tale are wimps compared to me and the powerful wizards I’ve had to deal with.  And you haven’t brought a single one down!  As a matter of fact, you’ve let Lord Fartypants grow more powerful in each book I’ve read so far.  And let me tell you, if there ever was a chump of a wizard, it’s the Fart Lord.  Please, I could make him lick my boots!  But anyway, it’s time to put an end to this charade and my competition.  I will be the greatest wizard once again!  Nothing personal, Putter.”

            Harry had a lot more questions, but a voice came from behind another one of the rice paper screens.  “A chump, am I?  Gandulf, you overestimate your own powers.  Sure you killed the ballrog, but it took you what?  Three days?  And if it weren’t for the luck of those lembas-eating midget friends of yours, you’d have been squashed by Saurun.  We all read the books.  The elf, Legollas, was way cooler than you!” said Lord Moldyfart as he burst into the teacher’s lounge. 

            “Lord Moldyfart,” Gandulf sneered.

            “Yes, indeed.  And if anyone is going to kill Harry Putter, it’s going to be …”

            “ME!” interrupted yet another voice from behind yet another rice paper wall.  From behind the screen, Elvis Grumblesnore stepped through the paper wall and into the room.

            “For fifty years, I run a school peacefully and like clockwork, then Harry Putter shows up, and for the past five years, six if you include preschool, it’s been nothing but trouble, danger, and a huge mess!  All my problems will be gone, once and for all, when I kill Harry Putter!”

            Harry’s jaw dropped.  “Not Grumblesnore too,” he thought.

            “So now it’s ‘kill’ is it?  Not expel?” asked Ape.

            “Sorry, Professor, if I don’t do it, one of these two will.  And I asked myself, do they really deserve to kill Harry?  And I answered myself, no, I deserve to kill him.  This may be my only chance.”

            “So, is everyone here then?” asked Ape.

            “Not quite, ho, ho, ho,” laughed a voice from behind yet another rice paper screen.  The voice was unfamiliar.

            “Now who can that be?” asked Gandulf, clearly becoming impatient as all these other wizards kept showing up all wanting a piece of Putter.

            Santa Claus smashed through the rice paper screen in front of him, toting a sawed-off shotgun.

            “Santa!” cried Harry, pinching himself.  “Not you too?  Why?”