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Thinking in Little Green Boxes

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Summary: The ever friendly and cuddly Merc with a Mouth discovers a baby named Harry on his doorstep.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Theme: Comedy
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories
DireSquirrelFR154985,87746596437,86015 Dec 093 Sep 12No

War Journal Entries





Punisher's War Journal Entry

I got a present in the mail for my birthday. It was a new model sniper rifle and a packet of dossiers on a number of Brits dressed in black robes. I almost tossed it until I got to the section on the snake guy. That's one nasty piece of work. Normally I don't range much out of the country, but I'll make an exception in this instance.

I like my prezzies, but I wish he'd given more ammunition. Maybe I'll send this 'Arthur' a nice rocket launcher as a thank you gift.



*Ring! Ring*

Johnny Blaze got up from bed groggily. He brushed a hand through his hair and pulled the phone up to his ear.

“Blaze,” he said in a sleep addled voice.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could help me with a problem in the UK?”

“Uh what?”

“Well, not your help, but Ghost Rider's help. Much innocent blood has been spilled. Well not that much because they use spells that kill without actually harming the body, but much figurative innocent blood has been spilled.”

Johnny Blaze wasn't really awake and forgot that he was supposed to have a secret identity. “Oh, that Spirit of Vengeance thing...You want my half-brother Danny Ketch. I'm the other Ghost Rider.”

“You could still shoot things with your shotgun,” the young man on the other end of the line suggested.

“Oh,” he said still half asleep. “Okay.”

“Great! I'll come get you. I'll even enchant your bike so it can fly.”

“That sounds great,” Blaze said, fully believing the bizarre conversation to be a dream.

With that, Johnny Blaze fell back asleep, only to wake up in a strange alley, surrounded by weirdos wearing robes and stupid hats.




“Okay, I've enacted two phases of my plan to defeat the Rodent of Death,” Harry gleefully announced to the Order of the Phoenix.

“What?” Dumbledore asked confused. He didn't even hear the boy appear. A quick glance around the table showed the other members were equally confused and even a little alarmed. “Oh, yes, for those of you who weren't here last time, this is Harry Potter.”

“Oh, he's just a boy, he shouldn't be here,” said a slightly familiar woman who Harry hadn't seen in about forty chapters. Harry promptly shot her with a tazer.

“Great, now that into-” Harry was cut off by an angry husband.

“Mollywobbles? What did you do to my wife?”

“I tazed her. She was being annoying. She'll wake up later with a buzz and some residual pain, but otherwise unharmed,” Harry explained. “And now, I need your help enacting the next phase of my plan.”

“And what would that be little boy?” asked a redheaded woman with a fancy badge.

“These!” Harry said as he pulled out a poster of a smiling Voldemort with two thumbs up, wearing a cap and a black and white striped shirt.

“This is your poster?” asked Remus Lupin. “And how is this going to help?”

“What's that rune on his cap?” asked Diggle. “I don't recognize it.”

“It's a symbol of pure evil, well recognized in the States,” Harry said.

“It looks like an N superimposed on a Y,” mused Dumbledore.

“Exactly,” Harry said. “Now I need people to put these up anywhere Americans might see them.”

“That's all? No dangerous missions? No death defying stunts?”

“No, that's what super-villains and rent-a-minions are for,” Harry said. “I just got a deal with the HYDRA axillary for more, too.”




Three Days Later:

“Mr. President! Mr. President!” the aide said as he burst into the Oval office.

“Yes?” said the man.

“New England is almost empty! So are Chicago and Baltimore!”

“What do you mean?” the president asked in horror.

“Everybody left for the UK! They took their baseball bats with them!” the aide exclaimed frantically.

“Hmm...what happened?”

“We think it had something to do with this poster, sir,” the aide said, pulling out a poster of a snake man wearing a Yankee's uniform. The title said: Death Eaters love the Yankees. Don't let the Death Eater's win!

“Hmm...I think a state visit to the UK is in order,” the president said. When the aide left to make arrangements, the president slipped into his wife's office. “Honey? Where'd I leave my baseball bat?”



“Wait a minute,” Pixie said later. “You grew up in New York!”

“Well, yeah, but I'm a Mets fan,” Harry corrected. “Now will you help me put these 'Voldemort hates Football' posters up around the UK? We need to support local teams too.”



In totally unrelated news, Voldemort kept having inexplicable bolts of pure fear running through him. Maybe it was the chili?



Punisher's War Journal Entry

Death Eaters die easily. I snapped four shots off and they didn't even consider a sniper on the roof. I'm starting to wonder if they're all that competent.

The sniper rifle is better than I thought. It's been modified somehow to eliminate kick and is as light as a feather. Now if only I could have a Vulcan Cannon modified this way.



“May I have your attention please?” Dumbledore asked the school, standing at the staff table. “I would like to announce that we have a new interim Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who is taking time out of his busy schedule to help us along. Please give a round of applause to Dr. Victor Von Doom.”

Doom took a step out and nodded in nobless obliges to his new students.

Pixie turned to her boyfriend with a look of confusion, horror and disappointment wrapped all into one. “Why didn't they pick Nico Minoru?”

Harry shrugged. “She probably wasn't evil enough for them, but she was probably a better choice for a teacher.”

“Wait, isn't Dr. Doom the tyrant of Latveria? Isn't he a mass murderer?” Hermione Granger asked.

“So was Voldemort, and Dumbledore hired him five years ago,” Harry said. “At least Doom's got the cool factor. The Rodent's just a jerk in a snake suit.”

“There is something wrong with your logic, but I'm not sure it's worth the effort to argue,” she replied.

“That's probably a good policy,” Pixie said. She turned to where their teammate was crying into his pudding. “What's with Draco? I didn't know anybody could have that many tears in their body. You'd think he'd be going dry.”

“He's not very pleased to be a super-heroine,” Ron said. Hermione looked ready to correct him about hero/heroine, but decided it wasn't worth it. Ron didn't seem to notice as he prattled on. “Not that I blame him, not everybody can be as awesome as Captain Hogwarts.”

“I know! Captain Hogwarts is so hot!” Ginny Weasley said.

“I'm gonna go puke now,” Ron announced, turning a nasty shade of green as he staggered out the doors.

“At least he made it to the hallway this time,” Hermione said. Harry looked confused. “Harry?”

“What's that?” he asked, pointing at the redheaded girl sitting next to him.

“She's Ginny, Ron's sister,” Hermione said, more than a little confused. “You've met her before.”

“No, I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've laid eyes on it,” Harry argued. “I'm quite sure it's the first time it's appeared in this fic.”

“What?” Hermione asked, even more confused. She turned to Pixie for an explanation.

Pixie just shook her head. “It's one of those 4th wall things. Just ignore him and everything will be fine.”

“That seems like a sound policy.”



“In today's class we will be building plasma disintegration cannons,” Doom announced. He glanced up to notice a bushy haired girl raising her hand. “Yes, who dares interrupt Doom?”

“Uh, Hermione Granger, sir, I was just wondering what you were doing with our text, or if we would be learning any spells? Our last professor was completely incompetent,” the girl pointed out.

“Not today,” Doom announced in his loud, hollow voice that demanded no opposition. “Soon, Doom shall instruct you in the true power of Sorcery! But first-plasma disintegration cannons.”

Doom gave very specific instructions, having written them on the board and started wandering through the desks. “Very good Mr. Potter. I can see this is not your first time creating weapons of directed destruction.”

“Well, I don't make them that often, but dad always said it's an important skill to have,” Harry agreed. “His skill is named Weasel.”

“Minion?”

“Of sorts, I'm going for a more hands on approach,” Harry agreed.

“You have pleased Doom,” the new professor intoned ominously. “Carry on.”



Punisher's War Journal Entry

I've been tracking a death eater by the name of Lucius Malfoy in the hopes that he will lead me to the snake. This far I haven't been successful. He seems overly weary, which seems to be primarily due to the large number of non-magicals hunting him. He's escaped them three times, but will probably walk with a limp for the rest of his short life. Football hooligans seem to have taken special attention to him after he tortured three of them. They make my job more difficult, but at least I'm not the one getting overwhelmed.

I don't think I've seeen that many Red Sox fans in one place since the last time they made it to the World Series.

I saw the posters too. I think it's time this Voldemort learns I'm a Met's fan.



“Who dares disturb Doom's Office Hours?” the tyrant demanded from behind his desk as he graded the work on the plasma disintegration cannons. Not total failures, but still needed much work. Only Granger, Gwynn and Potter created anything of value, but that was to be expected.

“I, Luna Lovegood, disturb Doom's Office Hours,” the tiny blonde girl said in a tough manner.

“What can Doom do for you, Miss Lovegood?”

“I was hoping for some extra credit helping to build legions of Doom,” she said. “Daddy said exposable minions who won't join the Rotfang conspiracy are very important and you can't trust people. People hunt crumple horned snorkaks you know.”

“Hmmm...Dr. Doom has been considering taking on another apprentice...”



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