BlueCloud2k2

Was cruising FanFiction.net and came across some old jokes re-written as if they happened to Harry Potter, thought I'd share (FanFiction.net won't allow you to copy/paste anymore the bastards): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/46/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/47/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/48/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/49/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/50/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/51/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/54/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4070610/56/Thrilling-Tales-of-the-Downright-Unusual I hope you all laugh half as hard as I did reading some of these.

Because Vibranium is the second hardest substance in all creation?

Bah!

Don't you need to card him, first?

How do you stop a Rhino from charging?

What about Doesn't Matter?

People and their sports. Bah!

I get a choice?

Who?

L. Marcus once lost a bet and had to go without shoes for a year. In Sweden, that makes for a loooong winter.

Neil Armstrong was not supposed to be the first man on the moon, DT was. But unfortunately he had one too many speeding tickets and NASA canned him.

Was that supposed to be a small joke?

L. Marcus once ran a marathon. As in, the original Marathon. He reached the gates of Athens, shouted "Nike!" and fell over dead. How is he still alive, you ask? Easy, in the near future he steals a time machine so he can go into the past to run the original marathon and fall over dead. Your time draws near, L. Marcus!

Do I need to start making "Soccer is a Girl's Sport" jokes?

And more importantly - where can we get some?

You get knocked down by a 500-pound woman and then are trampled by her 450-pound husband because you managed to be the first in line for that $200 Super-Size Flatscreen. NT: Subtle-signs the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade Santa Clause no long finds your antics amusing.

Q: What makes you think you are Ozymandias? A: Just gimme the hot-sauce. I'd eat shit on a shingle with enough hot-sauce.

L Marcus supplied the kerosine.

Chirp-chirp (sounds of crickets filling the silence)

Q: I'm trying to kill myself with fast food. What can you give me? A: Precisely zero f***s are given here, today.

Wouldn't that depend upon who makes it?

Take the studio's money and flee the country. NT: You took the studio's money and fled the country. Where will you go and what will you do?

Is anyone else suddenly and hopelessly confused?

"Cricket? Nobody understands cricket. You gotta know what a crumpet is to understand cricket."