Box of Hats and Wigs

Oh god. My apartment has discovered the most deadly drinking game ever. It’s not Ring of Fire, HITLER or anything similar, rather a game based on what can only be described as the worst fanfiction known to mankind.

Called ‘My Immortal’, it’s a work that may at some point have been based on Harry Potter, but somehow has been set in a bizarro world where everybody listens to My Chemical Romance, is “goffik”, and there’s a lot of PEDOs and rape. Trying to read it is like seeing anything relating to literature being violently raped up the arse with shards of glass whilst being filmed and posted on the internet for everybody, including your Grandmother, to see. Oh, and if you’re wondering, that’s what we call an “understatement”.

The work shows such a disregard for the English language that reading it is actually physically impossible, as instead you just have to vaguely guess what the words might possibly mean. But you’re not allowed to call it out on that; otherwise an author’s note (of which there are many) will call you out for being a FKING PREP SDTOP HATTING ON ME I WRITNG BOUT RLY SRS IISSSUS!

Continuity is something that fails to exist in this universe, as Harry Potter is called “Vampire Potter”, who films the main character Ebony (who is totally NOT a character based on the author) and Draco in an amateur porno, Herminone is named “B’loody Mary” (I have no b’loody idea why) and Dumbledore is spending most of the time suffering from headaches (that is, when his name isn’t being spelt in more different ways than there are actual numbers).

“Dumbledore had constipated the cideo camera they took of me naked.”

For some ridiculous reason, the internet decided that such a work decided to be celebrated in the form of a drinking game. And for ever much I hate them, such a chance for such an awful piece of work to be read could somehow not be avoided.

The rules are the following:

Take a shot each time there’s an author’s note. Take a shot with every bad pun, two if followed by ‘geddit’.
Take a shot each time the narrative stops to describe the clothing or makeup, two if it’s a boy’s makeup.
Take a shot whenever fishnets are mentioned.
Take a shot each time a band is mentioned, two if they are going to attend a concert.
Take a shot every time preps (or Hillary Duff) are insulted or are flaming again. Take a shot each time
Ebony gives somebody the “middle finger”.
Take a shot for every use of ‘fuck’, ‘666’, or ‘depressed/depressing/etc.’. Take a shot whenever someone slits their wrists or cries tears of blood.
Take a shot for every overly-long, dramatic pause, as in, “It was……………. X!”
Take a shot every time Ebony has sex. Take a shot every time she comments on how hot someone looks, two if it’s a band member. Take a shot whenever she refers to genitalia.

You might look at that list and go “oh, well, that can’t be too bad. So many rules, it must be as stuff doesn’t come up that often.”

You are wrong.

This fanfic contains over 40 chapters, and the current status at this apartment is chapter 13. The chapters are between 1 and 3 pages of A4 long, but they contain so much sheer pain and anguish (in both the text and for the reader) it’s almost impossible to get through. People have played this game with water, and have RUN OUT OF DRINK.

“’U c, Enobby,” Dumblydore said, watching the two of us watching the flame. ‘2 c wht iz n da flmes u mst find urslf 1st, k?’”

I’d like this to serve as a public service announcement. If you’re ever tempted to read My Immortal… don’t.

Or if you do, make you’ve got a phone very near to call for help.