Lord Voldemort was bored and restless and longed for a break from his job as the Dark Lord. Lately he was finding the job too difficult for his aging body - he was finding it hard to run away from Hogwarts students whereas once he used to landsurf away with ease...and he was also finding that his colon was just too old to keep up with the activity level required of the Dark Lord. Also, since inflation was bad in England, he was finding that the job didn't pay half as well as it used to and so he'd had to give up shoes and as a result all the gravel on the floor of his hideout was hurting his bare feet. He'd crucio-ed Lucius Malfoy in front of all of the Deatheaters for talking too much about his latest surfing holiday to Hawaii because it made him massively jealous and made him long to feel the sun on his palid skin and walk along a moonlit beach. He was also desperate to get away from England's weather because every time he planned to take over Hogwarts, it rained, and so he had to postpone the attack or Bellatrix's hair would be ruined and she would be unbearable for the next ten months. She also had irritable bowel syndrome which was triggered by cold, wet conditions and Voldemort did not want to hire people to hose down the walls of their secret hideout again because he was broke. That's one reason why he wanted to take over Hogwarts, because he'd heard that Hagrid kept a massive stash of cash under his straw mattress and Voldemort wanted to steal it and stash it in his Swiss bank account, where it would get a good amount of interest, before the stupid ass half-giant could shit all over it in the night.

Voldemort languidly leafed through a brochure that showed happy, vacationing families sunning themselves in beaches, but the happy images caused an allergic reaction inside him and he barfed onto his own lap. After making Wormtail clean him, the Dark Lord found a different brochure that showed guided tours of Transylvania in Europe. He wondered at the scary castles and disturbing imagery in the brochure and found the activities advertised very alluring. I have listed some of them below:

* A blood tasting event held in Dracula's castle

* A mountain hike where you hunted the last Unicorn and then used crossbows to shoot it.

* A self-flagellation course

* A mountain yodelling session (this can be combined with the self-flagellation course for a discounted price)

After mugging each of his Deatheaters over the course of a week Voldemort scraped together enough cash and went to the travel center to book the vacation. The woman looked at him nervously as he drifted into the office and introduced himself with a loud and ominous, "NYEEEEEEAAAH!" She told him there would be a charge for taking any baggage on the airplane and this shock caused him to jet-wash the poor woman against the wall with an uncontrollable combination of barf and diarrhea. That tuna sandwich he'd eaten hadn't agreed with him after all. As the woman was temporarily blinded by bodily fluids, and vomiting all over the place due to toxic shock syndrome, Voldemort ran around her side of the desk and pressed the 'confirm' button on her keyboard. He then left without paying because he knew his holiday was booked and it was now irreversible. He had to lift up his robes like a skirt though because the diarrhea had made them stick to his legs and, if he let them fall free, he was walking with a bizarre waddling farting motion.

Three weeks passes and Voldemort was a bundle of nerves. He was so afraid of taking an airliner. He hadn't flown for over sixty years because when he last flew his broomstick, it had experienced a heart attack and lost control whilst flying; the Dark Lord could only cling to it whilst it smacked him into Big Ben repeatedly before falling out of the sky completely and dying. He'd had to take the train back up to his secret hideout in northern England and he wasn't even allowed to travel first class as his accountant would not permit the wanton spending of cash. Voldemort had lost the ability to apparate after seeing his reflection in the mirror once - it had given him PTSD which had caused a mental block on his ability to use certain magic and had also made him go bald overnight. The toupee hadn't suited him and so he had given it to Lucius. Anyway, he went to several hypnotherapy classes and eventually felt a little better about getting on a commercial airliner. He was not allowed to take any luggage and so he wore several robes on top of one another, put his sunglasses and golf-visor on and wore Nagini like a feather boa. Snape drove him to the airport in his Winnebago.

He came to check in his bags, but then realised that he didn't have any and so merely scared the staff by forcing them to check themselves in as baggage - slapping a sticker on their asses and gaffer-taping their mouths shut with his own mucus. He wrote his name on them so that everyone would know who they belonged to when they were unloaded from the plane in Transylvania. Voldemort found going through security very difficult because they kept accusing his of smuggling drugs underneath his ridiculously long toenails. They also took most of his robes off him and took him away for a strip search; after repeatedly violating his anus with a tablespoon and forcing him to be sick by tickling him in the gut repeatedly, they let him go and get his flight. But Nagini was confiscated because she was a dangerous animal and would not be allowed to board the plane. Voldemort hated this and so killed the security men and shoved Nagini up his rectum for safekeeping until the plane landed and he was able to safely birth her again. He bought some candy and a soft pillow in the airport shops and then got onto his plane.

He quickly discovered that he loathed flying and barfed into the woman next to him's purse. She slapped him and he honked in shock before using avada kedavra on her, he then stole her purse to act as his baggage and propped her against the window for the rest of the journey - buying her peanuts from the cabin crew and just pretending she was asleep. When the plane started to land, Voldemort felt the changing pressure loosen a log in his colon and he was forced to strain against his will until a poop jet-propelled itself out of his ass and smashed the cockpit windshield. The atmosphere on the plane quickly began being sucked out into space and Voldemort was forced to adopt the brace position, farting loudly onto his own head. The plane made an emergency landing in Poland and the Dark Lord found that he could not stop ear-fluid from cascading out of both of his ears because they had become agitated by the pressure. He rescued his human baggage from the bowels of the plane and used a shrinking spell on two of them so that they were tiny enough to be stuffed into his ear canal and stem the tsunami of ear-fluid. The two unlucky check in staff drowned.

Voldemort spent a whole month walking from Poland to Transylvania, his last three items of his human luggage walking behind him in magical handcuffs - one of them holding his newly acquired Gucci purse. It took him so long because it was a long way, but also because he was accidentally kidnapped by the Polish mafia who mistook his identity for another noseless male fugitive who they were chasing. Voldemort had to escape over the rooftops after climbing out of the roof-hatch of the abandoned factory that the Mob used as a hideout. He was left with permanent intestinal damage though as he could not adapt to the Polish food and the Mob kept feeding him traditional Polish borscht which he latterly found out had given him gastroenteritis. He had to sacrifice one of his walking baggage items whilst escaping from the mafia though; he had pushed the man over the edge of the building and used him as a soft landing.

Eventually, with his two luggage items in tow, he arrived in Transylvania. Everything was painted black and was decorated with bats, giant spider webs and motifs of people dying in the fires of Hell. Finally, somewhere he felt at home! None of the houses or hotels had windows because most of the residents were magical vampires and they could not stand the bright Romanian sun streaming into their houses. Voldemort got a horse and cart to where he was staying at Castle Dracula up in the Transylvanian mountains. He added the cart-driver to his collection of walking baggage. A tall, handsome man wearing a huge, flowing cape came to meet Voldemort on the front steps of the castle; he was very slim and pale, had deep black hair and pointy teeth. He introduced himself as the owner of the castle, Count Vlad Dracula, and Voldemort was impressed by the man's manners and so decided not to skin him alive with his teeth (he was very hungry because the gastroenteritis meant that he was having a hard time eating). Dracula led him up to his room, an impressive suite in the tallest tower, and then bid him a good evening and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Voldemort took a shower, using some of the artisan bat blood shower gel, hung his human baggage up in the wardrobe and then settled down to sleep on his large four-poster bed.

He was rudely awakened twice in the night. Once was by his own guts as they came spilling onto the bedding from his colon, and Voldemort was forced to call room service because his human baggage passed out from the stench when he demanded they clean up the bowelly emissions. A small, hunchbacked man with greasy hair and palid skin came to clean up the diarrhea and introduced himself as Igor. He also carried a large cattle-prod which Voldemort persuaded him to use on the human luggage to wake them up, so that he could cram them back into the wardrobe. The second time Voldemort was awoken was by Vlad Dracula himself trying to suck his blood. Dracula was an expert at draining blood from his victims and had studied biology to find out where all the major arteries where. He had latched on to Voldemort s dong because he'd missed the femoral artery, and now his fangs were lodged in the Dark Lord's withered 'magic-wand'. Voldemort let out a loud honk of terror and surprise and leapt out of the bed, pulling Dracula onto the floor because his teeth are stuck in Voldemort's crotch. He started bludgeoning the vampire man in the face with his purse and eventually ended up on the balcony, trying to pry Dracula off of his dong with a candlestick. When this failed Voldemort powered up his innards and fired his targeted liver-shot at Dracula's head...livers spewed out of the Dark Lord's mouth and hit the Count with a wet slapping noise; gore and liver goo went everywhere and Dracula gasped in horror, letting go of Voldemort's dong in the process and subsequently being forced off the balcony by the force of the livers Voldemort was emitting. He plummeted into the mountain stream far below on the valley floor. The human baggage came out of the wardrobe to see what all the commotion was about, but Voldemort beat them all back in there with his soft pillow. He then got very tired and so went back to sleep.

The next day, after a sleepless night, he awoke dongless. This made him panic like crazy at first until he realized that it was detachable anyway and he would just need to rip Dracula open later to retrieve his shrivelled penis (Dracula is dead and so his digestive system doesn't work). He decided to go and do the dual course of yodelling and self-flagellation. He did not know what to expect but thought that it might give him some interesting ideas for torture...and if he did not enjoy it, he could always practice on the tutor. Voldemort left his luggage wrapped up in his comforter where he hoped they would pass out from heatstroke and therefore would be unable to escape. He leisurely trotted down to the meeting point where the cable car would take the participants up the mountain and to the Hall of Flagellation. On the cable car Voldemort felt sick. Really sick. It was windy and the thing was rocking from side to side perilously, causing the Dark Lord to barf over everyone in it and then jet-power the cable car up the mountain with his anxious gas. The other denizens of the cable car did not look pleased as vomit dropped down their ye olde garb and tried to throttle Voldemort violently - but having horcruxed himself many times he couldn't die and so Voldemort found himself in a half hour of constant asphyxia without sweet death to end it all. When he staggered off the cable car he had a terrible migraine and told Igor to go bring him a couple of Tylenol. Igor refused, saying that it defeated the whole point of the experience: self-punishment. Apparently the people in the cable car had all been actors hired by Dracula to enhance the experience and would have attempted to throttle him regardless of the whole barf incident!

Upon arrival at the Hall of Flagellation, Voldemort was told to hand over his wand because they were afraid that he would use magic to lessen the pain of the whips. Reluctantly he did so, but only because Dracula threatened to use his vampire-crap-powers on Voldemort's dong, which was still being digested in his stomach, if he did not comply with the rules. This meant he would never get his dong back and would never be able to experience sex again - although he wasn't sure he missed it in the first place. He did enjoy jacking off to snake porn whilst honking though, and so he complied with Dracula's wishes. He felt so degraded and helpless. But worse was yet to come... He was stripped naked and given a loincloth to wear before being thrown into a room with two people. One was a man wearing a leather skirt and a mask and holding a whip, and the other was a woman with long fair hair, dressed like a princess, who would teach him to yodel. He was forced to his knees by the man, who also knelt next to him and handed him a whip; he then gave him a tutorial on how to self-flagellate. Voldemort tried to back out at the last moment, but the man shook his masked head and whipped him back to the floor. The man then stripped totally naked and started to whip Voldemort really hard whilst hollering, "PAAAIIIIN!" in his thick Russian accent. Voldemort then realized that he'd never experienced such terrible pain in his whole life and began to screech like a banshee - the princess lady clapped and began to speak in her German voice, "Das ist gut, but we need to harness your true yodelling potential mein Herr!" She started to yodel and it undulated like boobs wobbling during sex. The man whipped him harder and the Dark Lord went, "NYEEEEEEAAAH...EHEHEHE...NYAHAHAHA!" This last outburst was extra long because he felt something stirring inside him, something that was not the pain of the whip. His colon felt like it was about to explode and water trickled from under his loincloth, down his skinny white legs and onto the floor. "You have peed yourself." Said the Russian man matter-of-factly but Voldemort knew better. "No! It's from my rectum...oh Slytherin! I forgot about her!" He quickly lay on his back and went into labor - he had not removed Nagini from his ass since he stuffed her up there more than a month ago! He had totally forgotten! The pain of the whipping had awoken her from her butt-hibernation.

As the head started to emerge, like a lengthening dong from his butthole, the blinding pain almost caused him to pass out. The yodelling woman was very impressed at his improving yodelling ability, as he lay howling in pain on the floor. The Russian man knelt down beside Voldemort and said, "You slacker! Why are you not flagellating! I do it for you!" Then the lashing began. As the evil honker strained to birth the ginormous python, Nagini's head came free from his rectum and she was so hungry that she immediately devoured the princess lady, even though her tail end was still wedged firmly in her master's large colon. It looked like Voldemort's ass was devouring the woman. The Russian man crossed himself religiously and dropped the whip. What he was witnessing was so abhorrent that he backed away and tried to flee from the room. But it was too late. Nagini flopped out of Voldemort's cavernous ass and thus the tide of diarrhea from Voldemort's anus was stemmed no more! A tidal wave of red hot liquid crappies sprayed out of the Dark Lord's backside and drowned the Russian flagellator as he fell over, succumbing to toxic shock syndrome.

Picking up Nagini, half of the princess yodeller still sticking out of her mouth, Voldemort jet-propelled himself out of the Hall of Flagellation riding his own poop stream like lightning. He was still only wearing his loincloth though and several passing peasants went blind due to the horrible sight of the Dark Lord's scrawny body, reflecting the sun like a mirror of awfulness. He landed in a flurry of poop on the balcony of Castle Dracula, lay down and cried. Voldemort cried. Then Dracula came in and started laughing at him heartily. He laughed so much he fell over, got up again and then laughed some more. He even shat himself through over-amusement. Voldemort was so annoyed that he got up and started walking ominously towards the vampire with outstretched strangulation hands. He accidentally headbutted a light fitting and started to gush blood all over the place, exciting Dracula's fangs and loins and causing him to launch himself at Voldemort in a kind of feeding/mating frenzy. The two evil men tussled on the floor, biting each other and pulling out each other's fingernails until Voldemort managed to de-fang Dracula and then used the leg of one of his walking luggage items to slit open the man's stomach to retrieve his dong from the bowels of doom. He then bumrushed Dracula out of the window a second time. He fell on Igor's cattle-prod and it went through his black heart - killing him and squashing the hunchback at the same time. Voldemort let out a loud and perfect yodel of glee and then used the sinew from the tendons of his last remaining walking luggage item to sew his inhuman dong back on.

After the exquisite pain of stitching his own weiner back on, he found his wand and used it to restore his anus to a normal size. He hadn't really enjoyed Transylvania that much now he came to think of it. He found a small boat and started to gradually paddle home using his hands as oars. Maybe Canada would be a better destination for his next vacation.

The end.