FicWad

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! Nothing!"


Sam was in a desperate situation. He simply had to find a restroom!
He had to piss so bad his teeth were floating!

He had made his way into the castle, knowing it was against the rules,
but he did not have time to make it to his regular watering spot.

He had been in the dungeons about to enter the male restroom, when the
door flew open and a small turbaned man came rushing out followed by a
visible cloud of fecundity with an undertone of garlic.

The little man squealed, and probably would have soiled himself if he
hadn't so obviously emptied his bowels (and from the stench, quite
possibly both legs as well). As he ran off screaming, Sam
scrambled away from the pit of despair the man had left behind.

As he headed off looking for another restroom, he realized the little
man may have no solid left in his bowels, but that he had expressed an
equal amount of gas from his lower half as he had in his screaming
fit.

Crop-dusting little bastard!

Merlin, it smelled like a foul mixture of rancid horse meat, garlic,
and mothballs. And people wondered why he had become a vegetarian?

He would need a long bath after this. Arrgh! he had to stop thinking
about water!

Finally he came across another restroom. He noticed the witch symbol
on the door, but it was either this or piss on the wall. He looked in
either direction and hurried in, ducking to fit.

There was a snuffling sound in one of the stalls, but hopefully he
could be done with his business and back in the forest before the girl
finished.

He quickly went to the sink, (there was no way he could fit in a tiny
stall) pushed his loincloth to the side and let loose.

As a cloud of steam raised from the sizzling sink, he groaned in
relief. As a troll, the incendiary nature of his urine was a
definite hazard. There was a small quarry in the Forbidden Forest
that was his usual stop, but it had simply been too far. He knew that
Hagrid would eject him from the forest if he caused another fire.

After shaking off the last few drops of flaming urine, and running the
sink to wash it away, he knew that the greasy little man would be quite
upset if he knew that he had just relieved himself in the castle.
While the greasy one never collected it himself, he had provided
several large containers to hold the fluid for collection by Hagrid.
Something about magical may palm?

Suddenly, Sam was pulled out of his musings by an ear-splittingly
shrill scream. He turned to see a small girl screaming at the top of
her lungs. He was so shocked he raised his arms and screamed as well.
He tried to calm the girl down and apologize, but slipped slightly on
a spot of mold. Trying not to crush the mobile howler of a girl, he
overcompensated and swung his arm holding the interesting piece of
driftwood he had found by the lake he was planning to carve when he
got home.

Oh, that was bad.

He had just destroyed several of the stalls and the sinks in his spin.

Luckily, he had missed the girl who was now cowering in the corner.
He had to calm her down quickly, or this would not end well.

He was trying to talk to the girl, but obviously the fumes from
earlier had a mild psychotropic in them. In his mind, he was trying
to gently calm the girl down, with his palms down, whispering
platitudes, and making soothing gestures.

Unfortunately, the girl had also been affected by the fumes as well,
and saw a growling, roaring troll shaking a club at her. The heat
from the smelly flaming troll urine probably exacerbated things as well.

Sam heard another voice, and raised his hands in relief. Finally!
He could simply explain the situation, apologize, and get the hell out
of the castle, and wash the assfunk off him from that little turbaned
bastard.

The next thing he knew, there was a stick rammed up his nose,
scrambling his brain as if he was being lobotomized. The last thing
he saw was a ginger blur, and that piece of driftwood floating over
his...


"...what the hell was Sam doing in the castle?..."

"...know the Board will have your wand if they know you were
sheltering two trolls in the forest Alb..."

"...es, yes, well for the Greater Good, we'll just cover this up won't we?
Bind him magically to the bridge in the forest, and we'll Imperius
Suzy to help guard the stone. Yes, that will be perf..."


Sam woke up with a raging headache and barely able to speak, laying
on a small pallet of leaves under a bridge in the forest.

As he tried to collect his scrambled thoughts, he knew one thing.

One, next time he would simply start a damnable forest fire.

Make that two things!

Two, he would find a way to break the binding and piss on that bearded
bastard's grave!




A/N - this came about from a discussion on another forum. It got lost in my head and took several wrong turns. You can probably expect to see Sam pop here and again in some of my other stories. No offense to anyone named Sam, I actually posted elsewhere and they did not like the name, so it's my name now. So put away those pitchforks! I am bashing myself, well at least my name :) And I may actually add other stories under this title, so it is incomplete for now. Depends on the feedback I get.