No, our best china’s in there!
Mr. and Mrs. Privet, of number twenty-three Dorsley Drive, were anything but normal. They had been normal only a few weeks earlier, but they were now as crazy as anyone fortunate enough to have been incarcerated in the local loony bin.
On the outside, Mr. Privet, a tall, bald and incredibly thin man, appeared quite normal, but just beneath the surface, barely hidden, he was a seething mass of nervous ticks, idiosyncratic behavior, peptic ulcers and, above all, just plain loonyness.
As well as suffering from the same mad ways as her loopy husband, the extraordinarily fat Mrs. Privet was also suffering from the dreadful infliction of hearing voices in her head. She might hear them at any time of the day or night, and would oftentimes jump up in bed screaming in a most alarming way, giving her husband such a fright he’d begin shaking uncontrollably. It was a most dreadful state of affairs altogether. Despite suffering from these awful conditions, Mr. and Mrs. Privet tried to continue living as normal a life as was possible, but hardly a day went by without one of them experiencing a mad interlude that would make most normal people simply roll over and die.
Before I continue on with my story I must also tell you about their son Box, Box Privet. This child (the veritable apple of their eyes) was, like his father, of a tall and incredibly thin physique. At times this trait would cause him to be the butt of jokes and jibes by his classmates and acquaintances. However, he paid little or no attention, because his mind was always set firmly on the love, the passion of his life – electronics. Upstairs, in his small bedroom, Box would work for hours on end with his soldering iron, long nose pliers and tweezers creating, crafting bringing his new ideas to life. It was a lonely existence, but it suited him fine.
I have already told you how Mr. and Mrs. Privet had been quite normal only a few weeks earlier. In all truthfulness the Privet’s had been one of the happiest families in their entire estate of mock Elizabethan detached houses. But now they were mad, living in fear for their lives, the happy and contented existence they had so enjoyed in tatters, a shambles, and a shadow of what it had once been.
You see, the Privet’s had been hiding a secret, a big secret. And while it had been contained and suppressed, as they felt is should still be, they had been enjoying that happy and contented life, but from the moment, the very instant this secret, this terrible secret had escaped from its place of incarceration, a private boarding school going by the name of Hagswords, it came to an abrupt and shocking end.
No, silly, she’s Harry Rotter!
Stories for children and young at heart adults
By ME, The Crazymad Writer – ARRRRGH.