Hewitt Parkinson and the Philosopher’s Pizza Shapes

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Chapter 1 The Boy Who Stays Alive During This Chapter.

It was an average day for the Smiths. Or was it? Of course, you the reader would have all ready figured out that something very extraordinary will happen in this chapter. But as not to spoil it for yourself, you’ll keep quiet about it thank you very much. Mr. John Smith got up to the cries of his young son, James. He travelled the long trip downstairs and got ready for breakfast. His wife, Jane, was the best cook in the house. She cooked John’s breakfast (which happened to be steak for some bizarre reason) and Mr. Smith ate it in a hurry. He trotted to the key rack, which was placed for convenience right by the front door. He patted James on the head and grabbed his car keys to his “Subaru Impreza, Souped up Extreme to the Max” and headed outside. He opened the door, and put the keys in the ignition. He reversed calmly out the drive way. As he got to the end of the street, (which was very quickly, not surprising when you’ve got such a powerful car) he saw something that stunned him. A Tabby cat was examining the street sign that said “McManus street”. The cat looked at Mr Smith, and hurriedly ran to the garbage can. Just like all cats do. Mr Smith shrugged and headed to work. He got to work, and was having a splendid day. He had successfully yelled at several people, got a phone call, and had an early lunch. He headed to his favourite café. On the way, a man charged him down in the street. He tackled the poor Mr Smith to the ground. “Sorry,” Mr Smith said. He had only just realised that the man was wearing sky green (the sky hadn’t been looking to healthy for quite a while now) robes. “There’s no need to be sorry! Even you Jigglers should be celebrating for You-Know-Who has disappeared. The entire world is rejoicing.” The man said. Mr Smith walked off to his café and ordered a doughnut. When Mr Smith had finished lunch, he headed back to the office. As he was going back into work, he was tackled again. This time (Mr Smith was glad to hear) the person was just trying to mug him. John Smith fought him off no troubles and entered the doors. As he was closing the doors, he heard someone yelling to someone on the other side of the Continent. “Parkinson was the name I think.” One of them bellowed. “Yes, it was their son, Hewitt.” Mr Smith froze. He knew the name Hewitt Parkinson. Although, that is not what made him freeze. He had accidentally left the freezer open, and had been standing right in front of it. Hewitt Parkinson was the son of Henry and Hannah Parkinson. There was something very unusual about them that the Smith’s kept quiet about. At the end of the day, Mr Smith headed home. He got to their street, but was shocked to see that the tabby cat was sitting on his house wall. He pulled into the drive way and thought nothing of it for the next couple of seconds. He went into the house, and sat down in front of the television. The news was on, and Mr Smith was surprised to see the story they were showing. The weather man said that multiple comets had been sent through the sky, causing the unnatural green coloured sky. Mr Smith turned to his wife, Jane, and asked, “That sister of yours, she has a son now doesn’t he? He’d be about James’ age now wouldn’t he?” “Yes of course. Now let’s never speak of her unnatural breed again!” She snapped. Mr Smith eventually went to bed. Now, here comes the extraordinary event at the end of the chapter! Enjoy, and please, keep reading. At the middle of the night, a strange-looking man with former-sky-blue robes on had appeared at the end of the street. He looked at the cat on the Smiths’ house, and smiled. He took out of his robes, what looked like a frog. It ran to every street light in the street, and turned them out. The man put the mischievous creature back in his robes. He then walked up to the cat, and did something extraordinary. He sat down next to the cat. “Fancy seeing you here, Professor Thorny.” The man said. The cat, with a POOF, turned into a woman (at least, I think it was a woman. It was dark and pretty hard to tell). “How did you know it was me?” the woman asked. “I have never before seen a cat, they give me the flu, but that’s how I knew it was you.” “Ah, OK then. So, where’s Hewitt?” “Johnson is bringing him.” The old man revealed. “Johnson? Are you sure you can trust him Bumblebee? He tends to be a bit careless.” “I would trust Johnson with my life Professor Thorny” Bumblebee replied sternly. “But that’s not really gambling much though is it Bumblebee?” Professor Thorny said cheekily. Bumblebee had no reply to this. The two people stood around and waited, when they heard a rumbling off in the distance. The rumbling sounded a lot like a flying motorcycle that may just happen to belong to someone called Johnson who has ears that looks suspiciously like corn on a cob. Not that I’m giving anything away of course. As a matter of fact, it was indeed a big flying motorbike that landed on the ground. A man climbed off, holding a bundle in his hands. He had corn for ears and his breath reeked of Broccoli. “Here he is professor Bumblebee sir.” The man said. “Where’d you get that motorbike Johnson?” Thorny asked. “From young Centuri Brown, professor.” “Put him down by the door then thank you Johnson.” Bumblebee said. Johnson did what he was told, and left in a rumble of noise. Bumblebee then turned to Thorny. “I have a note here for the Smith’s. I will place it with Hewitt, and they will care for him.” “Everyone will know his name in the wizarding world.” Thorny said. “My point exactly, professor Thorny. This is why I left him here with Jigglers. He will grow up as a Jiggler, so the publicity won’t go to his head.” At that moment, the boy in the bundle (Johnson had stolen the crib for his own reasons) had no way of knowing that at that very moment, people all around the world were throwing their glasses at each other, while drunk, were saying, “Take that, ‘You Know Who’! You were beaten by a baby! Ha!”

Chapter 2 Eleven Years down the track has MORE extraordinary events.

It was eleven years down the track, and this chapter will have MORE extraordinary events. Hewitt was in his cupboard and thinking something along the lines of, “How I wish something really extraordinary will happen at the end of this chapter.” All of a sudden, there came some ferocious pounding on the door. “Get Up!” Hewitt heard Aunt Jane yell. “It’s James’ Birthday! I want you too cook the bacon! And if you let it burn, then NOTHING extraordinary will happen at the end of this chapter!” Hewitt raced to the kitchen (dreading James’ Birthday) and made ABSOLUTELY SURE that the bacon didn’t burn. With a bit of luck, Something REALLY extraordinary will happen at the end of this chapter. James had breakfast, and counted up his presents. “76…77…78…79…80…81…82…83…84…85…….173…174…175…176…177.” He counted. He reached 179, when he burst into tears. “179 presents! That’s one less then last year!” Hewitt, who could sense James having a bit of a tear, began wolfing down his bacon with a lot of extreme graphic violence. Aunt Jane could sense it too, it seemed, so she reassured him that they would get him 121 more while they were out. A while later, the doorbell rang. It was James’ friend Graham, coming to the zoo with them. Hewitt was meant to go stay at Mrs. Leaf’s but she broke her leg tripping over one of her cats. They all scrambled into the car, and headed off to the zoo. As they were halfway there, a motorbike came along and roared past. “Lunatics,” Uncle John said as they went past. “I had a dream about a parsnip before.” Hewitt said. “It looked like a motorbike.” “PARSNIPS DON’T LOOK LIKE MOTORBIKES!” Uncle John bellowed back at Hewitt. “It was only a dream,” muttered Hewitt. Hewitt shouldn’t have said anything. Even harmless dreams could get you in trouble. When the Smith’s Graham and Hewitt got to the zoo, they entered, and John rounded on Hewitt. “I’m warning you,” he said. “No funny business. Otherwise, you’ll be in your cupboard ‘till Christmas!” Hewitt reluctantly agreed. The party headed into the reptile room, and got bored extremely quickly. “Make it move dad.” James’ pleaded. John tapped the glass, and the snake did not move. The party moved off, but Hewitt stayed behind. “I bet you get that all the time.” He said to the snake. The snake nodded. “Where are you from, anyway?” The boa constricta tapped the sign next to it. It said that the Boa Constricta was from Brazil. “Is it nice there?” Again, the Boa Constricta tapped the sign. It explained that the snake was bred in the zoo. “Oh I see! So you’ve never been to Brazil.” At that moment, Graham came and yelled, “Mr Smith! James! Come look what Hewitt’s doing!” The Smith’s came running over. “Out of the way,” James said, and punched Hewitt in the stomach. James lent on the window, and watched the snake fiercely. All of a sudden, the glass vanished! James fell right into the habitat. The Boa Constricta took its chance to escape. It jumped out the window (which was pretty well down, considering it has no legs). It nipped at everyone’s heels. The Boa Constricta got out the zoo. The zoo keeper’s were so embarrassed, that they gave everyone a free sundae. Hewitt gobbled his up. When they got home, the minute Graham was out the door, John rounded on Hewitt. “GO-ROOM-NO-MEALS!” Hewitt trudged to his cupboard, and sulked. It was Monday when he was let out of his cupboard. He was made to get the mail. As he picked up the mail, he saw the extraordinary thing that he hoped that would happen at the end of the chapter. The reader will note that this is NOT the extraordinary event that will happen at the end of the chapter. This is just the second of several. The very last one is VERY extraordinary. But THIS extraordinary event is a letter. It said Hewitt Parkinson 3443 McManus St The Small Cupboard Syrup Hewitt stared at his letter, while bringing the rest of them. He gave the others to Uncle James, and opened his letter. At that moment, James yelled, “Dad! Hewitt’s got a letter! Let’s get him!” Uncle John lunged at Hewitt, tackled him to the ground, and took his letter. He got up, and looked at Hewitt. “Who would want to write to you?” he said. He read the letter, and turned a nasty shade of yellow. “Jane! Come here! James’ and Hewitt! GET OUT!” he stuttered. He threw Hewitt and James into the passage. The door flew closed and locked. James beat Hewitt to the keyhole, so Hewitt looked under the door. He could see Uncle John pacing up and down. “They know dear. What will we do?” Aunt Jane said. Hewitt was sure he heard a note of panic in his Aunt’s voice. “Nothing. If they don’t get a response… yes, that’s what we’ll do.” Uncle John said. “But I don’t think that will work.” Aunt Jane replied, but Uncle John just shot back, “These people’s minds work in strange ways Jane. But if they have been watching him…” Hewitt could only hear muffled whispering. After five minutes, the door opened and Uncle James was standing there, looking at him. “Can I have my letter?” Hewitt asked. “No, it was a wrong address.” Uncle John replied. “But it had my cupboard on it!” Hewitt shouted back. “Yes, about that cupboard, it really is a bit small for you isn’t it? How about if you move up to James’ second bedroom? Go on, take your stuff upstairs.” Hewitt did as he was told. It only took one trip, but Hewitt got upstairs. He felt as though his life was starting up again. He had never had a real bedroom before. But he would rather be in his cupboard, with his letter, than in a bedroom without it (this shows just how out of whack his priorities were). Hewitt went downstairs, and sat down for breakfast. “Get the mail James.” Uncle John said. He seemed to be trying to be nice to Hewitt. James started hitting things on the way to get the mail. “Dad! There’s another one for Hewitt!” James bellowed from the front door. Uncle John charged to the door and seized the letter. Hewitt glimpsed the front. It was exactly the same apart from the fact that instead of saying ‘The Cupboard’, it said ‘The Smallest Bedroom’. Again, James and Hewitt were thrown out of the kitchen, or more accurately, Uncle John closed the kitchen door before they could get in (John had dashed back to the kitchen surprisingly quickly). Hewitt looked under the door. Again, he saw Uncle John pacing up and down the kitchen. “Probably spying on us, yes, that’s what they’d be doing. We have to do something. I know! We’ll board up the mail box!” Uncle John yelled. The next day, Uncle John boarded up the mailbox (he hadn’t been to work for a while) and sat down for breakfast. But at that moment, Hewitt heard a chainsaw. He rushed to the sound, and saw a chainsaw poking through the wall. It began to slice the wall open. Moments later, about twenty letters came through the gaping hole in the wall. Uncle John, somehow, got there at that moment and caught all the letters. He threw Hewitt out the gaping hole in the wall, before boarding it up. By the time Hewitt was let back in the house, it was dark. At dawn on the following morning, straight through the chimney came about sixty letters. Again, James and Hewitt were thrown headfirst out the kitchen. They didn’t have to listen for long, until they heard Aunt Jane’s “superbly made blender that will shred ANYTHING, even letters that are getting tiresome, blender” (It was a Samsun.) revving away. Uncle James came through the kitchen door, and yelled at James and Hewitt, “Get packed! Just clothes! We’re leaving this house!” James and Hewitt bounced upstairs. Now before you get hasty, this is still not the extraordinary event of this chapter. James and Hewitt scrambled into the car, and saw that Uncle John was carrying a long thin package. When everyone was in the car, they headed off. They didn’t stop at all, and Uncle John kept on turning around and turning around again. At about eight thirty-sevenish, they stopped at a motel. The next day came and the manager of the motel came in the door. “Is anyone here Hewitt Parkinson? I’ve got about a hundred letters to Hewitt Parkinson on my desk.” Hewitt darted forward but Uncle John tackled him down. The manager stared. “I’ll take them” Uncle John said. The manager led Uncle John away. When Uncle John came back, holding a lot of letters, he threw them straight in the fire. The Smiths and Hewitt got back in the car. They kept driving, until Uncle Smith got out the car, and left everyone all by themselves for a while. When he came back, he had a man with him. “Mr Fletcher here has leant us his shack! No letters can get to us there!” Everyone, (except the anonymous man, supposedly Mr. Fletcher) got in a little boat, and rowed over to the rickety shack. When the got inside, they were amazed at how cold it was. “Could do with a few of those letters now, couldn’t we?” Uncle John said cheerfully. Everyone had dozed off, everyone that is but Hewitt. I would like to thank you, the reader, for your patience, as here comes the extraordinary event that you and Hewitt have been waiting for. Hewitt laid waiting for his birthday. He was looking at James’ clock that was ticking closer and closer to midnight. “Just twenty seconds to go,” Hewitt thought dully. He started to count down the seconds. “15…14…13…” he got to one when something extraordinary happened (Nope, STILL not the extraordinary event that happens at the end of this chapter). There was a loud BOOM on the front door. “Where’s my dinner?” James asked stupidly. It was a whole three seconds after Hewitt’s birthday had started. There was another loud BOOM. Uncle Smith came round the corner, holding a rifle. With one last BOOM, the door was ripped off its hinges. In walked a man. The man had corn-on-a-cob for ears and his breath smelled like broccoli. “Get back! I’m armed!” Uncle Smith bellowed. “Ah, shut up Smith, ya great fish!” the man said. It’s a bit chilly in here don’t ya think?” he pointed his yellow trench coat at the fireplace and muttered something. The fireplace was lit on fire. “Who are you?” Hewitt asked the man. “True, haven’t introduced my self have I? I’m Mark Johnson. I’m the looking after everything guy at Delarg. You’ll know all about Delarg of course.” “Um, no, I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re on about actually.” Hewitt replied. “You mean you don’t know anything?” Johnson asked, looking stunned. “I know some things, maths…” Hewitt began but Johnson interrupted. “Ah now, come on, I saw your last maths test. Three and a half out of two hundred you got. And anyway, I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about our world, your parents’ world! Haven’t you ever wondered how you got that scar?” “What scar?” Hewitt asked. “What scar? WHAT SCAR? The scar on your blasted forehead! Jeez!” Hewitt hastily ran for a mirror and noticed one lying on the floor. “I forbid you to say anymore! I’m armed!” Uncle John bellowed. Johnson reached out and grabbed the gun from Uncle John’s hands, and chucked it out the window. Hewitt (who had finally seen the scar it took him eleven years to notice) turned his attention back to Johnson. “What am I then?” Hewitt demanded. “You’re a wizard Hewitt.” “I’m a what?” Hewitt asked bedazzled. “A wizard, you know, one of those guys with a wand, turns things into other things and stuff like that.” Johnson replied impatiently. “Sorry, but I think you’ve made a mistake. I can’t be a wizard.” Hewitt said timidly. To his surprise, Johnson chuckled. “Not a wizard, eh? Never made anything happen when you were scared or angry?” Hewitt thought, and realised that yes, one of the extraordinary things that had happened this chapter was that he had set a Boa Constricta loose. “Yeah, but I still can’t be a wizard.” Hewitt replied “Why not?” Johnson demanded. “I don’t have a wand.” Hewitt replied defiantly. “Well you’ll get one! Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll go get your stuff.” “Where can we get all of it?” Hewitt asked. “You’ll find that out next chapter, now go to sleep!” Johnson replied.

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