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As the mist began to clear, three figures could be seen struggling to rise from the cold, wet ground. None of them knew where they were, or how they had come to be there.

The tall, lanky, blonde kid with a terribly unfashionable braid was the first to speak. “Who goes there!?”

The young boy with the unruly black hair and lennon glasses shot back with confidence, “Harry Potter! Surely you must have heard of me! You know, the boy who lived and all that!”

“Boy who lived? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have time for your games! I’m ANAKIN SKYWALKER, BEST JEDI EVER!”

The third figure chimed in. “I’m terribly sorry, but I really must get this beautiful, shiny, extremely tantalizing ring to Mt. Doom right away!” He looked remarkably like the young boy calling himself Harry Potter, but was even girlier, prettier, and appeared to be, well, a midget.

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