"It's not like that in the magical world, 'Arry," Hagrid said, voice lowered in concern. "Y'see, when Vol... well, when You-Know-Who set up a trust deposit insurance scheme, 'e didn't account for rising interest rates. And 'e didn't give codflakes about whether it would influence currency issues abroad, or take into account nominal seasonal fluctuations in the GNP as accounted for in Dumbledore's rules. See, that's what makes him so evil, Harry; by doin' this he unpinned meaningful values from real estate an' just left 'em floatin', an' so the loss in equity was inevitable
fficial version of the drinking game as passed by Congress. While based largely upon the original rules as enacted by Parliament, there are differences in parliamentary procedure and shot-glasses which make the American version VQVQVQVQT Franklin rule which restricts vodka shots when it would violate the eparation of powers
"Woo woo woo! Look at them legs!" the fresh maple leaves shouted. The cloth catnip mouse was offended, but said nothing. She had long been exposed to that kind of behaviour from deciduous plants. "I'll be glad to get home," she thought to herself. "I'm hungry, and at least Finky will treat me with some respect." She reached 44th Street and entered her building where Adolfo, the bumble-ball doorman, was on duty. He rose unsteadily and nodded to her. Next to his chair was a nearly-empty bottle of kaopectate. "'S' nothin'," he lisped drunkenly. "Jus' a little shot t' hold me until I getta break." She said nothing and, avoiding his gaze, quickly went inside. The elevator arrived at her floor and she dashed into their small apartment. To her surprise she saw the familiar large plastic penguin standing in the doorway to the kitchen, naked, holding a dozen roofing nails in one flipper and a birthday cake, with candles, in the other. "Finky!" she laughed. "You remembered!" "Happy birthday, Sheiloo, my favorite little cloth catnip mouse," Finky replied. After a leisurely candlelit dinner of cake and roofing nails, the two giggled and retired to the bedroom
There are five houses. The first house is on the left. The longshoreman lives in the red house. The economist owns the basset hound. Tea is drunk in the green house. The fireman drinks bourbon. The green house is immediately to the right of the ivory house. The octopus owner reads history books. Science fiction is read in the yellow house. Milk is drunk in the middle house. The detective lives in the first house. The man who reads biographies lives in the house next to the man with the anteater. Science fiction is read in the house next to the house where the squirrel is kept. The magazine reader drinks antifreeze. (Bad habit, really.) The general reads Shakespeare. The detective lives next to the blue house. Now, here's your quiz: Who drinks water? And who owns the weasel?