Heymei cackled gleefully as he walked off his 50% off flight from New York to London. Huge, towering buildings surrounded the tiny airport as Heymei waved his hand for a taxicab.
Ever since his alter-ego, Anime-watcher, had been to Japan, he would never be the same visiting other countries.
A cab pulled up to the airport’s curb. “Hey yoo! I’m bwitish! Can you pop ze trunk?” Heymei asked in a terrible Australian accent. The cab driver, whose name was Udliva, shot Heymei a dirty look and “popped ze trunk”. Tourists, always making fun of the British accent. Heymei piled his belongings into the trunk and got into the cab. “So, where can I get myself a cuppa hot tea? You bwitish like your hot tea, doncha?” Heymei asked conversationally, pulled off his mittens and hat. It had been under zero degrees back in New York. The cab driver snarled in anger, swerving around a group of tourists who had been standing in the middle of the street. “Where do you want to go?” growled Udliva.
“Harry Puttah! Let’s go to Hogwarts yo!” Heymei was very enthusiastic now. He had spotted a harry potter lookalike in the café right next to the road. He jumped right out of the window and rushed over to the café’s window. He started pounding on the glass. “Harry Puttah! Can you sign my face? My wand? My arm?! Where is hermione and ron? Are they drinking tea also?!”
Biben was enjoying himself a nice cup of hot tea when suddenly, there was a sound clanging sound from the glass. He looked over, and saw a wild, mangy looking man. His large ears looked elf-like. The short man waggled his eyebrows up and down and asked again. “I’m bwitish! Don’t worry, I’m not a touwist.” The man had a terrible accent. Biben shook his head in anger. Why did tourist always have to make fun of the British accent?! He pulled out his long carved wooden knife and walked outside.
Outside of the glass, Heymei watched in surprise as the harry potter look-alike pulled out a small wooden wand and greeted him. “Harry Puttah! Sign my face!” Heymei begged. The man’s face contorted in rage.
“Avada Kedavra!” Biben shouted. There was a flash of green as Biben sliced the knife through Heymei’s side. “Don’t mock us British people, tourist,” Biben snarled. Heymei looked down in surprise and toppled to the floor. “You’re harry puttah!” he gasped, holding his bleeding wound. Biben’s face broke into a toothless grin. “yes, I’m harry potter,” he lied through his teeth.
Heymei died, believing that harry potter, his favorite wizard, had killed him.
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