TBAY: SILK SHIRTS and GREY UNDERPANTS (unashamedly long)

[Sara_ELL]

No: HPFGUIDX 68048

Sara-ELL looked up; the mid-afternoon sun could be glimpsed through 
the vast flock of owls soaring overhead. She may have been imagining 
thing but the sky did almost look a bit less crowded. 

Kirstini, the souvenir-seller had been making an absolute killing, 
mainly from the new crew of the one and only SAD DENIAL. Sara-ELL 
looked rather dubiously at the matching set of `Kingley Shackebolt' 
lingerie which Kirstini had given her, in exchange for a stale 
HUMBLE FISHFINGERS and fifty rusty `Elf Liberation League' badges. 
Eyeing the garish gold undergarments, Sara-ELL had the unsettling 
feeling that that Kirstini had gotten the better end of the bargain.

They both set off to have a drink at The Royal George when Sara-
ELL's vision was arrested by the sight of a small, but relatively 
sturdy sip on the horizon bearing on its helm, in cramped writing, 
the green and silver letters, `S.I.L.K. S.H.I.R.T.'. 

`Erm - go on ahead, Kirstini,' Sara-ELL muttered to the Souvenir 
entrepreneur. `I'll catch up with you later - got a crew to join.' 

Sara-ELL passed a very sinister-looking building which rested on the 
foundations of what could only be a couple of tons of  "Sleek-Ezy" 
hair gel reinforced with a few hundred yellowed Evil!Hermione 
pamphlets. Vaguely wondering how it had been fire-proofed to 
withstand the inevitable ammunition, Sara-ELL noted the intriguing 
signage (`MADAM WHIPLASH') and loud, raucous music emanating through 
the walls. Another day perhaps, she told herself, deciding to forgo 
the theory for the present.

Carefully stowing her rose-coloured glasses in the voluminous depths 
of robe, she surveyed the wreckage around her as she made her way 
across the sandy beach. Kicking off her pointy-toed shoes (those 
omnipresent `Rookwood Thongs ™ kept getting tangled in the heels), 
Sara-ELL tentatively trod into the tepid waters of Theory Bay, eager 
to join the crew that had drawn her to the Bay in the first place.

Sara-ELL was not a great swimmer and her newly purchased robes, 
coupled with her shiny, black SILK SHIRT were hindering her progress 
through the water. The scattered remnants of bygone theories were 
not making life any easier and Sara-ELL distractedly wondered when 
the long-term TBAY-ers would come back from the various wakes being 
held at the funeral home, to salvage the remnants of their various 
water-craft.  

The object of her exertions, a stout vessel bearing inky-black sails 
inched closer. From a distance, the boat had been overshadowed by 
the formidable bulk of the heavily-armed `Big Bang!' Destroyer that 
was anchored nearby; up closer, Sara-ELL could discern the SILK 
SHIRT's two can(n)ons on deck as well a trio of people who could 
only be crew members. The boat's hull, she could see, was covered in 
barnacles and a strange pink marine fungus, producing the 
unfortunate effect of a fairly bad case of acne.

A rope ladder extended down from the deck of the vessel; Sara-ELL 
eagerly climbed this, glad to be out of the murky Bay water, and was 
presented with a thread-bare black towel by the two enthusiastic 
crew members who met her at the top.

`I'm Jens,' said a silvery haired girl, `first mate of this 
theory'. `She,' gesturing to her silent colleague, `is Diana. Don't 
mean to be rude but you're not used to snipping, are you?' Jens 
said, coolly noting Sara-ELL's uneven haircut.

 `Never-mind, I'll take you over to Captain Oryomai - you'd better 
explain things to her.' Jens led Sara-ELL to the Captain who 
appeared to be turning over and whispering to a small plastic 
figurine in her hands.

`Landlubber with inability to cut posts aboard, Captain,' Jens 
announced.

Captain Oryomai looked up.

 `Hello there! My name's Sara-ELL. I'm here to see about joining 
your crew.' She quickly added, `I'm very impressed by the artillery 
on the deck so far and, although I agree that it may be out-powered 
by that destroyer over there, I'm willing to defend your boat 
against any comers. One can easily see how a bright and hard-working 
young man, as Sniv
sorry Severus was - remember how hard he worked 
during the O.W.L. exam that Harry saw in the pensieve - could be an 
easy target of victimisation by a gang of bullies, just because he 
was different to the others."

` What do you mean by `different' ... look, you're not one of those 
LOVESLAVES now, are you?' Captain Oryomai suddenly looked very 
alarmed.

`No, no! I don't mean different in *that* way - I can just see that 
Snape really was a rather lost loner who ended up joining the 
infamous `gang of Death Eaters' in order to protect himself from the 
Marauders. Protection in groups and all that, you see. Had anyone 
made any effort to really get to know him, they would have seen that 
behind the greasy-haired creepy-looking boy, there was
'

`Yes?' the crew members leaned forward to catch this tantalising bit 
of insight.

`There was a greasy-haired, sad, lonely, very unhappy boy ... who 
probably wrote bad poetry about unwanted bats and unrequited love in 
his spare time,' Sara-ELL added as an afterthought.

Captain Oryomai sighed, glancing over at the two small can(n)on 
pointing over the deck. `Do you have anything of substance to 
fortify our theory with?'

There was a gleam in Sara-ELL's eyes™ as she rummaged through the 
contents of her pockets. She pulled out something rather shapeless 
object that was fairly damp and worn. 

The Kingsley Shacklebolt lingerie set had not, it seemed, borne the 
journey through the waters of the bay as well as the rest of the 
contents of Sara-ELL's pockets. The bright gold sequins on the 
undergarment had disintegrated in the water and the dyes making up 
the brilliant purple lettering on the side, had likewise run 
through. What Sara-ELL now held up was a discoloured Y-front, with 
frayed elastic at the top and quite a few holes on its sides.  

`What is *that*?' Jens said, disdainfully eying the grungy 
underwear. `We aren't that desperate are we, Captain?'

`Wait, here me out here,' Sara-ELL continued, waving the      
G.R.E.Y. U.N.D.E.R.P.A.N.T.S. in front of the unfortunate Captain's 
nose. `Ghastly Remembrances Expose Yesteryear Unhappiness; Notable, 
Discomforting, Example Reflecting Parental Acrimony, Neglect: 
Trouserless Severus.  Just think about it - in the pensieve memory 
that Harry witnessed, amongst the other things that were mentioned: 
the climax of Snape's humiliation, the nadir of his youthful torment 
was the display of his scrawny legs and dingy underwear in front of 
all of those girls, including of course, Lily Evans.

`Look, are you sure that you're on the right vessel - the LOLLIPOPS 
cruiser is just over there ... you know... ANOTHER BOAT!'

`Sorry -  got a bit carried away, won't mention her again, promise,' 
Sara-ELL replied, taking a half-step backward towards the rope 
ladder hanging off the deck. `The bottom line is, *why* did Snape 
NOT wear anything under his robes on that fateful day when he was 
hung up-side-down. And, how did James and Sirius know about this 
before they publicly humiliated him?'

`Erm - it was a warm summer day when they were sitting the O.W.L.S,' 
Diana said. 

`Not to mention, the 1970's ,' Jens added with a knowing 
look. `Look, ordinary people dressed like a second-rate fakirs in 
those times, so hardly surprising that the `real' wizards 
eschewed `muggle-wear' like sensible trousers.'

 `Well, what if the Snape family weren't that well-off? What if 
' 
here, Sara-ELL paused for dramatic effect, `he *couldn't* wear 
trousers because he *didn't* have any trousers to wear. His 
dysfunctional parents, caught up in their own miserable lives 
couldn't get round to providing the boy with anything but the bare 
essentials.' Sara-ELL stopped, suddenly aghast at her unfortunate 
choice of idiom. 

Composing herself, she continued, `The Gryffindor Golden Boys, 
Marauders or whatever you call them, know and take every advantage 
of this fact. Remember that Sirius and James weren't exactly 
deprived youths. I could imagine the little snots,' Diana and Jens, 
drew quick breaths in, shocked at the slander thrown towards the 
heroic secondary characters. Sara-ELL continued unfazed, `laughing 
at Snape's lack of appropriate clothing. On the other hand, perhaps 
Snape's parents were authoritarian traditionalists and exposed the 
young lad to years of unhappiness, culminating in his transformation 
to the ray of sunshine we now recognise him as, by forbidding him to 
wear `mud-blood-wear'.'

Captain Oryomai, who had hitherto been silent, stepped forward to 
examine the GREY UNDERPANTS which Sara-ELL now brandished with an 
increasing air of desperation. 

`Look hear, we're up against the Big Bang Destroyer, you know. We 
need real armament to stand a chance against that thing,' the 
Captain indicated the bulk of the Big Bang! Destroyer nearby. `The 
elastic on the waistband of that theory is really stretchy and as 
for those *holes* 
'

`A-ha!' Sara-ELL interrupted, `Weaponry - well, have a whiff of 
this ... '

The Captain bravely ventured a sniff, her crew looked on, torn 
between awe at their Captains' bravery and horror at the smell of 
the theory.'

`Well, I'm not asking anyone to wear the theory but it does have the 
required item of can(n)onical reference,' pointing out a faded 
emblem of a cannon surmounted by a pair of skinny bare legs on the 
side of the undergarment, `you don't even have to display these GREY 
UNDERPANTS on deck or anything.' 

Sara-ELL pointed up at the twin sails of the boat, `you could just 
hang them off the top of the main mast. That way, if a storm comes, 
no-one will ever notice that they've flown away
' 

Looking hopefully at the Captain she added, `So, can I can stay 
aboard?'