[Copypasta] Why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911

Ok, this has been driving me crazy for seven movies now, and I know you're going to roll your eyes, but hear me out: Harry Potter should have carried a 1911. Here's why: Think about how quickly the entire WWWIII (Wizarding-World War III) would have ended if all of the good guys had simply armed up with good ol' American hot lead. Basilisk? Let's see how tough it is when you shoot it with a .470 Nitro Express. Worried about its Medusa-gaze? Wear night vision goggles. The image is light-amplified and re-transmitted to your eyes. You aren't looking at it--you're looking at a picture of it. Imagine how epic the first movie would be if Harry had put a breeching charge on the bathroom wall, flash-banged the hole, and then went in wearing NVGs and a Kevlar-weave stab-vest, carrying a SPAS-12. And have you noticed that only Europe seems to a problem with Deatheaters? Maybe it's because Americans have spent the last 200 years shooting deer, playing GTA: Vice City, and keeping an eye out for black helicopters over their compounds. Meanwhile, Brits have been cutting their steaks with spoons. Remember: gun-control means that Voldemort wins. God made wizards and God made muggles, but Samuel Colt made them equal. Now I know what you're going to say: "But a wizard could just disarm someone with a gun!" Yeah, well they can also disarm someone with a wand (as they do many times throughout the books/movies). But which is faster: saying a spell or pulling a trigger? Avada Kedavra, meet Avtomat Kalashnikova. Imagine Harry out in the woods, wearing his invisibility cloak, carrying a .50bmg Barrett, turning Deatheaters into pink mist, scratching a lightning bolt into his rifle stock for each kill. I don't think Madam Pomfrey has any spells that can scrape your brains off of the trees and put you back together after something like that. Voldemort's wand may be 13.5 inches with a Phoenix-feather core, but Harry's would be 0.50 inches with a tungsten core. Let's see Voldy wave his at 3,000 feet per second. Better hope you have some Essence of Dittany for that sucking chest wound. I can see it now...Voldemort roaring with evil laughter and boasting to Harry that he can't be killed, since he is protected by seven Horcruxes, only to have Harry give a crooked grin, flick his cigarette butt away, and deliver what would easily be the best one-liner in the entire series: "Well then I guess it's a good thing my 1911 holds 7+1." And that is why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
August 2021
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Hi Kripp this is Battlemaster's wife Housewifemaster

twitchquotes: Hi Kripp this is Battlemaster's wife Housewifemaster, i've noticed that my husband is never home to play with the Childrenmasters and they are really missing their Fathermaster. Could you choose my dear Husbandmaster less so that my kids can grow up with an actual Dadmaster? Thank you Kripp, maybe he can take you to Gymmaster so you can put some muscle on that scrawny vegan body.
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January 2024

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10:43 PM, Microsoft Tower, Washington. A figure stands in shadow, red lights from the theistic ceiling flood the spacious hall. Along the sides, hallmark pieces of technology are proudly displayed on golden pedestals. The Xbox, Windows, Hololens; At the center of it all, the vaccine. "Microsoft Microbe Covid-19" the label on the syringe reads. A glowing substance can be seen sitting still inside. Monitors flicker to life at the end of the hall, each one showing the point of view of an innocent civilian. The light draws a silhouette of a man. His body, frail. His skin is leathery and rugged. Breathing apparatus cover his face, a cold green mist slowly spewing out. The grand door opens, humanoids armed with weapons drag an unkempt and furious man towards the being in shadow. They throw him to the floor, spit slathering the ground. "This is the last one?" the figure asks. "Yes, Lord Microsoft. all 4,607,423,673 other citizens have been accounted for." The rugged man looks upwards, his face bloodied and bruised. His eyes meet Lord Microsoft's. Puffed from tears, his eyes can only show one emotion: anger. "Bill Gates, you piece of shit. I swore to Samantha that if I ever-" "Silence, creature!" Lord Microsoft slaps him with the back of his hand. "I am lord Microsoft, and you will refer to me as such!" The guards grab the man, hoisting him up. "Now, let us delay no further. It has taken me years to get to this point, and I will not have my victory denied!" Lord Microsoft grabs the vaccine and primes it for injection. "Such a small thing, isn't it? Yet, it has afforded me the right to dominate all life on Earth. Covid was a blessing, not a curse." The man's eyes widened, he screams in retaliation, but the guards shut his mouth with force. Lord Microsoft pierces his flesh with the needle. A flourescent orange liquid can be seen coursing through his veins. He falls to the floor, his muscles tightening and constricting in unnatural fashion. His eyes bulge from his skull and he shouts in pain. He slumps over, and in only a moment he comes back to his feet. His pupils dilated and his skin, pale. "How may I serve you, my lord."
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COVID

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