Fred’s Dead, Baby, Fred’s Dead

DITZY GIRL: Whose toilet seat is this?
COOL DUDE: It’s a lavatorial comedy device, baby.
DITZY GIRL: Whose lavatorial comedy device is this?
COOL DUDE: It’s Fred’s.
DITZY GIRL: Who’s Fred?
COOL DUDE: Fred’s dead, baby, Fred’s dead.

~ From “Twin Pulp”, the new movie by Quentin Tarantino

I love Jo Rowling. Ok, so there’s nothing new there, I’ve loved her for a while now, don’t we all. But I really swore my eternal devotion to her after Deathly Hallows. The woman gets me. She knows what makes me tick. She knows how I “roll”, if you like.

So what, you may wonder, prompted this renewed adulation for the Scottish Woman?

Well¦ She killed Fred Weasley.

Now don’t get me wrong ’ I am not a Fred hater. I am certainly no ginger-basher. I love all the Weasleys, even Percy. And when it comes to flame-haired men, Fred is certainly way up there (with Eric Stoltz ’ yum). No I loved Fred as much as the next girl. But come on, killing him off, however sad, was a stroke of genius!

No, really, I cried for Fred Weasley. It was shocking. It was cruel. It was one of those moments of “where were you when…” ’ I remember exactly where I was when Fred died. It was in a place called Silver Springs … um … Springsteen? … Maybe it was We’ll Gather Lilacs in the Spring … Well, some springy place in the state of New York, near Saratoga, on July 25 2007, in a little railway café. I had just come from the launch of Deathly Hallows in a Border’s store in New York, New York, and was now slowly making my way to Prophecy in Toronto. I was with my strictly-non-HP friend whom I’ve known since kindergarten and who now lives Stateside. She generously allowed me to read bits of Deathly Hallows during her loo-breaks, provided I wasn’t going to bore her with it in the car. Woof. Harsh conditions! I’d already cried quietly in my pillow for Dobby a few days earlier somewhere in a motel room on the way, hoping she wouldn’t hear. So while she was off powdering her nose ¦ Jo killed Fred. BAM! Just like that, in the warm sun of a summer day, while I was waiting for my pancakes. I was upset; I won’t lie. When my friend came back from the loo, she could see it in my face. “Ok, who’s dead now?” she asked as she slumped into her seat with a sigh. “Fred Weasley’ I sniffled. “Ah yeah, I read that on the internet the other day.”

Fortunately, we had planned to meet up with my filking partner Aislinn, whom I’d never met before, in Saratoga for dinner that evening. “Fred is dead!” I cried down the receiver when I called her to finalise our plans. “Is this Nina?” was her somewhat puzzled reply.

Anyway, I am not a cruel, cold-hearted woman. I even cried for Draco when he ¦ oh no, Draco didn’t die ¦ it must have been because of that, then. But as soon as the words “Fred is dead” rolled from my lips, I knew my life had changed forever. It was a new dawn, it was a new day, it was a new life. It was the dawning of the age of Fred is Dead.

I am sorry. I simply can’t help myself, but I have had more fun with the unfortunate passing of Fred Weasley than with anything else that happened in those seven books! Come on! If ANYONE would have enjoyed a good laugh about his own death it’d be Fred Weasley. I mean ¦ imagine Jo had decided to kill George in stead! A whole universe of rhymes would have been lost to the world! NOTHING rhymes with George! Well, there’s gorge and forge, but how many filks can one write using only gorge and forge! Not many, if any. But Fred, on the other hand¦ there’s head, bed, red, bled, bread, bred, said, shed, spread, thread¦ the list is ENDLESS!

I knew instantly that I HAD to write a filk called “Fred is Dead” or at least featuring those words. Oddly enough, “the Ace of Spades” by Mötorhead was the first song to drop into my head. Fred is Dead/Ace of Spades ¦ you can probably see how I got there. But somehow I couldn’t quite see myself do that one. And besides, I’d had so much fun coming up with rhymes for Fred is Dead, I couldn’t use an aggressive song like that! It had to be more light-hearted, more ¦ camp. And when I want camp, I call Elton.

As soon as my mind wandered to Elton John, I knew it had to be “the Bitch is Back”. I could hear it instantly “Fred, Fred¦ Fred is deaaaaaad”. But, as it always happens with filks, or it does for me anyway, once you start developing your idea you start chipping away at it until you end up with a product that only marginally resembles what you originally had in mind. Aislinn and I ended up recording “The Twins are Back“. Not a bad little filk and it does still contain the words “Fred is Dead.” But somehow it didn’t quite manage to satisfy my morbid fascination with the death one of Molly’s little boys.

There was still the whole issue of Angelina¦

But I’ll talk to you about that sometime soon!

PS: Bonus points for each song reference you can find! I count 9 myself.