When we went to write our “Potter” show, we proceeded with business as usual, conjuring individual sketches inspired by what-if scenarios and the absurd peccadillos of everyday existence. However, as we wrote sketch after sketch featuring “random student number one” or ” generic child number two,” a creative complication emerged. The most enchanting part of any great fantasy author’s setting is how immersive it is. WARNING: No one under 16 without parent or guardian.The reader feels like the world has been fleshed out-to the point that they could walk anywhere or meet anyone in a certain school for Warlocks, even to the parts undescribed, and find them as deep and vibrant as anything set down in the published text. Every character–no matter how small–has a name, a history, hopes and opinions. Every stone has a story. If we were to properly explore this work, we had to get to the real magic that makes it work-only then could we truly mess it up. We took our bit-part players and brought them to the forefront: our two ever-present nameless students received names, motivations, and relationships that were all their own. And since they were in every sketch, this fleshing-out knitted our naturally frenetic sketch show together in surprising ways. Bound with character flesh, a narrative crept up from the basement of the backwoods cabin of our minds. We called it Huffle Puffed because the Necronomicon was already taken. Rowling’s classic characters were still there, but now they had competition for the spotlight. A few of them grew very angry about this. What we had started to craft was a meta-aware theatrical rumination akin to Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, a visceral bildungsroman in the vein of Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye. What we got when we finished was another Potter fan-fic with a bunch of R-rated jokes.