Following the controversial publication of 'A Casual Vacancy', J.K Rowling's first foray into serious literature in which absolutely no wizards blow up dragons from the back of invisible phoenixes, a band of plucky English teenagers have come forward earlier today, claiming to have banished the evil 'Booker Wizard' from the rear of the Scottish author's cranium and back to the blackness from whence it came.
'A Casual Vacancy', which has received mixed reviews for its use of sexual violence, its bleak depictions of middle England and its tremendous lack of giants was published earlier this month by Random House; the publishing based on a secluded old island past a tempestuous sea that only one ancient railroad visits every full moon.
Rowling's announcement of the novel raised concerns among her core audience of children and Guardian readers when it was revealed that it would be aimed at a mature audience. Many were put off by this departure and the internet and the publishing world were awash with speculation in the intervening months as Rowling leaked details and (perhaps significantly) began appearing in public wearing an enormous turban with which she often appeared to be whispering.
However, following a pitched battle at around 11am today between the back of the 47 year old author's head and three plucky schoolchildren, the apparition appeared to vanish, having been bested by a spell made out of the purest emotion there is: a love of selling millions of books. The head-dwelling apparition paused only to shout "curssssses" and promise to return for larger and darker battles with the kids. A freed Rowling then took the children for a delightfully eccentric high tea, wherein she promised to once again begin writing about children and unicorns and Robbie Coltraine and lashings of wizards having a grand old time.
Acording to the precocious young Annabelle Fiddlethrump, whose bookish expertise proved key to the battle, the evil literature daemon was traced back to He Who Shall Not be Named, who was later revealed to be a pseudonym for Martin Amis. The erudite and darkly satirical Amis, whose novels are reputed to disdain broomstick jousting matches is suspected of entering Rowling’s scalp during the her testimony at the Leveson enquiry where she was seen carrying a well thumbed copy of ‘London Fields’ (which is thought to contain a shard of his soul.
Experts say that it is at this juncture that Rowling began to harbour the will to write a book about awful middle class people having emotional problems and talking symbolically about politics, instead of a magic orphan’s crusade to save an old Pegasus from a big snake. Rowling claims that this was the first manifestations of the eldritch whisper of Amis
“It was a mistake to try to write anything that did not feature at least seventeen wizards.” Claimed the author, “ These kids have taught me that. In my next book, ‘Hilary Puddles and the Cauldron of Unicorns’, each page will feature more wizards than the last, and that’s a promise. It’s going to be shitting mental.”
“Imagine me trying to write a serious, Daily Mail baiting state of the nation novel! Curse your dark machinations, Amis! Nope, it’s back to centaurs and wands and fuckloads of talking donkeys or whatever.”
“Hooray” cried the children in unison as they all returned to the quaint English railway station where they all disappeared.