I take no responsibility for this. I was bored.

Barty Crouch Jr. meets the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup arena.

[trumpets]
[clap clap clap]
ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen. The next contest is between… Serbia, the Balkan baby-crushers, and Mongolia.
BARTY CROUCH JR: Want some…
VOICE: Thank you, fellows.
BARTY: Popcorn. Chocolate buttons. Snickers. Mars bars. Nachos with cheese. Get ’em while they’re hot. They’re lovely. Potato wedges, only half a sickle. Chilli poppers.
ALECTO: I do feel, Lucius, that any anti-establishment group like ours must reflect such a divergence of interests within its power-base.
LUCIUS: Agreed. Amycus?
AMYCUS: Yeah. I think Alecto’s point of view is very valid, Lucius, provided the Movement never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every man—
MCNAIR: Or woman.
AMYCUS: Or woman… to rid himself—
MCNAIR: Or herself.
AMYCUS: Or herself.
LUCIUS: Agreed.
AMYCUS: Thank you, brother.
MCNAIR: Or sister.
AMYCUS: Or sister. Where was I?
LUCIUS: I think you’d finished.
AMYCUS: Oh. Right.
LUCIUS: Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man—
MCNAIR: Or woman.
LUCIUS: Why don’t you shut up about women, Mcnair. You’re putting us off.
MCNAIR: Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Lucius.
AMYCUS: Why are you always on about women, Mcnair?
MCNAIR: I want to be one.
LUCIUS: What?
MCNAIR: I want to be a woman. From now on, I want you all to call me ‘Minerva’.
LUCIUS: What?!
MINERVA: It’s my right as a man.
ALECTO: Well, why do you want to be Minerva, Mcnair?
MINERVA: I want to have babies.
LUCIUS: You want to have babies?!
MINERVA: It’s every man’s right to have babies if he wants them.
LUCIUS: But… you can’t have babies.
MINERVA: Don’t you oppress me.
LUCIUS: I’m not oppressing you, Mcnair. You haven’t got a womb! Where’s the foetus going to gestate?! You going to keep it in a box?!
MINERVA: [crying]
ALECTO: Here! I— I’ve got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can’t actually have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody’s fault, not even the Muggles, but that he can have the right to have babies.
AMYCUS: Good idea, Alecto. We shall fight the Muggles for your right to have babies, brother. Sister. Sorry.
LUCIUS: What’s the point?
AMYCUS: What?
LUCIUS: What’s the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can’t have babies?!
AMYCUS: It is symbolic of our struggle against the Muggles.
LUCIUS: Symbolic of his struggle against reality.
[trumpets]
[clap clap clap]
GUARD: Get out there.
MONGOLIAN: It’s, um—
GUARD: Get out there.
MONGOLIAN: It’s dangerous out there. Ah ah. Ah! Oh. [clap clap clap] [clank] Ooh.
CROWD: Aaah. Ohh…
SPECTATOR: What a load of rubbish.
BARTY: Popcorn. Chocolate buttons. Snickers.
LUCIUS: Got any pumpkin pasties?
BARTY: I haven’t got any pumpkin pasties. Sorry. I’ve got popcorn, Mars bars—
LUCIUS: No, no, no.
BARTY: Potato wedges?
LUCIUS: I don’t want any of that Muggle rubbish.
ALECTO: Why don’t you sell proper food?
BARTY: Proper food?
LUCIUS: Yeah, not those cheap mudblood tit-bits.
BARTY: Well, don’t blame me. I didn’t ask to sell this stuff.
LUCIUS: All right. Bag of chilli poppers, then.
AMYCUS: Make it two.
LUCIUS: Two.
AMYCUS: Thanks, Lucius.
BARTY: Are you the Death Heaters?
LUCIUS: Fuck off!
BARTY: What?
LUCIUS: Death Heaters. We’re the Death Eaters! Death Heaters. Cawk.
AMYCUS: Wankers.
BARTY: Can I… join your group?
LUCIUS: No. Piss off.
BARTY: I didn’t want to sell this stuff. It’s only a job. I hate the Muggles as much as anybody.
DEATH EATERS: Shhhh. Shhhh. Shhh. Shh. Shhhh.
LUCIUS: Schtum.
ALECTO: Are you sure?
BARTY: Oh, dead sure. I hate the Muggles already.
LUCIUS: Listen. If you really wanted to join the D.E., you’d have to really hate the Muggles.
BARTY: I do!
LUCIUS: Oh, yeah? How much?
BARTY: A lot!
LUCIUS: Right. You’re in. Listen. The only people we hate more than the Muggles are the fucking Mudbloods.
D.E.: Yeah…
ALECTO: Splitters.
D.E.: Splitters…
AMYCUS: And the Death Haters.
D.E.: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Splitters. Splitters…
MINERVA: And the Death Eaters.
D.E.: Yeah. Splitters. Splitters…
LUCIUS: What?
MINERVA: The Death Eaters. Splitters.
LUCIUS: We’re the Death Eaters!
MINERVA: Oh. I thought we were the Death Meters.
LUCIUS: Death Meters! C’huh.
AMYCUS: Whatever happened to the Death Meters, Lucius?
LUCIUS: He’s over there.
D.E.: Splitter!
SERBIAN: [pant pant pant] Ooh. Ooh. I— I think I’m about to have a… cardiac arrest. Ooh. Ooh.
SPECTATOR: Absolutely dreadful. Hmm.
CROWD: [cheering]
LUCIUS: Yes, brother! Ha ha. What’s your name?
BARTY: Barty. Bartemius Crouch Jr.
LUCIUS: We may have a little job for you, Barty.