Witching Hour

Witching Hour

          "You're late again, Bertha. This is the third time you have either forgotten or slacked off our meetings this month. I would say once more, and you're out, but that was two meetings ago." Hagathor harrumphed.

          "I had problems getting the ingredients for this week. The eye of a newt, a hummingbird's tongue, and a blue frog's toes were easy. Finding the nose hair of a chicken was the tough one. You could have also warned me that the tear of a zebra didn't include telling a depressing story."

          "Well, you got them, and that's all that matters. Just put them in the cauldron so we can begin the incantation. It's almost midnight, and we don't want to miss another Witching Hour."

          Bertha turned to place the ingredients in the cauldron but did not see where they usually sat. She questioned Hagathor. "Where did you place it? I don't see it anywhere. I can't just drop them in the dirt, you know."

          Without turning around, Hagathor states, "It's by the bottle of tiger tears. It's a big round pot. You can't miss it."

          Bertha walked over to the bottle, walked around it, and waved her hand to ensure the cauldron wasn't invisible. Satisfied, she turns back to Hagathor, "Either you or me is delirious because I can't see your cauldron."

         Turning around, Hagathor finally sees the missing cauldron, swears, and spits on the ground.

         "All right, we can't miss the Witching Hour again. I got an idea. We will use 'Plan G'. It is a long stretch for a real cauldron, but it's pretty big, will hold everything we have, and will keep the heat long enough for our spell to work."

         "Will Plan G work?"

         "It has to. Bring me Goofy's shoe."


295 Words