Witch's Brew

The cauldron hissed and spat as Gelinda threw the ingredients in with force.

“Urgh! She’s such a …a witch! Can’t make a decent brew can I eh, Myrtella?” she squinted over the large wart on her crooked nose at the dusty tome on the bookstand. “Eye of newt… aha.” As she cast it into the swirling potion a mushroom cloud of smoke erupted from the pot making her cough.

“Well, let’s see how you like this then!” Gelinda started to cackle only to choke on the lingering fog. Grabbing the blue glass bottle that glinted in the candlelight she grinned as she added a generous glug of its clear contents. Then, just for good measure she added some more with a shrug. After a last stir she ladled the still smoking, poison green potion into four dusty highball glasses.

“Now, just the final touch to make a truly killer concoction.” She held a pewter shaker aloft with reverence. “Cinnamon.”

Clutching it tight to her chest, Gelinda ran back to the swing door and peeped at the three unsuspecting victims sipping on their apparently subpar tea. She stifled a wicked laugh and scurried back to the counter to shake the cinnamon over the glasses, before transforming back to her stylish Stepford wife facade. She picked up the tray and walked back to her guests with a glittering smile. “Cocktail time ladies!”

“Ooo girl! You so wicked!” Myrtella crowed.

Gelinda tittered. “You don’t know the half of it!”


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