boil until trouble
She re-read the spell carefully. All of the spells so far had been excellent, but this one was the most complex yet.
Eye of newt.
Dried Owl nail.
yes, yes. perfect. boil till trouble. yes.
Where was she going to find a plump child in this neighborhood? Rents were too high and families didn’t live in the city anymore. really? It’s 2017 – couldn’t they find some kind of magical vegetarian substitute for a plump child? What if the child wasn’t plump and she had to keep it caged and fed on lemon meringue pies and snickerdoodles?
This spell is too much work. TOO. MUCH!
All the squirming and the crying when they go in the pot, worse than lobsters for hell’s sake. Well, this wouldn’t do. The last thing she needed was snooper wondering if she’d abducted the plump little child from the international school playground.
And who the hell creates a spell with only three tablespoons of fresh plump child, what was she supposed to do with the rest? She didn’t have enough tupperwares.
She reached out and stroked the fur of the cat. Thank goodness for her familiar, the one being who understood her. He let out a loud purr of satisfaction.
She set the book down and moved to her computer.
She gently typed, “Dried essence of plump child. overnight delivery.” and with a wave of her grizzled hand – it began its search.