A dark cave. In the middle, a caldron boiling. Thunder.
Enter the three Witches.
1 WITCH. Thrice the fishy fish hath twined.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the fam'ly dined.
3 WITCH. Mother cries: 'tis time! 'tis time!
1 WITCH. Round about the kitchen go;
In the poison'd cookies throw.
Snails, who without a thought,
Captured slime that hell hath wrought;
Swelter'd steam go up the flue,
Boil thou first the Jana goo!
ALL. Weather, weather, boils and feather;
Conjure Jana from the nether!
Witches ad-lib more two more verses with imaginary spell ingredients. Man, that's a lot of work.
MacFluffin enters, visibly upset.
MacFluffin. Ay! For towhich thou hast wrought herminity upon thy
Witches cackle, then disappear in a puff of smoke, which goes up the flue.
MacFluffin. Aught! Wherefore this always happens?