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September 2010
October 2010

2010-09-14 »

Poetry Adaptation

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 shoustest?

Witches cackle, then disappear in a puff of smoke, which goes up the flue.

    MacFluffin. Aught! Wherefore this always happens?

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