Spitfire Words

Aggie never really considered that ‘eye of newt and tongue of bat’ was impractical and probably more Shakespeare than Satanism. It wasn’t really something a normal person thought of. At least, not usually.

Mixing weird ingredients together to serve to her cheating husband seemed more a petty act of revenge than a potion to ensnare a demon to her will. Who knew mouldy strawberries, pasta and mustard could have such a dramatic effect?

In retrospect, the muttering probably didn’t help. There were probably a few ‘I wishes’ in there, and really, her angry music was a little on the noisy side. Probably sounded very evil and demonic through a bubbling saucepan of godknowswhat. Beelzabub wasn’t to know that Aggie wasn’t really serious about wishing for Dan’s testicles to erupt in painful boils. Mostly.

So really, it was an honest mistake that summoned the small red demon sat on her kitchen table pulling half cooked spaghetti and mayonnaise off his pitchfork.

But, well. She couldn’t very well send him back without giving the poor fellow something to do. He had come a very long way.

Dan would recover, given time, she was sure.

Mostly.

Husband stealing Sally would, too.