The Right Ingredients Hat

        The chief witch took one mouthful of the soup, and spat it out.
        "This is disgusting," she said, not bothering to pull a face because she was quite ugly enough anyway. "What's it supposed to be, Dorothea?"
        Dorothea looked up the table, past all the other witches, to where the chief witch was sitting.
        "It's child broth, Hildegard," she replied, rather nervously.
        "Child broth? Child broth? What kind of 'child' did you use?"
        "Er, I used a naughty one, Hildegard, of course," replied Dorothea, not altogether convincingly.
        "A naughty one. You used a naughty one..." Hildegard scowled, horribly, then shouted. "No way was this a naughty one! I know what naughty children taste like, and this," she waved her hand at the bowl, which immediately started to smoulder, "this was a good one! You only have to smell it, it's vile!"
        The other witches around the table began to mumble.
        "Well hey," said Dorothea, spiritedly. "None of this is my fault you know. There are no naughty children any more! They stay at home all evening doing homework and watching videos and playing computer games. Can I help it if they're not outside throwing bricks at street-lamps and tormenting small animals? You can't expect me to cook healthy, wholesome food without the right ingredients."
        "Well that's where you're wrong, Dorothea," snarled Hildegard. "We can blame you all we want, because we're witches and we're like that. Instead of simply moaning about not having any children to cook, you ought to do something about it!"
        "I agree," said the witch sitting next to Hildegard. "It's ages since I had a decent hand sandwich - "
        " - and as for scrambled leg!" piped up another.
        "OK, OK, you've made your point," snapped Dorothea. "So what do you want me to 'do about it'?"
        "If you can't find any children who are already bad, go out and make them bad," ordered Hildegard. "I can't stand much more of eating grown-ups, they're so tough I almost wish I still had teeth."

* * *


        "Now, children, you will be good with the new baby-sitter, won't you?" asked Emma and Jack's mother.
        "Of course, Mummy," answered Emma, "but I do wish Mrs Thompson could have come."
        "Mrs Thompson couldn't come today, poppet," said her mother, "because for some reason Mr Thompson thinks he is a frog. We're very lucky that Mrs Darque had a card in the newsagent's or we wouldn't have had anybody, and you know what that would have meant."
        "Yes," shouted Jack, who, being younger than his sister, hadn't quite got the hang of the volume control on his voice yet. "You couldn't go to visit Granny in hospital."
        "That's right, Jack," smiled his mother. "Now shall we listen out for Mrs Darque's car? She should be here any - "
        The doorbell rang.
        "Oh! What good timing, that must be her now. I'm surprised we didn't hear her arrive, I expect she walked. Well, I'd better be on my way, or Granny will think I couldn't find the hospital. Remember, you will be good for Mrs Darque, won't you?"
        "Yes, Mummy," answered the children together, as their mother kissed them goodbye.

* * *


        "So," said Mrs Darque, once they were alone. "What are your names?"
        "I'm Emma and he's Jack," replied Emma.
        "You can call me Dorothea," smiled Mrs Darque, displaying an ugly set of toothless gums, "and have I got fantastic news for you! You've been so good recently that I only disguised myself as a baby-sitter, so that I could visit you in secret. I am, in fact, your Fairy Godmother."
        "You look more like a witch to me," frowned Jack.
        "Listen, shorty," growled Dorothea, "I didn't say I was your Fairy Godmother, I said I was hers, OK? Just shut, er," she checked herself, "just shut the door and sit down with me and we'll decide what to do."
        Jack obeyed, but the look he gave Dorothea when she patted his head with her bony hand was not one of somebody completely persuaded...
        "Now, children, because you've been so good, I'll let you be naughty this evening as a treat. Do anything you like, just go ahead, it won't matter, because I'll just magic it better later for you."
        "Are you sure?" asked Emma. "That doesn't sound right to me."
        "How would you know, you little - er, little girl? I'm the one who's been to Fairy Godmother school, and this is how it works, OK?"
        "OK, I suppose."
        Dorothea straightened her rat-wool cardigan. "That's better. Now, tonight you can forget all about doing your homework."
        "That's because I've already done it," said Emma.
        "Oh. Well how about if we play with your computer, then? We can surf the Net awhile, maybe crash someone else's system? And I know some really, er, cool web pages."
        "Can you magic us a free telephone?" asked Jack, suddenly interested.
        "Of course," cackled Dorothea. "Then, I have the address of this great site where they teach you how to make bombs and - "
        "Maybe you should magic us a computer first?" interrupted Emma.
        Dorothea sighed. "You don't have a computer."
        "We don't have a computer, that's right. Not everyone does, you know."
        "Well, let's forget that then. How about - "
        "She can't magic a computer," giggled Jack. "Some Fairy Godmother she is!"
        Dorothea hissed at him. "Well, I could do it," she said, finally, "but I'd be copying its programs illegally, and that would never do for a good Fairy Godmother, like me, now would it? How about if..." she paused. "You do have a video player, don't you?"
        "Yes," said Emma, "why?"
        "I left these great videos on the seat of my broom - "
        "Your what?"
        "My broom-broom, you know, my car. Let me go and get them."
        "Do you have Barbie Saves the Dolphins?" asked Emma, excitedly.
        "Er, not that precise one," answered Dorothea. "I have The Axemen of Death Avenge the Chainsaw Warriors, that might be similar."
        "Oh, I don't think so," said Emma. "It sounds like lots of nasty things happen in it."
        "Well lots of nasty things do happen in it, you idi - er, iddy-biddy girl. That's why it's so much fun to watch."
        "I wouldn't think it was fun," said Jack. "Do you have any cartoons instead?"
        Things were not going the way Dorothea had hoped.
        "Listen, let's just go straight to the wish, shall we? I'm your," she pointed a long, twig-like finger at Emma, "your Fairy Godmother, and you're due a wish. What do you want?"
        "A wish?" clapped Emma.
        "Yes, a wish. How about a million pounds? Or one of your teachers to lose all her hair? Or that big dog across the road to meet with a cruel accident?"
        "I wish," said Emma, "for my Granny to get better."
        The fearful stench of goodness was so great that Dorothea had to grab hold of her nose to stop from smelling it.
        "See, she is a witch," said Jack. "She has a crooked nose just like one."
        "But surely witches are more wicked than her?" said Emma.
        "And she has whiskers on her chin, too. Maybe," he peered at her closely, "maybe she's really a man?"
        "Hey, I'm 300 years old, what do you expect?" complained Dorothea. "We can't keep our looks forever, you know."
        "So do I get my wish or not?" asked Emma.
        "Your wish. The little girl wants to know if she gets her wish." Dorothea was finally losing her temper. "NO YOU DO NOT GET YOUR WISH! YOU GET THE COOKING POT!" With that, and a wave of the magic wand she had secretly hidden inside her shoe, they disappeared in a puff of thunder (or it may have been a clap of smoke).
        Emma and Jack found themselves standing on a table, surrounded by perhaps twenty old hags who looked just like Dorothea only less lovable.
        "These," said the chief witch, slowly, "smell suspiciously like good children to me."
        "Listen, Hildegard," rasped Dorothea, "I've had it with these two drips, and their namby-pamby Barbie Saves the Dolphins attitude. You're supposed to be the one in charge, you make them do something naughty!"
        "Very well," said Hildegard, standing up as straight as she felt small children would think a witch could stand up. "You!" she pointed at Emma. "Do you think it's naughty to bite old ladies?"
        "Yes," said Emma, "I do."
        "How naughty?"
        "Very naughty."
        "Now that's what I wanted to hear," she crowed. "Well I'm 673 years old, and I'm going to stick my horrible bony finger into your mouth and not take it out until you bite it."
        That said, Hildegard clambered onto the table and tottered toward the two children.
        "Do the laugh," said Jack. "You know, that 'ee, hicker-hicker-hicker' laugh that witches do."
        "Ee, hicker-hicker-hicker," laughed Hildegard.
        "I think we're in trouble, Emma," said Jack, suddenly frightened. "She can do the laugh."
        "You're in trouble, sonny, yes," agreed Hildegard, "but don't think you can escape because I've cast a spell on you and your sister and you're stuck right where you are." She put her finger into Emma's mouth.
        "I on't ite ou," said Emma, defiantly.
        "If you don't, you'll be here for years and years," said Hildegard. "Only if I hurt my finger will the spell that holds you here be broken, and the last time I did that by accident was 1856. Of course, if you do bite me, then that will make you naughty, and then we get to eat you! Ee, hicker-hicker-hicker!"
        Emma played for time. "It on't ake ack aughty," she said.
        "Look, girly, I don't care about your little squirt brother. He'll go nuts when he sees you heading for the cauldron, and he's bound to try and hit someone to stop us. Now are you going to bite my finger or what?"
        Suddenly, Emma knew what she must do. She opened her mouth so wide that Hildegard could see her tonsils, then she brought down her teeth as hard as she possibly could.
        Hildegard shrieked in pain, and tried to pull back her hand, but Emma had bitten really deeply and was tugging away at it like she would a really tough piece of nougat. Jack was shocked, and started to cry, but stopped in surprise when he noticed that one by one the witches were clutching at their noses and fainting in heaps.
        Too late, Hildegard realised what was going on. "You bit me to save your brother!" she howled.
        "That's right, you nasty person," replied Emma, freeing Hildegard's hand as she spoke. "It's not what you do, but why you do it that makes you good or bad." She hugged Jack tightly as he ran into her arms.
        "I can still have you arrested for hurting me," said Hildegard, just before she, too, was overcome by the tremendous smell of goodness that Emma's brave deed had caused.
        "No you can't," smiled Emma. "You asked for it."

* * *


        "So, children, have you had a - oh! Where's Mrs Darque?"
        "She had to go early, Mummy," answered Emma. "She had some children round for dinner."
        "Did she leave that old-fashioned broomstick outside the door?" asked her mother. "And where's Jack?"
        "It's past Jack's bed-time, so I put him to bed," said Emma.
        "It's past yours, too," chided her mother, "but I won't be cross, because you've been such a good girl to cope without a baby-sitter."
        "How's Granny?" asked Emma.
        "Well, now that's just the strangest thing," said her mother, taking off her coat. "I'd only just arrived at the hospital when she made a complete recovery. The doctors said they'd never seen anything like it, it was quite uncanny. They're keeping her in overnight in case she gets worse again, but if not she should be out tomorrow morning."
        "She won't get worse again," said Emma, smiling. "It was all done by magic."
        "Magic?" repeated her mother, giving her that sometimes-your-stories-are-just-a-little-too-unbelievable look that all mothers give their children at least three times every day. "I suppose your Fairy Godmother paid you a visit, did she?"
        "Well, not exactly..." replied Emma, thoughtfully.


Copyright © Richard A. Bartle (richard@mud.co.uk)
25th January :\webdes~1\ .htm