She turned the faded parchment of the ancient wiccan text.
Mmm. Too passÃ©
She licked her lips. Lit the black candle. Poured the final roiling tincture into the bubbling caldron. And with a wicked glint in her eye, muttered the final incantation.
Only kidding, possums–been too busy to play. But Gaz, you know what you can do with all that hair. Make yourself a wig, baldy!
And Dex. I like it!