"Now you will only be able to speak in Shakespearean

"Now you will only be able to speak in Shakespearean vernacular." The kitschy witch laughed as the girl screamed in pain. Millennial ebonics were her life. Slang was her life force

Backwards, as she tended to do when nervous. The giant furry hand was above her, screaming bloody murder unless she went to Coventry. Unfortunately, Coventry was 16,240 miles away!

"Lets make a deal", she blurted out, "you let me stay here for a year & I will teach your horse to fly. If I can't then I will go to Coventry but if I do then I can go whenever I

have gas. The herbs there are quite potent in treating my condition." "Deal" I said, "What's the first lesson for teaching a horse to fly?" "Well, it's simple really, you just need

to ask the horse to point his anus at the ground when he feels some gas coming on and poom! Flying horse!" It seemed easy enough at the time, but try getting a horse to squat.

I offered Old Bill a hundred dollars if he could make my horse squat. "But you have to be sitting on him when he squats," I added. I didn't like Old Bill, obviously, but I knew

that if ANYBODY could sit on a squatting horse...Old Bill just had to be the guy. It was a pity honestly, as I watched in disbelief at Bill's feat--somebody snuck up behind me and

gave me a wedgie that lifted me 2 feet off the ground. When I landed I turned to face the perpetrator, forgetting all about Bill and the squatting horse. Boy, was I shocked when

the horse had his teeth in the back of my underwear. I wriggled and squirmed, but the horse was relentless and I achieved nothing but wedging the fabric further up my ass. Ouch!