Shannon despaired. She had no purple in her

Shannon despaired. She had no purple in her Prosperity sector. She had a spiral staircase and spiral staircases drain chi faster than a rat up a drainpipe. As for her Career corner

, the birdbath was drier than a bag of tuna flakes, and the songbirds were parched. "Word shan't get out, Lynn," Shannon said. She chained her realtor to the Fame chamber's furnace

and set the furnace to "Explode". "It was nice knowing you." Shannon told her realtor as she strutted out of the basement. "Damn you, you devil-witch!" the realtor cried, as he

struggled to break himself free from the bonds that stuck him in this predicament. As Shannon departed the building she thought of how delightfully painful the moment to come would

taste. She hoped it tasted like warm pulsing blood. She was hoping for blood. She had no illusions, she knew he was going to be hurting but she felt it was what he deserved. She de

cided to name their firstborn baby "Samsung". It sounded Wiccan to her. But motherhood didn't quell her craving for fresh, beating hearts. That veined, muscular, hot meat left its

indelible taste in one's soul. The more tortured, the more indelible. In keeping with the new PC leanings of the Wiccan Council, she refused to genderize Samsung. Fecundity became

stinkified and verboten. New initiates were handed 45 rpm disks and left to their own devices. It was only Arborata Shalaam who came back to the Wiccan Council and said:

"Sisters and Brothers, I think I've broken a record." The Wiccan Council gaped at Arborata, for breaking a record was an act of sacrilege. She was thrown out of the coven and

excommunicated excommunicated which in the Wiccan Council communicated her to all Wiccan practitioners, fellow travelers, and general hang around types that she was a free witch.