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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1167357-The-Warlocks-Holiday-Season
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1167357
Written for the Slapstick And Sorcery contest
The Warlock’s Holiday Season



The young man shifted uncomfortably on the gurney, the stiff, light green gown barely covering his extremities. “Is this necessary, Dr Penndorf?” he asked with trepidation.

The doctor smiled. “I see a lot of these types of injuries, especially around this time of year.”

“Um… What time of year, Doc?”

“Why, the holiday season, Victor. For normal humans, it is a particularly stressful time; but for young warlocks such as yourself, well…”

“Are you saying, that because I am a male witch, my temper gets the best of me?”

“Obviously, yes, and that of those around you.” the doctor replied, growing impatient. “Now, turn over on your side, and let us get a look at it.”

Grimacing in pain, Victor transferred his weight to his left elbow and presented his back to the doctor.

“Hmmm… Interesting…”

“What in Merlin’s name is it?”

The doctor stifled a chuckle. “Were you by any chance flying when this injury occurred?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

The doctor continued his query. “Did you happen to have an altercation with another warlock while you were flying?”

“Yes I did, but I don’t see why this has anything to do with… OW! SON OF A WEREWOLF THAT HURTS!”

Dr Penndorf waved his wand over Victor’s forehead and the young man blessedly went to sleep. Wiping perspiration from his forehead, he turned to his shapely nurse, Mathilda. “Matty, how is the patient in room eleven?”

“You know, about the same as this one. Shame, that is.”

“Did he tell you what happened? This one has been a little reluctant.”

“Well,” Mathilda drawled in an exaggerated New York accent, “He said he was flying to the local apothecary to buy some potion supplies, when another warlock pulled in front of his broom, cutting him off.”

“Ahh, I see, continue!”

“Well, when that guy cut him off, he yelled ‘UP YOURS!’ Patient eleven said this fella turned around and shouted, ’No, UP YOURS!’… After that, he blacked out. Quite a tragedy, don’t cha think?”

That would explain a lot, thought Dr. Penndorf, as he held up the handle of the flying broom that had formerly been inside his patient.


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