"Can I take the special potion?" Peter asked a little nervously, the witch was an intimating figure, after all, "I'd like that." The witch smiled, and pushed the potion towards him, but kept her hand on it as her piercing violet eyes met his. Peter gazed at her back, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"When you drink this," the witch explained, "All you have to do is put your hand to your stomach, and wish what weight you want to be. If you're not sure, just say fatter, or chubbier, or thinner," she waved her hand, "It will all work. You can also specify body parts," she added, mischievously, "If you wanted to gain forty pounds in your stomach, just ask. The potion will know what you mean. It's clever like that." With that she moved her hand away, gesturing for Peter to drink. It tasted minty, creamy, and made his stomach tingle as he drank it down. Peter set the empty bottle down. He felt no different, he looked questioningly to the witch.
"Try it out," she suggested, resting her chin down against her folded hands, "Go on." Peter held his hand to his stomach, and wished...
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