It was way past midnight when Jennifer set out to brew the elixir. She sat down inside the guest bathroom, with the glow of the full moon flooding through the skylight. The cauldron bubbled over the induction cooktop Jennifer had snuck out of the kitchen under mom's nose (hey, nobody said witches couldn't live in the 21st century!).
The stage was set for things most wicked. Under the careful guidance of the magic book, Jennifer added the ingredients one by one. The water inside the cauldron slowly thickened up into a gloppy, smelly soup. As the potion acquired the elusive color of toejam, it was ready for the piece de resistance: Jennifer's slimy week-old socks.
Your sister held her nose as she fished the nasty footwear out of the container. Her heart beating with anticipation, Jennifer lowered her socks into the cauldron, where they vanished into the bubbling maelstrom. She stared in awe as the potion shimmered in a million shades of green, rancid fumes rising in hypnotizing spirals from the cauldron, before suddenly seizing, remaining still like the surface of a tranquil lake.
"It is done..." the book whispered. "Gaze upon your destiny, young witch!". Incredulous but fascinated, Jennifer peered inside the cauldron, to see a reflection of you, submissive and pathetic, bowing before her bare feet. Did this mean- "Yesss... it is time." the book asserted.
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