Mildred wasn’t quite bad, not per-say. Oh, she had her moments, just like all people do, moments where she would turn random snotty teen aged girls into toads or the occasional trophy wife who cut her off in a monstrous gas gussleing SUV into a goat, but for the most part she lived her life trying to be as normal as possible.
Then it happened, that damn chick living on the West side went all sorts of crazy after her sister died in some kind of accident (“Who really lets a house fall on them? Don’t you see that shit coming from a mile a way? Wouldn’t it make any sort of noise? Seriously? You were surprised by a house, falling on you?” Mildred would often ponder these thoughts while having a brew on the back porch)* and ruined the entire neighbor hood. What with random flying monkeys** in weird vests and Fez’s crapping where ever they damn well please it was becoming quite the biological hazard around these parts.
Given, that’s still a bit to the West, but Mildred could smell it and it was dropping her real estate prices with every soggy “Plop!” of gooey flying monkey bombs. It’s gotten so bad that even the well dressed young men have stopped coming to her door telling she needed to be saved. “Yeah,” she would think at these times, “by a mute Vin Diesel nicely oiled”. With out the constant knocking interrupting her brewing bulk vats of newt’s ear tea (she sold it to health stores as an anti-wrinkle remedy when really, it only gave you the runs but people will do anything to avoid a wrinkle) she became quite productive and had finished 3 months of orders ahead of time and thus had a little free time. Which she used to relax sit on her shaded patio, drinking beer, and watching monkey crap fall from the sky like toxic Hershey kisses (because we all know, poo that is dropped from a distance quite high up speeds toward the earth with a ever increasing velocity shaping it along the way quite like a Hershey kiss).
It was a nice warm day, perfect to enjoy the sunshine, perfect to do a whole lot of nothing when “BAM” it happened, she was hit randomly and with quite an impact by a high speed lawn chair***. Her last thought in life was “Huh, I didn’t see that coming” and she was gone. Leaving only her rolled up socks and empty boots behind.
*I told you she was snarky.
** She STILL couldn’t believe that there wasn’t a sort of permit you would need to get to have at your disposal an army of flying monkeys, apparently though, no bureaucrat had ever thought of it, so alas, there was no law against amassing an army of flying pooping monkeys with in city limits.
***Of the beige resin variety, though the make isn’t important, it is good to note that you don’t need a whole house to kill a witch.
(No I don’t know either, but this is what runs through my brain on a daily basis. Hope you all had a chuckle, & I’d love a comment if you laughed).