"Scrabble, Mousetrap, Clue, and Trouble," the witch moaned as she stirred her cauldron ominously.
"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Mogey whispered. He and Smush stood across the glowing pot of witch's brew, shivering in the moonless night.
"We've got to do it!" Smush replied quietly. "If we don't get this strength potion, Howie Wheeler and Bart Gimick are just going to keep taking our lunch money until we haven't got any left. Then they'll start stealing our clothes!"
"Silence!" the witch cried. "The toad you brought requires the utmost quiet in order to infuse the potion with his toadiness."
The toad calmly presided over the brewing process atop a stool and didn't appear at all perturbed by their conversation, but Mogey and Smush hushed up nonetheless. The witch gave the potion a final stir, then produced a pinch of some mysterious powder from the depths of her robes, which she deposited into the cauldron with a flourish.
Emitting a thunderous POP the cauldron immediately burst forth a fireball the size of a small horse, which knocked Mogey and Smush to the ground and singed the witch's eyebrows.
"Ribbit," said the toad from atop his perch. The witch leaned in close, carefully inspecting the creature.
"This isn't a toad at all!" she shrieked. "You've brought me a frog dipped in grapenuts!"
"Sorry," Smush replied, shrugging his shoulders. "We don't have many toads near our house."
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