01 - Pongwiffy a Witch of Dirty Habits by Kaye Umansky - (ebook by Undead)

and leader of the
Familiars, had been defeated by a Hamster. Dudley, aware of the shocked eyes,
muttered something about having a bad back, and slunk off to lick his wounds.
Sharkadder scuttled off after him, crying, “I’ll never speak to you again,
Pongwiffy!”
    Pongwiffy scooped Hugo up and held him triumphantly aloft. The Witches and
their Familiars gave a great cheer and crowded in, full of admiration and
congratulations, wanting to be the first to shake the new champion by the paw.
    “He’s small, I know,” babbled Pongwiffy. “And sort of cute, I’m afraid. But
he’s got guts, and he does his best. That’s what counts.”
    Hugo sat on her shoulder, shaking hands and trying to look casual. But
inside, he was glowing. He’d made the grade. He’d struck a blow for Hamsters
everywhere. His future was mapped out, and he had a real career before him.
    “Vat about anuzzer sandvich?” he said.
    “Not a chance,” said Grandwitch Sourmuddle, crawling out from beneath an empty
trestle table. “I just finished the last one. And now I think it’s time to cut
my cake.”

 
     
CHAPTER FIVE
LITTLE PIECES OF PAPER
     
     
    “These Sabbats are really boring,” complained Pongwiffy to Grandwitch
Sourmuddle a few weeks later. “Nothing exciting’s happened since Hugo put Dudley
in his place. That was ages ago.”
    Sourmuddle unclamped her toothless gums from a stale spiderspread sandwich and
said, “I’m sure this bread is left over from last month. I recognise the green
speckly bits.”
    “That’s what I mean. Even the food’s awful. All we ever do is eat old
sandwiches and swap old news. Dull. Dull-dull-dull. Dull as ditchwater.”
    “Ditchwater can be quite tasty at times. Depends what’s swimming in it.”
Sourmuddle dug out a green speckle of mould with a dirty fingernail and tasted
it experimentally. “Hmm. Definitely last month’s, that.”
    “We should do something different. For a change,” mused Pongwiffy. “We ought
to rack our brains and think of ideas. Write them down on little pieces of paper
and put them in a hat. I’m sure something would come out of it.”
    “I know what’d come out of it,” said Grandwitch Sourmuddle wisely.
    “What?”
    “Little pieces of paper. Tee hee hee.”
    “Oh, there’s no point in talking to you,” snapped Pongwiffy crossly. “If
you’re happy to be mistress of the most boring Coven in the whole world, that’s
up to you. I suppose you can’t help it if you’re so old you don’t like a bit of
fun now and then.”
    “Me not like fun? Certainly I like fun, how dare you. I am a Fun-loving
Person, and if you don’t apologise I shall make your nose drop off. That’d be
really funny.”
    “Sorry,” said Pongwiffy sulkily. She was fond of her nose.
    “What for?” said Sourmuddle, who had already forgotten. “What were we talking
about?”
    “How boring our Sabbats are,” explained Pongwiffy patiently. “I was saying we
should all put our heads together, and…”
    “What, in a big pile, you mean? Then when the music stops we all rush in and
grab one, and the one who doesn’t…”
    “No, no! I didn’t mean that at all. It’s just a figure of speech.”
    “Oh. Pity. It sounded fun,” said Sourmuddle, disappointed. “Though I’m not
sure I know a head removing spell. Not off-hand. You’d need your head screwed on
to think of a spell like that. Tee hee hee.”
    Pongwiffy sighed. “Look, forget about the heads, Sourmuddle. I only meant
that we ought to come up with some suggestions for interesting things to do.”
    “Oh, I see. To make the Sabbats less boring, you mean. Wait a minute!
We could think of some things to do which would be fun, and have a really good
time!”
    “Exactly!”
    “What a good idea. I might be getting on a bit, but I do come up with these
good ideas from time to time.”
    “But it was my idea!” protested Pongwiffy.
    “What was? Look, never mind about your idea now, Pongwiffy, let’s