“The only thing you can do is abrogate this curse.”
—John DeChancie, Bride of the Castle, p.82
Removing any curse isn’t a joking matter. It generally involves some sort of live chickens and vodoun charms, or frummery with demons and candles and chants. Depending on the curse’s origin, of course.
Beneficent knew the work of her sister Angrat very well, through years of bitter experience. This wouldn’t be easy.
Back in school Angrat aced all of the Hexes and Curses classes. Beneficent was inclined more towards divination, she’d only barely managed a passing grade. No chance to match her sister for subtlety, or even analyze the curse for a weak spot. There wouldn’t be one.
But Beneficent had one card to play.
Mom.
She fetched her crystal ball from the luggage and speed-dialed “2”.
***
Some time later, after shooing the bemused room service waiter out the door, Beneficent waved the Colonel’s Crispy Bucket over her new husband’s head, chanting a few required mystic phrases and a few choice oaths about Angrat. A little sprinkle of wolvesbane (fifty gold pieces at these outrageous room service prices), and the counter-spell was done.
For the first time in Beneficent’s life, she was well and truly furious at her evil twin. This time, Angrat, you have just gone too far.
Her new husband Très Charmant returned from the restroom, looking much relieved. And blushed furiously as he climbed back into bed.
So the honeymoon continued. The rest is nobody’s business, Beneficent (wisely) draped a towel over the crystal ball.
Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.
ParkInkSpot 