The Witch's Brew: A Collection of Hilarious Short Stories Starring the Wicked Witch of the West by Darrin Mason

the top. Police helicopters flew through the air, shining their spotlights at the Bumpa-Lumpa who took the chance to show how good a dancer he was by doing a waltz. The three judges each gave him a nine which was good enough for second place. Problem was that second place wasn’t good enough for the Bumpa-Lumpa. He threw the Wicked Witch away in disgust and kicked the podium which went flying through the air and hit David Let’s Beg Him to play just One More Game of Football above the left eye, causing his skin to break and blood to spill. This one incident was the straw that broke the camel’s back and soon the brilliant right winger left the club he had been at for more than a decade and headed for Italy. He finished his career in France and is now thinking of buying a franchise in the MSL. It sure as hell beats buying French fries at McDonalds.
    The Wicked Witch ran back to the cave where Wally Winka was laying on the ground waiting for her. “We’ve gotta get away from here, Wally. Now!!”
    Wally shook his head. “I was hit, Wendy.”
    Wendy reached over and moved away the leaves Wally was holding over his stomach. There was blood and guts all over the place. He would probably die, but there ain’t no way he was dying there. She lifted him over her shoulder and began to run. Along the way she passed a man running in the other direction. In fact, he was running back to the cave. She called out to him, “Stop running, Forrest, s top running.” But he didn’t stop. He just kept on running. And when he was hungry, he ate. When he was thirsty, he drank. When he wanted to go to the bathroom, he ran right there into the cave. He soon came face to face with Osama’s been Laden with Bullets and stopped dead in his tracks. “Welcome, Forrest,” Osama said. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He threw an arm around Forrest’s shoulder, led him toward the back of the cave, and asked, “Have you ever seen two dogs having sex?” Forrest looked back over his shoulder at Wendy then disappeared into the darkness.
    Wendy turned and ran with Wally to where the helicopters were going to land and take them to safety. She laid him on the ground and Wally said, “My whole family have been shrimp boat captains, Wendy. And now it’s your turn.” He coughed up some blood then said, “When you get back, I want you to ...”
    Wendy asked, “You want me to captain your little boat?”
    Wally frowned. “Little boat? What the fuck are you talking about?”
    Before she could reply, Wally closed his eyes and died. Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, a group of bible-bashing Bumpa-Lumpas met in a bar and drank a beer in memory of the man they called, Wizard. Of course, none of them were in any state to drive at the end of the night so they called a cab to come pick them up. They climbed into the cab and it drove off. An oncoming semi trailer veered onto the wrong side of the road and it smashed head-first into the cab, killing both drivers and a group of drunken Bumpa-Lumpas. As their spirits rose toward Heaven, they were heard to sing, “We’re off to see our Father, who art in Heaven, because, because, because, because, because, because we got hit by a semi-trailer, do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do. We’re off to see our Father, who art in Heaven.” Now, God doesn’t take people that drink so he sent them down to the Devil who answered the door and, upon seeing the group of bible-bashing Bumpa-Lumpas, was heard to remark, “Holy flock in Hell.” And there you go.
    The Devil opened the door wide and the Bumpa-Lumpas went inside. They were dreadfully drunk still and were oblivious to the danger they were in as the Devil showed them to the juicing room and closed the door behind them. If nothing else, you now know where they really get orange juice.
    Back on the water’s edge somewhere in Vietnam, the Wicked Witch was cradling Wally’s dead body. She looked up at the helicopters flying overhead. One of them was preparing to