01 - Pongwiffy a Witch of Dirty Habits Read Online Free PDF Page B

wicked-looking little teeth, and a deep growl rumbled and throbbed in his
small throat. If he had had a tail to speak of, it would have lashed. He didn’t,
so instead he lashed his whiskers. He was indeed an awesome sight. Pongwiffy eyed
him uneasily. After a moment, he gave a little shake, his fur flattened, his
whiskers subsided, and he sat down and scratched his left ear with his right
hind leg. Pongwiffy wondered if she had imagined it.
    “You ’ave sumpsink to eat?” he asked. “Little bit of carrot? Apple, maybe? I
come a long vay from ’ome.”
    “No,” said Pongwiffy. “Go away. The interview’s over.”
    “Ow can zis be? You ’ave not asked me questions.”
    Pongwiffy sighed. It was getting late, and she still hadn’t had her supper.
This pushy Hamster was beginning to get on her nerves.
    “Now listen,” she snapped. “Put yourself in my place—er…”
    “’Ugo. Viz an H.”
    “Yes, yes, whatever your silly name is. Now, how do you think it would look
if I turned up at the next Sabbat with you in tow? I’d die of embarrassment. All
the others will be there with their Familiars…”
    “Uzzers? Vat uzzers?”
    “The other Witches in the Coven. Thirteen of us, including me. That’s the
right number for a Coven, you know.”
    “Tell me about zem,” said Hugo, sounding interested.
    “Well now, there’s Grandwitch Sourmuddle, of course, she’s Mistress of the
Coven. Her Familiar’s a Demon, name of Snoop. Then there’s Sharkadder, my best
friend, she’s got Dead Eye Dudley. Cats are always popular as Familiars.
Agglebag and Bagaggle—that’s the twins—they’ve got Cats too, Siamese ones,
IdentiKit and CopiCat. Witch Macabre, she’s got that hideous Haggis creature,
Rory. Bendyshanks, now, she’s got a Snake, and Gaga—well, she’s Bats, of course.
Sludgegooey’s got this Fiend called Filth, he plays the drums, you know. Then
there’s Bonidle, she’s got a Sloth. Scrofula’s got a Vulture, Greymatter’s got
an Owl, and Ratsnappy’s got a Rat. I think that’s everybody.”
    “Except you. You ’ave nussink.”
    “Yes, and I’d sooner have nussink than a Hamster, thanks very much. The very
idea!”
    “Ah. But me, I am not just any ’amster.”
    “All Hamsters are the same to me, kiddo. Now off you go, there’s a good
little chap. You’ve wasted enough of my time. Run away and be somebody’s pet.”
     
    EEEEEEAAAAAOOOOERRGROO!!
     
    A piercing scream of anguish shattered the peace of the night. Twirling
around on the spot, Pongwiffy clamped her hand to her left earlobe, which had
developed a sharp, agonising pain. It was the sort of pain you might get if a
small Hamster was attached by its teeth to your ear. That sort of pain.
    “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!” gasped Pongwiffy in breathless little screams, hopping
on the spot and flapping vainly at the small dangling bundle of fur just outside
her vision. “Ah, ah, AH! LEGGO! GERROFF! GERROFF!”
    Hugo hung on.
    “LEGGO, I say! LET GO, OR I’LL PUT YOU THROUGH THE MINCER! I WILL, I’M
WARNING YOUUUUUUUU…”
    Hugo hung on.
    “DO YOU WANT TO BE A HAMSTER-BURGER? DO YOU? AH, AH, AH, AH!” Pongwiffy
danced around, braying piteously through gritted teeth.
    Hugo hung on.
    “Please!” whimpered Pongwiffy, changing tack, begging now. “Let go and I’ll
give you crumbs! Hundreds of ’em. I’ll give you an apple core, promise!
PROMISE!”
    Hugo hung on.
    Pongwiffy danced around the room a bit more. The Toad-in-the-Hole clapped,
enjoying her performance.
    “I’LL PUT A SPELL ON YOU! I WILL! JUST YOU WAIT!” raged Pongwiffy, and
searched her brains for a spell to dislodge Hamsters from earlobes. The search
was in vain. Her brain was empty of all but one word. The word said PAIN.
    “What is it you want? What? WHAT?” snivelled Pongwiffy with tears in her
eyes.
    “Trial,” said Hugo, as distinctly as he could through a mouthful of earlobe.
“Proper trial. Zen you decide if I goot or not.”
    “All right,