“Enough of this mirror trash, tell us how you escaped from the Ghoul King’s castle.” Norman waved his limestone arms. “What happened to you?”
Hezekiah Hester ignored Norman. “I stood there peering into the mirror. A dot was getting larger. Suddenly a giant,” She waved her arms and jumped at her audience. “A giant eye appeared.”
“A giant eye,” the witches and warlocks moaned softly and leaned back
“A giant eye,” the demons and imps shuddered.
“A giant eye,” the banshees huddled for security.
“It winked at me. Then it asked me what I wanted.” Hezekiah Hester stared out with her white eyes. “I was scared and nervous. I didn’t know what to say. Then I said Mirror, mirror on the wall, what I want is to be admired by all. The whole mirror buckled and rolled, cigar smoke billowed out and it began laughing.”
“Did you run?” The Ironshire Witch asked
“When I woke up, I was strapped to an operating table. An old mad troll was asking me questions. What color skin did I want? What color hair? What color eyes. I told him: white skin, black hair and green eyes.”
“What happened? You didn’t get those things.”
“Someone blew cigar smoke in my face. I passed out again. But before I did, I heard the troll say, ‘here’s the magic paint you wanted.’”