The Meanest Witch
The kingdom of Puddledunk had a king, a prime minister, an army of knights, and a little princess who loved fairy tales. But unlike other kingdoms, Puddledunk had two witches.
The first witch, Anniebeemeenie, had a tall pointy hat and long pointy shoes. The second witch, Annabeetoo, had puffy blue eyes and puffy blonde hair and a beauty spot on her puffy nose. Both witches lived in cottages on Thistle Street.
“Two witches,” boasted the people of Puddledunk. “That’ll bring us luck!”
And it did—until the day that Annabeetoo accidentally stepped on one of Anniebeemeenie’s pointy toes.
“Watch where you’re going, you old witch!” cried Anniebeemeenie.
“Don’t call me an old witch, you old witch!” cried Annabeetoo. “I’m the meanest witch that ever was!”
“Oh yeah?” hissed Anniebeemeenie. “Betcha I’m meaner than you!”
Shazam! With a zing of pointy magic, a woodpecker drilled on Anna’s puffy nose.
“I’m meaner!” howled Anna.
Shazoom! With a boom of puffy magic, an elephant bounced on Annie’s sore toe.
Thus began the witches’ feud. In spite of the zinging and the booming, the people of Puddledunk might not have worried except that the witches got sloppy. Their magic splashed all over the kingdom.
“I’m
meaner!” Shazam! Zing!
“Oh, yuck,” said Annabeetoo, glaring at her curdled cornflakes.
“Yuck,” said the people of Puddledunk, sniffing their smelly cereal. Only the little princess, who liked sour cream, did not complain.
“I’m meaner!” Shazoom! Boom!
The people of Puddledunk stormed up the path to the castle. “You’ve got to stop those witches,” they told the king.
The king frowned and went to consult his Book of Traditional Kingship.
“Tradition knows best!” he proclaimed. “We need a hero! And the traditional reward for a hero—is a princess. The man who can stop those witches will marry my daughter!”
The little princess looked up from her book of fairy tales. “That’s generous of you, Dad,” she said. “But don’t you think . . . ?”
“I will go,” said the prime minister. “I will talk reason to the witches.”
The people of Puddledunk all agreed the prime minister was the most reasonable person in the kingdom. So the prime minister knocked reasonably on both witches’ doors.
“The king has sent me,” he announced, “to talk sense to you two ladies. Won’t you just forget this silly disagreement and be friends?”
“Talk sense?” yowled Annie. Shazam! Zing!
“Silly disagreement?” growled Anna. Shazoom! Boom!
The prime minister hopped back up the path to the castle.
“I’m sorry to report, Sire,” he croaked, “that reason has failed.”
“Then force will prevail,” cried the king’s knights.
“Well, you can’t all marry my daughter,” sighed the king. “But I’d really be grateful if there’s anything you could do to help.”
The little princess looked up again from her book. “You’re all wonderfully brave, but wouldn’t it be better . . . ?”
“Hurray for the brave knights!” the people of Puddledunk cheered.
The knights of Puddledunk donned their iron armor. They sharpened their steel swords. They marched bravely down the path, as the people of Puddledunk cheered loudly.
“Yo, old witches!” they roared. “If you don’t stop right now, you’ll be sorry!”
Shazam! Zing!
Shazoom! Boom!
The knights slipped and slid back up the path.
“We’re sorry to report, Sire,” they said, “that force has failed.” The knights took off their marshmallow armor. They hung up their mushy-banana swords.
“What
will we do?” wailed the people of Puddledunk.
The little princess closed her book. Without a word to anybody, she slipped off to Thistle Street.
“Yoo-hoo,” she called. “I have a message for the meanest witch in Puddledunk.”
“That’s me!” Anniebeemeenie stuck her pointy toes out her door.
“No, me!” Annabeetoo popped her puffy nose out her door.
The two witches glared at each other.
“I have a little prize,” said the princess, “for the meanest witch.”
“Give it to me,” snapped Annie, “or I’ll turn you into a bat!”
“What fun!” said the princess. “I’ve never been a bat. You can’t be the meanest witch.”
“Give it to me,” demanded Anna, “or I’ll put you to sleep for a hundred years!”
“How restful!” sighed the princess. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. You’re not very mean either.”
The two witches looked at each other. “What do we have to do to win the prize?” they asked.
“Life in Puddledunk was so boring,” said the princess, “until you two started to fight. The meanest thing you could do would be to put everything back the way it was. And never fight again.”
“I can do that!” cried Anniebeemeenie.
Shazam! Zing!
“So can I!” cried Annabeetoo.
Shazoom! Boom!
“So who wins the prize?” asked the witches.
“You both do.” The princess kissed each witch on the cheek. “You’re the two meanest witches in Puddledunk!”
“Hooray!” cried Anniebeemeenie.
“And now that that’s settled,” said Annabeetoo to Anniebeemeenie, “come to my cottage. I’ll make us a pot of bat-wing tea.”
“My favorite!” cooed Anniebeemeenie. The witches strolled off arm in arm.
The princess walked back to the castle. Now she didn’t have to marry anybody. And she could go back to her book of fairy tales.
