“Megan’s a what, now?”

“She’s a straight up, dyed in the wool, city witch.”

“Oh, come on. You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then how do you reckon she’s a witch?”

“Are you blind? She routinely walks a mutated hellhound after midnight, Ubers dragons to get her witchy ass around town, that penthouse suite of hers is made entirely of gingerbread, and all the children in her apartment complex have mysteriously gone missing since she moved in.”

“Sounds more like wild speculation and coincidence than actual proof. You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you?”

“Jealous of what? Her unhealthy appetite for our future generation?”

“That perhaps people find her a little more interesting than you?”

“Just because she bathes in the blood of innocents and bakes her bread with human bones, does not make her more interesting than me! Wait, please tell me you’re not thinking about hooking up with her.”

“Would it really be all that bad?”

“Um, did you miss the bit about the missing kids?”

“Well, were they good kids, or, you know…like…the other kind?”

“That shouldn’t matter! Children are sacrosanct!”

“More like sacrificed, if your suspicions are correct.”

“I give up. Do what you want. On your head be it.”

“Only if I’m lucky.”

“You are so incredibly disgusting.”

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys