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‘I am having my breakfast this morning,’ cried The Grand High Witch, ‘and I am looking out of the vindow at the beach, and vot am I seeing? I am asking you, vot am I seeing? I am seeing a rrreevolting sight! I am seeing hundreds, I am seeing thousands of rrrotten rrree-pulsive little children playing on the sand! It is putting me rrright off my food! Vye have you not got rrrid of them?’ she screamed. ‘Vye have you not rrrubbed them all out, these filthy smelly children?’
With each word she spoke, flecks of pale-blue phlegm shot from her mouth like little bullets.
‘I am asking you vye!’ she screamed.
Nobody answered her question.
‘Children smell!’ she screamed. ‘They stink out the vurld! Vee do not vont these children around here!’
The bald heads in the audience all nodded vigorously.
‘Vun child a veek is no good to me!’ The Grand High Witch cried out. ‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘We will do better,’ murmured the audience. ‘We will do much better.’
‘Better is no good either!’ shrieked The Grand High Witch. ‘I demand maximum rrree-sults! So here are my orders! My orders are that every single child in this country shall be rrrubbed out, sqvashed, sqvirted, sqvittered and frrrittered before I come here again in vun year's time! Do I make myself clear?’
A great gasp went up from the audience. I saw the witches all looking at one another with deeply troubled expressions. And I heard one witch at the end of the front row saying aloud, ‘All of them! We can't possibly wipe out all of them!’
The Grand High Witch whipped round as though someone had stuck a skewer into her bottom. ‘Who said that?’ she snapped. ‘Who dares to argue vith me? It vos you, vos it not?’ She pointed a gloved finger as sharp as a needle at the witch who had spoken.
‘I didn't mean it, Your Grandness!’ the witch cried out. ‘I didn't mean to argue! I was just talking to myself!’
‘You dared to argue vith me!’ screamed The Grand High Witch.
‘I was just talking to myself!’ cried the wretched witch. ‘I swear it, Your Grandness!’ She began to shake with fear.
The Grand High Witch took a quick step forward, and when she spoke again, it was in a voice that made my blood run cold.
‘A stupid vitch who answers back
Must burn until her bones are black!’
she screamed.
‘No, no!’ begged the witch in the front row. The Grand High Witch went on,
‘A foolish vitch vithout a brain
Must sizzle in the fiery flame!’
‘Save me!’ cried the wretched witch in the front row. The Grand High Witch took no notice of her. She spoke again.
‘An idiotic vitch like you
Must rrroast upon the barbecue!’
‘Forgive me, O Your Grandness!’ cried the miserable culprit. ‘I didn't mean it!’ But The Grand High Witch continued with her terrible recital.
‘A vitch who dares to say I'm wrrrong
Vill not be vith us very long!’
A moment later, a stream of sparks that looked like tiny white-hot metal-filings came shooting out of The Grand High Witch's eyes and flew straight towards the one who had dared to speak. I saw the sparks striking against her and burrowing into her and she screamed a horrible howling scream and a puff of smoke rose up around her. A smell of burning meat filled the room.
Nobody moved. Like me, they were all watching the smoke, and when it had cleared away, the chair was empty. I caught a glimpse of something wispy-white, like a little cloud, fluttering upwards and disappearing out of the window.
A great sigh rose up from the audience.
