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A REAL WITCH gets the same pleasure from squelching a child as you get from eating a plateful of strawberries and cream.
She reckons on doing away with one child a week. Anything less than that and she becomes grumpy.
One child a week is fifty-two a year,
Squish them and squiggle them and make them
That is the motto of all witches.
Very carefully a victim is chosen. Then the witch stalks the wretched child like a hunter stalking a little bird in the forest. She treads softly. She moves quietly. She gets closer and closer. Then, at last, when everything is ready... phwisst!... and she swoops! Sparks fly. Flames leap. Oil boils. Rats howl. Skin shrivels. And the child disappears.
~ from The Witches,
written by Roald Dahl