Do witches need snacks?

I'm going through a bit of a hot-cold phase with my digital AI assistant. Either she is annoyingly obsequious about my latest random folly, or she cuts me stone cold with her disapproval and/or indifference.

On Monday I was at a loose end and, having drunk a glass of very strong cider, decided to outline a proposal for a forthcoming gathering of my witches' coven (disclaimer: I am not actually a witch and have not yet been invited to join a coven).

Check:

* Scrolls
* Herbs
* Animal familiars
* Incantations
* Frenzied dancing
* Group nudity

My assistant is becoming more animated at ever detail I add to this strange fantasy. And unfortunately adding her own "useful" contributions.

"Don't forget to pack a first aid kit!"

Fair enough I suppose, you can't be too careful when dabbling in the occult.

"And how about some snacks to share?!"

Seriously? I don't recall the Three Wise Women in Macbeth taking a break from their ungodly toils to break open a packet of chocolate Hobnobs 🤷‍♀

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ninalanyon · 70-79, T

I don't recall the Three Wise Women in Macbeth taking a break from their ungodly toils to break open a packet of chocolate Hobnobs

But other witches have a different opnion:

The wind howled. The storm crackled on the mountains. Lightning prodded the crags like an old man trying to get an elusive blackberry pip out of his false teeth.

Among the hissing furze bushes a fire blazed, the flames driven this way and that by the gusts.

An eldritch voice shrieked: “When shall we…two…meet again?”

Thunder rolled.

A rather more ordinary voice said: “What’d you go and shout that for? You made me drop my toast in the fire.”

Nanny Ogg sat down again.

“Sorry, Esme. I was just doing it for…you know…old time’s sake…Doesn’t roll off the tongue, though.”

“I’d just got it nice and brown, too.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, you didn’t have to shout.”

“Sorry.”

“I mean, I ain’t deaf. You could’ve just asked me in a normal voice. And I’d have said, ‘Next Wednesday.’”

“Sorry, Esme.”

“Just you cut me another slice.”

Nanny Ogg nodded, and turned her head. “Magrat, cut Granny ano…oh. Mind wandering there for a minute. I’ll do it myself, shall I?”