In the early days of Paganistan, a certain witch named Sandra was walking down Summit Avenue one evening.
(If ever you've wondered why Paganistan is in Paganistan, and not, say, somewhere else, I can pretty much tell you in one word: Llewellyn. Carl and Sandra Weschke ran Llewellyn Publishing at the time, and lo! the pagan world in-gathered around them.)
So there she was, dressed to the nines, on her way home from dinner out with some friends.
Just then, a couple of purse-snatchers darted by, deftly nabbing her shoulder-bag as they went past.
Knowing that she wouldn't be able to run very fast or very far in her heels, she called out to a couple of football players from the local college, who just happened to be nearby:
Fifty bucks if you take 'em down!
They did, right there on the pavement. Ouch.
Now, that's what I call witching.
