"Great job, girls," he said. "Hi5s all around! I think I need to go home and help Mom with supper though. Before I go, here's a joke for you."
"No!" Pallas said. "No jokes!"
"Why did Cinderella get kicked off the football team?"
Pallas rolled her eyes, but Naia said, "Why?"
"Because she kept running away from the ball!"
The girls groaned and Dad ran home.
"Let's practice our spirals!"
Naia headed downfield and Pallas wound up to throw a perfect pass, the ball zipping through the air as if shot from a cannon. But it didn't reach its target!
Instead it collided midair with some strange flying thing, knocking the strange flying thing out of the air with a ferkluffenish thud. Pallas and Naia ran to the crash site from opposite ends of the field. It was a beautiful woman wearing orange robes and a hat. Pallas extended her hand to help her up. The woman dusted herself off, using the sweepy end of a broom to wipe her feet.
"Two things," Naia said. "First, sorry for knocking you out of the sky. And second, are you a witch? Or a fairy???"
"Yes, I am a witch." The witch looked at the two sisters, seeming to notice them for the first time.
"I thought witches were green," said Pallas.
"Witches are whatever colour they want to be," said the witch. Who was green now.
"Wow!!"
"Most witches would put a devilish hex on you for knocking them down like that," said the witch.
“We're very sorry! We were practicing football. You can play with us if you want," Pallas said.
The witch was climbing onto her broom, with every intention of flying away, but she looked into the eyes of these two small, wicked children, and said, "Football is not really my jam, but you two remind me so much of myself when I was young, so, why not? I will play."
Football with a witch turned out to be the funnest thing ever, if not really in keeping with any of the rules. Magic spells and flying brooms and perfect spirals opening wormholes in reality. Pallas and Naia were laughing so hard they collapsed in heaps on the ground. The witch had never had so much fun in all her centuries.
"Thank you, little witchlings. That was amazing. But I need to go. And you know, I still owe you a hex."
"You're still going to hex us?" Naia asked.
The witch smiled. "No. Not ever. But I will still cast a hex for you, anything you want. As long as it's wicked and witchy."
Pallas said, "Ok, we just need to huddle for a minute." She took Naia a short distance and they whispered and conferred as if planning the final play of the Grey Cup.
"OK," said Pallas, after they returned. "Can you hex our Dad so he doesn't tell Dad jokes anymore?"
The witch thought about this. "I won't compel your dad to do anything against his will. I am a force for chaos and mischief but I still strongly believe in consent. But I think I know just the thing." She held her hands just so, fingers making claws, and spoke an ancient and forgotten tongue. Witchish, probably. Then she blew both sisters a kiss and climbed on her broom and flew away.
The girls looked at each other, shrugged, and went home for supper.
"That was fun!" said Naia.
The family gathered around the table, eating and talking about their days. Pallas kept sniffing, the crisp October air giving her a runny nose.
"Hey Pallas," Dad said, "What do you do with a runny nose?"
Pallas side-eyed Dad. "What?"
"Catch it before it gets away!" Dad's laugh was abruptly cut off, however, when his nose jumped off his face and started running like a bat out of hell. He shrieked and fell out of his chair. His nose was running all over the board game shelf, knocking over Lego and dice and making a terrible mess.
Dad slipped and tripped and stepped on Legos and D20s. His nose blew boogers at him! His own nose!
“I can't believe this is happening! I swear I will never tell another Dad joke as long as I live!"
With that his nose calmly walked back and reattached itself to his face. Dad fainted.
Naia said, "Enzgurgh smuild!"
Pallas said, "What does that mean?"
"It means 'hooray' in Witchish!”
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