The Annual Witches Camping Trip

It was time again for the annual witches camping trip and it was Hattie’s turn to cook for everyone before they took their annual ride across the moon to start off Halloween. Fern and Hilda were already a little tipsy from too much witches’ brew, but they were always fun to watch as they sang and danced by the campfire.

“Can I give you hand, Hattie?” Medusa looked into the bubbling cauldron and saw only boiling water. She was getting hungry. “Would you like me to cut up the pumpkin?”

Hattie was busy combining brown sugar and caster sugar together in the mortar and didn’t hear Medusa. It didn’t help that Hattie was nearly a thousand years old and deaf in one ear. No one brought it up anymore; especially after the little pastry incident. Three years ago, Hattie was asked to bring the 500g of shortcrust pastry for the pie, but instead she brought a very sweet little girl. Patsy was her name, and she was as delicious as the pie would have been, but if word got out that witches still ate children, well, you can imagine the chaos that would cause.

“Oh, Medusa, dear! I didn’t see you standing there,” Hattie said as she turned around to grab the softened butter. “Would you be a dear and help me?”

“I would love to, Hattie.”

“Will you please gut the pumpkin for me?”

As Medusa reached into the large pumpkin, she chuckled at how squishy the innards were. They reminded her of the cats she used to kill as a child.

“Here you are, Hattie.” Medusa set the cleaned-out pumpkin next to the mortar that was now filled with a sugar, brown sugar, and butter cream. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Medusa’s stomach growled.

“Not right now dear, thank you.”

Medusa sighed and returned to the campfire where Fern and Hilda were now declaring their undying love for each other while Vest and Aenwyn cackled their heads off. After a few minutes, Medusa’s stomach was demanding food — any food, and she started thinking what inebriated witch tasted like. She decided it would be better to return to the camp kitchen to see if she could hurry Hattie along.

When she returned to Hattie’s side, the large pumpkin was now filled with her butter cream and, judging from the shells scattered on the ground, six eggs. Hattie was struggling with the wooden spoon as it kept getting stuck in the side of the softening pumpkin.

“I can stir that for you, dear,” Medusa said, reaching for the spoon.

“Oh, thank you. My arm is about ready to fall off.”

Hattie threw in a dash of salt, nutmeg, ginger, and cinnamon while Medusa stirred. Medusa looked at the mix and immediately thought of of the gingerbread cookies she used to cook in the old country, but she could not believe that Hattie would serve cookies for dinner at the annual camping trip. At least she hoped she wouldn’t.

All purpose flour flew everywhere as Hattie picked up the bag and poured it into the pumpkin. Medusa tried to keep her cool as she tried to wipe the flour off her black dress.

Hattie stood by the bubbling cauldron and looked at the night sky. “It’s almost time.”

Medusa looked up and sighed. She was hungry. A quick glance over to the campfire also suggested she was the only one still sober and so it was up to her to kick-off Halloween.

“I’ll grab my broom,” Medusa said.

“I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get back,” Hattie said as she threw the filled pumpkin into the cauldron.

Medusa took to flight and stopped at the first drive-thru before flying across the moon. She promised herself that next year, she would go to Drac’s party in the islands rather than hanging out with the girls. At least Igor knows how to cook.

This was written for the Halloween Recipe Challenge hosted by A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip.  The challenge requires a list of ingredients be included in a creative work (in bold).



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