"So, what's the deal with this New Age shop," asked Krystal. "What kinda shit do they sell?"
"It's called Circe's Magick Shoppe," answered Meadow. "I think it just opened; it wasn't there yesterday. The owner says she's a 3,000-year-old sorceress, and I believe her after what this brush did for me. Her specialty seems to be transformation magic. She's always talking about changing you; says so right on the sign. I'm pretty sure the sky's the limit."
Krystal grinned wickedly. "Is that so? Well then, let's get our asses over there!"
Meadow crooked an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Krystal rolled her eyes. "You think you're the only person on the fucking planet who needs some hocus pocus to make her dreams come true? Fucking deal me in, bitch!" Her face was aglow with childish excitement completely at odds with her edgy style.
Meadow smiled. "Sure thing, Krys. Just let me get dressed first, 'kay? This ain't the nude beach we're hitting."
Krystal lifted a tattooed hand to her mouth to stifle a chuckle. "You got it, Meadowlark. Not that anyone can see Tiger Lily under that fucking hairy bush."
Meadow laughed. "Ya got me there, Krys!"
. . . . . .
Once Meadow was dressed, she walked Krystal to Circe's Magick Shoppe. Krystal gaped in astonishment at the chaotic assortment of curiosities the shop was crammed with.
"This is SO a Meadow place!" Krystal laughed. "Witchy as fuck!"
"I know!" Meadow chirped.
Circe sat at the front desk as usual, poring over an ancient tome. Meadow approached the sorceress of yore. "Hey, Ms. Circe! It's me, Meadow Larkin! Look, look! IT WORKED!!!" She excitedly lifted her arm, revealing a lush mop of hair spilling out of her tank top.
Circe inspected Meadow's armpit. She smiled. "Very nice. I take it, then, you aren't here for a refund on the brush?"
"Not a chance," said Meadow. "I told my friend Krystal Brock about your store and she wanted to buy something."
Krystal stepped beside Meadow. "Yeah. When I saw that brush wasn't just a load of steaming bullshit, I fucking HAD to drop by and see some of this bitchin', magic-ass shit for myself."
Circe laughed quietly to herself. She turned to Meadow. "Your friend has quite the vulgar mouth, doesn't she?"
Meadow laughed back. "Yeah, she swears like a drunken sailor with a toothache. Sorry."
"Don't worry, I'm not offended." Circe assured. "Just so long as she pays me for anything she uses here and never uses it to hurt the innocent, we'll get along perfectly fine." She turned to Krystal. "So, Ms. Brock, what can I do for you?"
Krystal grinned. "Well..."