"You will follow me to the bathroom at once," Susan Cunningham ordered. Lacy, confident her mom would just end up humiliating herself, nodded and followed. The other nude, hirsute girls stampeded after them, eager to take in the comedy.
Susan shut the door behind her and locked it. "Perfect. Let's begin." She unzipped her purse and removed a pair of silver scissors studded with amethysts. For a second, Lacy was sure it was faintly glowing.
Susan grabbed a lock of her daughter's luxuriant armpit hair in her fingers and snipped at it. Lacy prepared to laugh as the scissor comically bounced off the hairs... but they didn't. The damned blades sliced clean through the enchanted body hair, severing it. The other five girls gasped in fright. An odd feeling washed over Lacy, almost as if the magic were departing from the stubble of the shorn hair.
"What the hell?!" choked Lacy.
"The fuck did you do to her?!" Monique screamed.
Susan smirked. "I'm going to share a secret with you. Lacy, you mother's a witch."
Lacy's eyes widened. "A... what?"
"A witch," Susan Cunningham repeated. "Did you honestly think your father got elected because he was just that charismatic? Because his policies we just so appealing? Because he just had so many friends in high places? No. I placed hypnotic charms on every campaign add he put out. The voters were literally bewitched into voting him in."
"Holy shit!" gasped Lacy.
Susan snipped another lock of armpit hair. "I could sense the magic in that hair the second I saw it. I witch has extra senses, you know. Hell, I felt you doing SOMETHING magical from all the way across the country. That's why I talked your father into cutting his meeting with donors short and come back here days early. I knew I had to put a stop to whatever it was your were doing." She kept relentlessly snipping hair as she talked. "This has Circe's handiwork all over it, I think. Is that ancient bitch back in town? Answer me, Lacy, and truthfully."
Lacy gulped. "I... I'm not sure. The magic came from a sorceress who runs a shop that Blair's sister and her friends patronize, but that's all I know for sure, Mom."
Still snipping, Susan Cunningham turned her head to face Blair. "Well, Blair Belville, what do YOU know?"
Blair found her voice. "I'm not telling you a fucking thing, you shitty-ass cunt! And you'd better leave Lacy the fuck alone... now!" Her mane bristled wildly as she shouted.
Susan just laughed a the hirsute redhead. "Or what? I'm the witch here, Miss Belville, not you. Just for that pathetic display of insolence, I'm shaving you next, maybe the lot of you." She waved her free hand, rooting the cheer squad to the spot so they couldn't escape her and her magic scissors. She gave Blair a good, hard slap across the face to fully impress upon her who had all the power here before returning to her dreadful work.
Susan snipped that last lock of magic armpit hair as Lacy fought back tears. The wicked witch set down the scissors and picked up a can of shaving cream and a razor. She lathered up Lacy's magicless stubble and mercilessly ran the razor over the fragile blonde whiskers. "Done," she said after a few more razorstrokes.
Lacy tearfully ran her fingers over her smooth, bald armpits. Her fingertips knew they should be met by the soothing touch of rivers of soft fleecy gold hair fit for the armpits of a princess, but instead the found only barren skin. It was too much for Lacy, and tears streamed down her face.
Susan rolled her eyes. "You're pitiful. Sometimes I find it hard to believe you come from a 2,000-year-old lineage of witches and warlocks. I blame your father's blood myself. I never should have married a man without magic; it's made you weak. Weak and deviant. I'd hoped I could teach you witchcraft one day, but I doubt you have the spirit. Oh well, back to work."