From the three jars issued poor pitiful croaks. The failed attempts at intelligible speech from three former burglars that had entered the wrong place, namely the house of a witch. They were now reduced to frogs, awaiting an uncertain fate. The witch had transformed them and was planning to sell two of the three former young men to other witches. Except she didn't tell them which ones would get sold. She did not specify so each was left to wonder which two were concerned. She told them that she'd make sure they would go to good homes but for Damon, Chris and John, this wasn't that much reassuring. After all, what counted as being a good home for pet frog in her eyes? For now, they were in jars and frankly, it felt too tight and rather unpleasant. They could hear the witch talking in the other rooms and could see some lights but could not see much.
When she returned, the witch looked quite happy. And she felt as such indeed. She had sent her message through the fire in her chimney and her crystal ball. She had received some enthusiastic answer in record time. But it was quite logical. Any witch would be happy to have as a pet a frog who was a transformed delinquent guilty of robbing a witch. This sort of vengeance was just too delicious! These witches would be there soon so she had the time to fix herself a nice cup of coffee.
"You found new owners," she said joyfully in a wide toothless grin. "They'll be there shortly. Their trip by broomsticks should not take too long."
The three frogs croaked loudly. She couldn’t understand them of course, but she could guess their thoughts quite easily. She pointed to John and Damon.
"You two will go. My friends will decide whom they want."
She then peered at Chris.
"As for you, you'll stay with me, as my new pet."
The three burglars looked at each other, wondering who would get the better part of the deal. Or the worst. As thew witch made her cup of coffee, they could only wallow in their misery. Outside the rain had started to fall. Then a knock sounded across the house, from the door.
"Ha! It must be them," the witch said, going to the door to open it.
The two witches entered the house, their hats and cloaks dripping wet and their broomsticks in hand. One, a heavyset woman, even took out a long pipe from the folds of her dress and lit it. Both peered at the frogs in their jars.