Madame Majique's skin begins to turn even paler than it already was-creeping towards that dreaded snowball white hue our heroes know to be the end of rational thought. Her laughter grows louder, and as it does, the white creeps down her neck moving across her figure as the pie slowly falls from her face.
As the whiteness moves down her body, it changes, her once humble breasts (for a witch) growing to outlandish proportions. As the whiteness moves further downwards, her breasts jiggle a little, and her waist scrunches in. A few seconds later, an inflating sound, much like a balloon being blown up, is heard as her butt balloons outwards. Madame Majique's thighs thicken, leaving her with a cartoonish figure-a caricature of a woman.
Despite her transformation, the cherry of the pie still rests atop Majique's nose. As Connie takes a look at it, she sees it suddenly grow, morphing into a small red ball and taking the place of the witch's nose.
She looks to be about half a clown now, and as much as I want to run, I am rooted in the spot-refusing to give up on my last hope.
But, I should give up. After all, as the pinkness spreads from her hair's roots, twisting her once-straight black hair into a mess of ringlets, I know that the woman Majique once was is no more. I, Princess Sara, am naught but a clown, and soon I will be the Princess of the Clown Kingdom. I sigh. Has my quest been in vain?
My sadness is juxtaposed against the increasingly clown-like witch. Her robes metamorphse into a neon green jester-suit, skin tight against her figure, with bright pink dots. White four-fingered gloves and bell-tipped pink shoes adorn the new clown's hands and feet, and pink ruffles sit at her neck, wrists, and ankles.
I hear the clown giggle. Majique is gone. I turn to my friends, ready to give the order to run! But then, I hear...