"Ere, that the ol' Bill? Yeah? It's about my neighbour; he's been 'anging around the fire hydrant again chanting strange incantations. Up to no good if you ask me! What was he chanting? It sounded like he was saying 'I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky; I should be so lucky in love...' I mean it's your classic common-or-garden love spell, innit? What did ya say? No, no; he's the only one in the neighbourhood I suspect of practisin' the old dark arts. Well, there was Norman at 58 last year, but I turned him into a frog so that's sorted really."
"Sorry to interrupt, but for such a case you need to speak to my colleague. This is the office of the Witchfinder General you see. Let me put you through to the Witchfinder Specific."
"Kids today with their Monads and their scryin' stones and their angelic troilism. When I were a lad all you needed were some yarrow stalks and maybe a nice pebble."
