Aunty Broomsticks.

It was definitely good flying weather. Aunty Broomsticks was still at that certain age, floating aloft whenever she wanted to, usurping NASA. Long ago and far away, she and her sorority were the beloved daughters of Ambrose the Amiable.

As a father and all round good guy, he was still regarded as the best of kindly, capable wizards. Unfortunately, his bride and their mother, had been known as old Ma Broomline. Age did not improve her or endear her to anyone, she just got nastier, pickled in her own toxic slime. But Old Ma Broomline had also endowed Aunty Broomline and her scary sisters with her gift of second sight, and more magic potential than those modern upstarts could poke a stick at. Or their brooms.

A witch has to do what a witch has to do, it is a vocation. Aunty Broomsticks spliced spells, cooked up potions for charming, uniting lovers with all her conjuring, creating from her personal memory of witching. She was quite popular in her village of Pumpkin Patch. If anyone was slightly lovelorn for a guy, good old Aunty Broomsticks was a local source of enchantments and philters of attraction. Marriages and reproduction were blooming way over there in that mystical small town of grand old Pumpkin Patch, somewhere misty far west of Houston, let alone Salem.

This Halloween special day in particular, Aunty Broomsticks was composing an ode to this annual celebration of secrecy. All for the good, she was a white magic kind of gal, not like old Ma Broomline. The poet in her heart wanted to create a 400 page narrative in verse, to be published in blue cover hardback by Oxford University Press. Maybe somewhen she would be a writer's club success star.

Aunty Broomsticks was applying herself, she never ran short of ideas, very good imagination, based on real world characters. Her ode was progressing thus:

"What was a Spider Mother?

She was a mama like no other,

She totally had an evil eye,

Gone to the website in the sky....."

This epic tale of an antihero was taking shape, had to rhyme, naturally. It had emanated from a classic Halloween Mother's Day birthday, when Aunty Broomsticks had sourced a John Sands, schmaltz rose-colored glassy-eyed gaze at motherhood of her youth. It had contained a turgid many-paged tribute to some mythical mothers, who may have existed somewhere for women of that certain age. It had floral illustrations and fancy writing, page after page. The card read, "Mothers are supportive and kind, always encouraging their children with sweet words and tender hugs, caresses and kisses......"

Yes, indeed, cackles from Aunty Broomsticks and her witchy sisters had emerged from their girlish giggles. Hilarious. Old Ma Broomline was in their brains, a terrifying figure, far worse than any fairyland wicked witch. Aunty Broomsticks smiled and scribbled her literature. Maybe she could win the Halloween Nobel Prize for forbearance.

Anyway, it was Halloween again. Yes, good flying weather for her, one of those legendary Wiccan chicks. She usually and skillfully cooked up her home recipes for matchmaking, after she had polished her favorite broom.

Aunty Broomsticks was perpetually hoping to spend in the night ahead with her suitor, a lively golden oldie, Joyous Johnster. He flew in sometimes on his own transport, his magic flying carpet. He was such a talented guy, he could still really turn her on, making all the lassies feel good in bed. That is why Aunty Broomsticks had such a happy brain, full of happiness zen. The pair were surrounded by magic in all those tender moments.

Joyous Johnster had not exactly faded into a shadow, as Aunty Broomsticks was keeping her cellulite quite discreet. It was really no secret, life went on as normal over there in the enchanting village of Pumpkin Patch.

A rattle on her window distracted Aunty Broomsticks from her special occasion versifying. "Aunty Broomsticks, Aunty Broomsticks! You've got to save us. You've the only one who can!" She peeped through her shutters, gazing in wonderment at terrified little trick or treaters, all costumed up and ready, with no place particular to be.

"What is wrong now, dear little spooks or wizards?' Aunty Broomsticks asked her visitors.

"It is dreadful, scary," they all said at once. "Please, Aunty Broomsticks, take pity on poor little children. We need your magic fix."

"I shall do my best," she replied, "What exactly is your problem?"

"There are spiders everywhere. Creepy. They look exactly like your old bat of a mother," one lassie told her.

"Bit cheeky," Aunty Broomsticks said, "Don't knock the broomline. Looks like we are all in this together," she commented, as she peered around the street in Pumpkin Patch. She gaped, horrified, saying, "Oh no! Arachnophobia!"

True, grey ghostly spiders were infesting the whole little settlement, wherever witches and wizards normally went about nights. A shriek of her Old Ma Broomline snickered, threatened.

"Short stuff, bloody other peoples' kids. Run away right now, you're all trespassing. Trick or treats are for spiders this year!"

"Oh, woe," Aunty Broomsticks moaned, "This is a nightmare!"

A green evil eye shone in front of the full moon, covering, spreading sticky, entangling webs over this humble town. Bats flew, black cats yowled, dogs yapped, clouds sped away. This was beyond catastrophic. Spider Mama and all the dead grandmas had been resurrected by Darkforce the Deplorable.

Privately, in her most positive imagination, Aunty Broomsticks regarded Darkforce as quirkily a bit of an amateur, but he was persisting in his distractions from her love philters and potions. Still, she was inventive too against Darkforce the Deplorable.

She had her own hocus pocus, as she concentrated. Sparks flew from her digits, a flash! Whoosh, in through the window flew her lover. There appeared Joyous Johnster, a friend in need. He normally had his obligations, so did she, but still, they had a thing going on.

They also both had their own qualifications in magic in their own right. Aunty Broomsticks explained the situation, as great hairy-legend spiders began encroaching, clambering down on the sticky webs, swiping all the lollies from the wannabe wizards and witches.

"They is good training, kids. Follow my lead!" Aunty Broomstics yelled, as she and Joyous Johnster lifted aloft. The innocent kids all waved, it was great flying weather after all.

"Halloween brings us together again, "Joyous Johnster whispered to her, as Aunty Broomsticks blew in his ear, sensually. He would follow her anywhere. Thus began the magic battle of the ages, the stuff epic tales are sung of, and followed by the villagers, gathered around their flickering fireplaces, and arcane candles.

Darkforce the Deplorable had constructed a devious plot, as the great evil eye in the sky turned even greener and nastier. All these spider mamas had come back. It was a saga all in their broomsticks, heritage in their genomes, down through all their generations.

The Pumpkin Patch Police force stood by, grounded. Their copper chopper was covered in webs, with ugly spiders on the console, appearing more evil in their windscreen.

"Take heart, fear not! I have a plan. Come on, Joyous, we're the good guys here."

"Absolutely," he laughed, "It's now or never! " Aunty Broomsticks launched into singing Abba songs!

"Oh no!" the voice of Darkforce the Deplorable groaned loudly. "Not her singing!"

For once, everyone in Pumpkin Patch welcomed Aunty Broomsticks' tuneless rendition of "Mama Mia!.She even sang it in Latin, really drove off the rapidly shriveling spiders. Even worse, the innocent kids joined in, the whole town had flunked choir practice too. Three minutes of "I'll put a spell on you", and this combat was over.

It was a classic confrontation of dark magic, defeated by the good witch, Aunty Broomsticks. The singalong concluded with a couple more tone-deaf tunes. The spider mamas could not hack it, all too much for the dead grandmas. They vanished, as the evil eyes in the sky collapsed into a large pond of sickly sweet green jelly, which Pumpkin Patch feasted on for Halloween supper.

Aunty Broomsticks and Joyous Johnster did some demonstration flights. It was their joyride of freedom, strutting their talents to NASA quite amazingly. Such legendary Wiccan trips are quite normal in good flying weather on Halloween. Never knock your broomline. Enjoy the trip, it is all in the process......