Harvey Potluck and the Wish Bitch

Harvey's third year at Hogwash Military Academy and Magic Technical School was off to a most depressing beginning indeed. First, the mustache hadn't grown in like he had hoped at all. Then, that unfortunate incident where he was caught in an indecent act with his broomstick, which earned him the vulgar nickname "Stickfucker" to be endured all year long. Then he found out Phenom Retarded, the devious bastard who had helped kill his parents, was released on shock probation by an old insane magic judge. What a shitty year.

When things seemed they could get no worse, an ominous expression meaning they of course did get worse, he was called to Professor Opatricka Robinson's office. The Asst. Principal of Hogwash had always been very cool to him, but not cool like the guys it's okay to smoke pot around. Cool in the British sense—bitchy.

"Ah," she said, as Harvey entered the door. "There you are, Potluck. I scarcely recognized you, you've grown so tall this year. And that ridiculous mustache."

"It's coming in," he insisted. "I just shaved it. So lay off."

"My, my, Mr. Potluck," she said, slamming a book shut and putting it on her desk. "You've developed quite the rebellious streak, haven't you, young man?" Harvey said nothing. "Would you like that mustache to come in fuller, perhaps?"

He didn't answer. She raised her eyebrows and stiffened her upper lip, demanding him to speak.

"I guess so," he said. And then—poof! In the magic sense. Harvey's mustache blossomed into full bushiness. He looked not unlike Freddie Prinz.

"My word, that's more like it!" exclaimed Professor Opatricka with a smile. "That's a handsome mustache indeed."

"Shit peckers, Professor Opatricka!" replied Harvey. "However did my mustache grow in so fast? Magic?"

"Duh. But not just any kind of magic, Harvey—the wishing kind. The same kind millions of children and naïve adults make every time they blow out candles, see a shooting star, or pluck out the eyelashes of their victims."

"Wow!" said Harvey, running his fingers through his luxurious new 'stache. "But wishes—do they really come true?"

"Don't sound so gay when you say that, Harvey!" said Professor Opatricka. "Of course wishes come true! Especially when you're a Wish Bitch."

"A Wish Bitch!" Harvey needlessly repeated. He had heard of such things before, Wish Bitches. They were a small but powerful collective of magic beings who descended from the Druids, and listened to the Doobie Brothers. Like many things at Hogwash, they were rumored to exist, but conveniently not seen until they became major plot machinations. But Wish Bitches were illegal, for some reason—why would Professor Opatricka risk her secret with him?

"Professor Opatricka," began Harvey, "I want you to know, I won't tell anyone you're a Wish Bitch."

"Damn right you won't, stickfucker," she said. She hoisted her stocking leg up on her desk and pulled her skirt back to reveal her thigh. "It's hard work being a Wish Bitch, kid. Always knocking yourself out casting wishes that only work for other people. Well, it's about time one of my wishes came true."

What followed probably shouldn't be described in this book, but I'm writing it up anyway. Maybe I'll publish it in a magazine.

For more of this great story, buy V.D. Whistling's
Harvey Potluck and the Wish Bitch

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