WITCHES travel across the mortal and spiritual planes to commune with Magnesium of The Tower. They climb a seemingly endless flight of spiraling stairs to arrive at the arched doorway of 221B Weird Wilds Street, the home of the renowned Witch Detective Agency. A WITCH need not knock, for the friendly spirits that follow the Head Detective always tell her when a mystery is afoot. 

Magnesium greets every WITCH, mortal or otherwise, with a warmth that comforts a soul seeking something lost. She dawns an apron patterned with moths, pearly skulls, and baby turtles while motioning towards a chair at her dark, marbled countertop. This is how every case begins–a meal and a mystery. 

Magnesium sits across from a WITCH with jeweled antlers, flowing silver hair, and a leather wrap necklace. Pots clatter, oil bubbles, and water splatters while the pair discuss the doings and undoings of life. As the cacophony of preparation subsides, Magnesium stands and places a handful of precisely cut potatoes into a wok filled with canola oil. 

“Now, I believe it’s time we discussed your matter of grave importance…”  

The smell of fried potatoes wafted through the Detective Agency as Magnesium removed the first batch of fries. Placing them in a bowl lined with paper towels, she generously salted them before transferring them to cool on a wire rack. 

“Oh, of course. I am in search of a WITCH whose magic spawns…” 

“Wait! Did you hear that?”

Magnesium’s eyes scanned left and right, up and down, in search of the source of the noise. 

“Hear what? Are you okay, Magnesium?” 

“That! It’s like a soft, faint purring noise…”

Consumed by the mystery at hand, Magnesium began searching through the Detective Agency. She moved meticulously from room to room–peering between stacks of case files, climbing underneath desks, and opening every cupboard imaginable. 

While searching her study, Magnesium heard a high-pitched squeal followed by a joyous giggle. She dashed back to the kitchen to find a CAT with not one, not two, but four fries stuffed in its mouth. 

“Oh my god, what a darling floof! How could you not tell me about your familiar?!” 

Magnesium stood in shock. The only remnants of the first batch of fries were flecks of salt and scattered crumbs. This fiendish carb CAT had inhaled every last fry and was sitting on the counter licking its paws. 

“I…this…is not my familiar. This must be a CAT born from a ritual of the chaos circle to eat all my fries like that!” 

“PURRRRRRR” 

The CAT sat triumphantly on the counter, staring at the wok filled with oil. 

“Well you know what they say…sometimes the CAT chooses the WITCH. And I think your newfound familiar wants more fries!”