It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. It was in fact quite crap. It wasn’t at all dramatic. The moon wasn’t even showing; hidden by some clouds. Honestly, the weather just didn’t know how to respond to these things any more. This was no night to be afraid of. People weren’t barricading themselves in their cellars. Well, except for Mr Miller who still had flashbacks from the war. More importantly though, he didn’t want his wife to disturb his boozing.
‘It shall have to do,’ said Anitta, ‘But this is still a full moon regardless of the bloody clouds!’ she pointed at the sky accusingly. A tremendous roll of thunder completely failed to deliver reply. ‘Sod you then,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘Eye of newt,’ she said, dropping a scrabble tile into a small pot. She’d had to spell it “niwt”, ‘lucky rabbits foot,’ a small lump of chocolate, which until it melted, had been the last remains of a chocolate easter bunny, ‘testicle of toad,’ she wasn’t sure what a testicle was so she just threw in the whole toad. It stared sadly at her from the bottom of the pot. Then it ate the chocolate.

um... what?