"Such a nasty woman."
- Donald Trump
The nasty women gather on the heath just after midnight. It is Nasty Women's Sabbath, Election Eve, and they must make haste.
Their sturdy he-goats and their broomsticks are parked with the valet. Beyond the circle, their familiar owls and toads and pussycats strut, boasting of being grabbed or not grabbed.
A will-o'-the-wisp zigzags back and forth over the assemblage (it is bad with directions, like a nasty woman).
They have much to do, and the hour is late.
They must sabotage the career of an upwardly mobile young general named Macbeth.
They must lure an old wizard into a cave and lock him there so that Camelot may fall.
They must finish Ron and Harry's homework for them (again).