Hey everyone! This was originally meant to be Chapter 10 of my other story, "53 Things to Do When You're Bored in Cackle's", but the idea just developed and I decided to put it as it's own story. Thanks in advance for reading and a review would be much appreciated! ^_^ Also, I am setting up the basis for the actual story for this chapter, and I would really appreciate you coming back for Chapter 2, where the story will really take off. Thanks again! ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own the Worst Witch. The characters belong to the amazing Jill Murphy, and any additional characters belong to the writers/producers of the TV adaptation of the Worst Witch.

Hex Bomb:

One may often wonder why a Witch like Amelia Cackle is Headmistress; while she is genial and powerful, witches like Constance Hardbroom may seem more appropriate for the position. Staunch traditionalist, staunch disciplinarian, economic, and powerful beyond words. It's often been questioned by visitors to Cackle's Academy, how on earth Constance Hardbroom was never made headmistress. Despite the fact that "Hardbroom's Academy" didn't have the same ring to it, there were other reasons why the fates placed Amelia as headmistress.

Constance Hardbroom was a woman who most certainly didn't like change. She hated change to such an extent that when they decided to relocate and improve Cackle's Academy, she threatened to retire! She was also a woman who would fight to get her own way, and the above example was certainly an ample form of blackmail, and she certainly got what she wanted!

Amelia Cackle, on the other hand, was a woman that was willing to embrace change, while keeping with tradition. Most Witches wouldn't be caught dead playing basketball, but for the sake of the girls, and their modern outlook on life, she allowed a basketball game with Heversham High so that the girls could alleviate their boredom for a short spell of time. It was agreed with Miss Pike, that if Cackle's girls won, that there would be a return trip. (Although, Amelia was so sure that Cackle's girls would lose, that she passed the motion of a return trip).

Amelia wasn't often selfish, but when it came to her cream cakes, the bitch in her would emerge. Cackle's could hardly arrive at Heversham High on broomsticks! They were already deemed strange from their Medieval "Science lab", bats flying through the corridors, Miss Hardbroom's infatuation with Miss Pike, Miss Bat and her cheerleaders and basketball nets made from a sanded down pieces of cardboard and a basket - yes, Frank Blossom was a man who took instructions quite literally!

So Amelia had a decision to make - crush the girls' spirits and cancel the basketball match, or the school could purchase a bus to allow them to go to Heversham High, of course, resulting in a cut to discretionary expenditure in the school's budget, meaning Miss Cackle would have to cut back on the cream cakes and other various confectionaries for a whole month. (She already failed in trying to slip confectionary purchases under the necessary expenditure). After much self-debate, she decided it would be best that the bus be purchased for the welfare of the girls. And besides, if she could somehow drive a bus through the forest and down to Cosie's Café, she could bring much more cakes home with her!

The next week, the bus was purchased. A second-hand, "hunk of junk" as the girls liked to call it. It was a bus of an undistinguishable colour; it was rust-encrusted, giving it a sandy effect, scratched giving it silver streaks throughout, generally dirty and the original paint job seemed to be white, though that was debatable. Fenella and Griselda kindly offered to paint it, but considering they were going through their graffiti phase, Miss Cackle felt that the bus was safest left as it is.

The girls were getting excited about their trip away. Any fun they'd have in school couldn't compare to the fun and banter they would have in the bus. And on the night before their trip away, tragedy struck.

While Frank, the designated bus driver was on maternity leave after the infamous geranium incident (don't ask!), the post of bus driver was thrust upon Miss Drill, the only remaining staff member who could drive. As we all know, bad things come in threes, and the second bad thing was Miss Drill spraining her ankle, so that she was unable to drive. For once, you may think "how could it get any worse?", and that the chain of bad things had broken. You were wrong. The third bad thing to happen was the worst of all. And this was:


"How will we break it to the girls?" Amelia sighed, putting her face in her hands.

"I warned you Amelia, that nothing good could come of this," Constance grinned, reluctantly and awkwardly taking a bite of an apple. The woman was even graceful when eating, and seemed almost mortified at having to do so.

"Surely there's another way," Davina mused, taking a bite of a pink rose that was central to the flower arrangement.

"No, Davina," Constance began, "I think an extra study period would be much more beneficial to the girls," she beamed, "rather than some sweaty sport that can only cause injury, provide incentive for cheating and is of no beneficial use anyway," she said with some disdain.

"Well if we could find another driver," Amelia stated, "we'd be able to go".

"But who, Miss Cackle?" Imogen sighed.

"Well, I was thinking that I could take up the post."

Davina nearly choked on her rose as Imogen smirked to herself, Constance even had a restrained smile. She hid it with her cup of coffee.

"Is something funny, ladies?" Amelia asked, genuinely naïve.

"Well, Miss Cackle," Davina giggled, "you've only ever flown a broomstick. I can't imagine you driving a bus!" she laughed out loud this time.

"It can't be that hard," she said softly, "I can already fly a broomstick after all. You tap it off she goes? Imogen?"

"Well if you insist, headmistress, I can try and teach you."

"Yes, Imogen! That would be wonderful!"


That awkward moment when Amelia Cackle is learning how to drive. The whole escapade gave disastrous a new meaning. She was utterly hopeless. Imogen knew she was in for it - thinking the gear stick would steer the bus like a joystick was clearly a bad start.

Imogen was borderline smashing her face repeatedly against the dashboard.

"No, try again, headmistress," she sighed.

"So these are the….the pedals," she guessed, Imogen's feigned smile signalled a yes, "and they drive the car?"

"Yes, Miss Cackle," she replied.

"So what's all this palaver with finding a driver if the pedals will drive the bus for us?" she asked.

"No, Miss Cackle, you drive the car. You see, you hold down the accelerator with your right foot, and you gently release the clutch at the same time. Just give it a try in neutral."

"Alright, Imogen, I'll have a go," Amelia stated. She gently pressed the accelerator, revving up the engine, as she released her grip on the wheel.

"What are you doing, Amelia?" Imogen enquired, totally mystified by the headmistress's strange new methods of driving.

"You told me to release the clutch, didn't you? I let go of the wheel. Did I do it too slowly?"

"No, Miss Cackle," Imogen began, turning red, "the clutch is the pedal to the far left," she began, pointing it out to the clueless woman, "you gently release it with your left foot, and gently press down the accelerator at the same time, with your right foot. It takes practice so give it a go in neutral," she explained.

Amelia did just that and it revved a little high. Imogen was relieved that the woman was finally starting to get it - they were only at it for three and a half hours!

"Just press a little more gently on the accelerator, Amelia," Imogen explained. She did so and it seemed okay. Imogen finally smiled, taking a sigh of relief as she slumped back into the tattered seat. Thank Christ! thought the P.E. teacher as she wiped a little sweat from her upper left temple. She sat up straight, putting on her seatbelt.

"Now try it in first gear, Amelia," she said. Before Amelia even had to ask, "you hold down the clutch and pull the gear stick to the left and then up."

"Ah yes, I remember now," she said, doing it at once. It seemed as if she was catching on.

She managed to successfully put the bus into first gear and slowly tried to take off. The bus took off alright! Like Roadrunner to be more precise, down the courtyard. She slammed the break upon hearing an inhumane scream. She and Imogen ran from the bus and found a crying Davina balling her eyes out on the ground.

"Davina, dear, are you alright?" Amelia asked, her eyes and voice filled with concern, thinking the Chanting Mistress had been injured.

"It's dead! It's dead! Oh, Sarah! I'm so sorry!" she cried. Imogen and Amelia quickly looked under the wheel, expecting to see some sort of animal, instead, seeing the stem of a crushed Daffodil. They sighed deeply, exchanging a sheepish glance before once again entering the castle.


The excessively tall team of Heversham High were training, when Miss Pike entered. The girls all stopped playing at once and watched their rigid, straight-backed coach walk over to the sideline. Everyone continued to stare, in utter awe. Dolorous, the captain, jogged over to her coach, and was followed by the rest of the team. They seemed tentative around her, as if something was wrong.

"Wel….welcome back, Miss Pike," Dolorous uttered nervously, not wanting to ruffle her feathers.

"Thank you, Dolorous," she replied stiffly, eying up the team, "I'm glad too hear that you have regained your respectable winning streak," she told them monotonously, in that strangely perverse tone she was noted for, that intimidated everyone around her.

"Thank….thank you, Miss Pike," Dolorous replied, "we've been training extra-hard to make sure that we beat those Cackle cheats this time," she smiled shyly.

Miss Pike smiled wryly, staring enigmatically into space, "I wouldn't worry about your winning streak, girls. I don't think the Cackle's girls will be able to play today. Not by the time I've finished with them," she grinned.

"What do you mean?" asked Dolorous, thinking she'd some new game strategy for them.

Without moving a muscle, or even blinking, her grin seemed to grow, "let's just say that I've made reservations so that Cackle's won't be able to…arrive," she said, seeming almost psychotic. The team knew that it may be time to back off, before she made them run ten laps of the court for laziness.

"Do you want us to keep practicing, Miss?" Dolorous asked.

No answer, the enigma of Miss Pike was in her own world. Dolorous nodded at the rest of the team, who resumed practicing their drills.

Miss Pike certainly had very interesting plans in store as a revenge for their trashing from Cackle's in the former match. It would certainly be one day that Cackle's students and teachers wouldn't forget for a very long time to come, if ever.