Author's Note: Well, I was in a goofy mood again, so I decided to write another short story in what I am now calling my "Inanimate Objects Rebel!" series. Many people thought my other two were funny, and I hope this one lives up to the standards. Expect a story about the coach mentioned later in this story soon.
Disclaimer: Charmed is not mine, and if The Book was mine I'd treat it nicely.
Book of Shadows here, or BOS, or just simply The Book. You all know me, I'm in almost every episode, and if I'm not, I should be. The sisters would be no where without me. I mean they got their powers from me. See how useful I am?
Do I get any recognition for it? Nope, nada, zilch, zip. I'm just as abused as the scrying crystal and the grandfather clock, it's just not as obvious.
Like the one time that Paige organized me, you have no idea how painful it was getting all those sticky tabs ripped off! And they way they just flip through me! I'm an ancient book with very brittle pages, I require TLC! And you know whenever they can't find what they're looking for themselves so they ask upon Grams for a magical assist, have you any idea how cold that woman's fingers are?! She's dead for cryin out loud!
It's ridiculous how they toss around furniture and the like as if it's nothing, some of that furniture is my friends. Like the couch up here in the attic, I cringe whenever it gets hit with a fire ball, at least I can protect myself.
I suppose that is the life of living in the Halliwell Manor. Who signed me up for this gig? I'm going to talk to my lawyer….