Muffy and George next visited Augusta after school on Halloween. Cobwebs and cutout ghosts decorated the walls and doors in the Westboro apartment building. Muffy rang the doorbell, expecting the rabbit woman to leap out in a terrifying disguise.
To her disappointment, Augusta appeared in a white smock with a blue bib tied around her neck. "Hello, George, Muffy," she said sweetly. "I've been expecting you."
"What are you supposed to be?" asked Muffy.
"A dentist," was Augusta's reply.
"AAAAAARRRGH!" screamed George and Muffy in unison.
"You've come to see Petula, haven't you?" said Augusta, showing them in.
Muffy and George instantly headed toward the crib at the back of the living room, passing by the strange-looking jars of magical ingredients lining the shelves. They found the baby girl on her back, gazing up at a Mary Moo Cow mobile and trying to reach her toes.
"What a cutie," said George, grinning stupidly.
"She's such a little angel," said Augusta. "I can't help loving her. It's like a compulsion. I didn't think I had so much love inside of me."
"You sure got a lucky break, getting turned into a woman," Muffy remarked.
"What's wrong with boys?" George complained.
"You try pushing a baby out of your body like that," Muffy challenged him. "Can you do it? I don't think so."
"You two sound like a married couple already," joked Augusta as she gleefully tickled her daughter's belly.
"I think Petula's a lovely name," Muffy remarked.
"I like the name Petula," said Augusta. "I almost chose it for myself."
The kids admired Petula for a few more minutes, and then a knock came at the door. "More pilgrims here to see the miracle baby, I suppose," said Augusta as she went to answer.
The man in the doorway was slender and of average height, wore a pair of round glasses, and clutched a pen and notepad in one hand. His face featured the elongated nose and floppy ears of a poodle.
"My name's Heath Holcombe," he said in an excited, high-pitched tone of voice. "I'm a reporter with the Weekly Spyglass."
"Are you here about the baby?" asked Augusta wearily.
"Of course."
"Come in," said Augusta flatly.
Heath examined the jars on the walls with childlike wonder as he walked slowly through Augusta's living room. "Double, double, toil and trouble, indeed," he marveled. "You must be practicing some major Wicca in here."
"I find that term offensive," said Augusta sternly. "I'm a witch."
"Self-avowed witch," muttered Heath as he hastily jotted some notes on his pad.
"At least I was a witch at one time," Augusta clarified. "It's a long story."
"It's a big notepad," Heath told her.
George and Muffy left the pair and went to play with Petula, but Heath called out to them. "Kids, I'd like you to be a part of this interview."
"I've heard of the Weekly Spyglass," said Augusta to the reporter. "Some of the grocery stores carry it. Woman gives birth to three-headed bat boy…Zombie Hitler spotted in Belarus…World's fattest cat drags in alien corpse…that sort of pulp."
"That is a bit of an exaggeration, ma'am," said Heath politely. "The bat boy had only two heads, and the world's fattest cat was exposed as a raccoon in the following issue."
"No offense, Mr. Holcombe," said Augusta, "but I'd prefer to share my life story with a more respectable news source."
"Ma'am, I have eyewitness accounts from four people who claim they saw you become pregnant and give birth in the space of less than two minutes," said Heath firmly. "Is the New York Times going to touch that story? Not likely. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me."
Augusta made an expression of dismay, which in this case meant crossing her eyes by looking down at her nose.
"Let's start with the miracle birth," said Heath, pressing the tip of his pen to the notepad. "How did it happen? Were extraterrestrials involved? Did they genetically modify you somehow?"
"No," was Augusta's emotionless reply. "It was a magical unicorn horn."
Heath groaned internally. Another one of those wackos…
"Hey, Mr. Heath," George chimed in, "is the stuff in your newspaper true? I mean, did the government really cover up the existence of moon people?"
"That story was written by my predecessor," Heath answered. "I can't vouch for his theories. And there's no need to call me Mr. Heath. 'Heath' will do fine."
"Don't encourage him, George," Muffy scolded the moose boy. "He's clearly out of his melon."
"What makes you so sure he's crazy?" George retorted. "You and I have seen…"
"Shh!" Muffy blurted out.
George gaped at the monkey girl.
"We promised not to tell," she whispered at him.
"Tell what?" asked Heath, cocking his ears curiously.
"Uh, George saw an alien in his toilet once," said Muffy.
"Toilet?" said Heath, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. I always assumed they'd use air conditioners as a conduit for invasion. Tell me more, please."
Having obtained little useful information from Augusta, Muffy, George, and especially Petula, the dogged reporter made Buster's condominium his next destination.
"Yes?" said Bitzi, opening the door to receive him.
"My name's Heath Holcombe, ma'am," said the poodle man. "I'm a reporter for the Weekly Spyglass, and I'd like to have a word with your son."
Bitzi's angry glare nearly melted her glasses out of their rims.
"You're not coming anywhere near my son," she said threateningly. "You should be ashamed, writing that outrageous drivel for a living."
"I understand your objections, ma'am," said Heath defensively.
Buster and Fern hurried to the door and eyed the visitor. "Who is this guy?" Buster asked his mother.
"He's a blemish on the journalistic profession," Bitzi answered.
"I'm a reporter for the Weekly Spyglass," said Heath rapidly. "I want to talk to you about your contacts with space aliens."
"Don't come back," said Bitzi, slamming the door just as Buster uttered a dejected Mooomm…
Disappointed, Heath lowered his notebook and turned to leave. A growling and a tugging caught his attention. Looking down, he saw that Buster's dog, Amazon Puppy, was unlacing his shoe with her teeth.
He chuckled. "What about you?" he asked the little canine. "Seen any aliens?"
to be continued