The dark man scratched his head...

Why were the ''intentions'' not manifesting, as per usual ?
Why was the rhythmic smoke not spiraling upward toward Epiphany?
And finally...
Why wasn''t this POWERFUL, undeniable STUFF working?
He had to open the medieval, ''Golden Book''...
Perhaps he''s missed something...
an extra frog''s leg...
another pint of goat''s blood...
SOMETHING...

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A butterfly jumped out of the book as he opened it...
a GORGEOUS, FUSCIA butterfly...
Odd...very odd indeed...
What was this beautiful creature trying to tell him?
He would brew up a CAULDRON of his famous "WORD TEA…"
The words would show themselves, as always, in the magical brew...
But first, before the tea...
he''d just have a little bite of the PINK, ''salt water taffy''
that he kept in the cupboard next to the tea...
He''d STRETCH it out...
He''d pull on it...
And when it was pulled TIGHT...VERY TIGHT...
suggestions would undoubtedly bounce off of its taut surface...
This is tough to describe...
I guess, My Loves, you''ll just have to TRUST me on it...