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Morganna was a lonely witch.
Her biological clock was ticking.
Like most stereotypical witches, she had one helluva conk on her, and one helluva wart on said conk.
Thumbing her spell book, she dropped a wide variety of unsavoury items into a boiling cauldron.
"I don't want a Mercedes, I don't want a computer, all I want, is a perfect hooter," she chanted.
She had the nose of a supermodel.
She uploaded her profile photo to singles website,
Suitors were aplenty.
She found a beau.
They married.
Their kids were as ugly as sin, but that's another story.

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