the Kraft

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  It was a late September night, and the heat of summer was long gone. The wind had chased it away with a cool breeze. Any warmth was long gone. Windows rattled softly as the storm picked up. A coyote howled in a field far away. But that was no concern of theirs.
  Three cloaked figures stood, waving their hands in slow, hypnotic motions over a broiling pot. Their chants grew louder.
  "Double, double toil and trouble-"
  "Fire burn and cauldron bubble!"
  "Hey! I was going to-"
  The kitchen light suddenly flicked on, and the three states practically shrieked. There America stood, looking very tired and a bit grumpy. "What in the world are you three doing at four in the moring?"
  Massachusetts shrugged. "We're doing some Macbeth lines as we stir our Mac and Cheese."
  The country rubbed his temples. "Why am I not surprised."
  "What, we were hungry." Louisiana shook the cheese powder packet.
  "And getting into the Hallows Eve spirt'," Gerogia grinned maliciously and raised his hands out of the cloak, wiggling his fingers. "Don't cross the Kraft, boy-"
  America had turned around, trying not to ground them all in the spot. "Just keep your chanting down to a minimum. If you wake up Hawaii, you're dealing with 'er."
  They all nodded in agreement, and turned back to their boiling noodles.

             Dear AutumniaSalem,

  I hope this entertained you. Thank you very much for the idea. It was fun to write, even if it was on the short side. Happy spooky season.

            Sincerely,
            Blue

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