"Back there is the witches' pub," Steve said, "So snag a brew before we leave for this journey." Perhaps the scariest thought of all was being brew-less.
Armed with beer and mosquito repellent, we went forward. Unfortunately, Witches Repellent is not sold in these parts.
"Right here is a Witch's golf ball," Steve said.
It started to get dark. We stumbled upon the lakeside retreat - the weekend getaway for Witches. They have Witch Stitch & Bitch club meetings here. If you're not a witch and are caught here, they skin you and use your hair as yarn. Yikes.
Suddenly, jaws showed up.
And that's all we know. The end. Worst story ever.