“Let there be rain!” she declared. To her surprise, it began pouring. Did she really just do that?
She wondered what else her powers could get her. “Let there be shoes,” she cried and there she was, at Manolo Blahnik!
Ellen couldn’t believe it. The correspondence witchcraft course had worked. She’d started it on a whim, but now she had new shoes.
A late night junkie, she was all in after Erik Estrada promised “powers Harry Potter’d be jealous of” between Cosby Show episodes.
It was a wonder she even saw the infomercial. She was working on a thesis about the political meanings of Cosby Show sweaters.
However as she looked around the room at the piles of paper only surpassed by the colors of the sweaters, she felt that she needed
a break, a life, a husband who would fit all these sweaters, she turned to her tv & vanilla frosting when what did she find?
“Claire, is that you?” he exclaimed. “No, I’m not Claire, there’s no more Claire. Only Ellen,” she said as he looked around & saw his sweaters.
Ellen couldn’t believe how well her correspondence witchcraft course worked. First rain. Then Manolo Blahnik. Now Cliff Huxtable?
Cliff went to Ellen’s door and immediately began trying to fix her doorbell. Meanwhile, Ellen wanted to keep testing her powers
“Let there be music!” Immediately, a shortish man in a suit appeared behind her, holding a boombox. It was playing a mix of…
bluegrass and whale songs.
The suited man reached in his trouser pocket and pulled out a small bag that resembled Michael Gross. He handed it to her.
She took the bag and examined its contents: one marble, a Slim Jim, and some weed. “Yep,” she thought, “Michael Gross.”
Not knowing who Michael Gross was she waved her hand & turned the bag to look like the judges on @NBCthevoice @ceelogreen 1st side.
“Crap!” yelled Ellen. She loved Gross, the Family Ties dad, ever since last week’s marathon. Elsewhere, Cliff tested the doorbell.
The sky open and thunder shook Ellen’s windows. Lightening hazed her vision momentarily. Coming to, she realized all was taken away.
Lacking a pure heart, Ellen had only temporary magic. She needed to find the only one who could purify sins: Patty Blagojevich.
Patty was nestled in the corner booth at Harold’s Chicken Shack on East 53rd street, reading palms as usual.
Ellen headed to Ravenswood to track down Patty. She’d certainly be home from her reality show foray by now.
Ellen found a note on the Blagojevich’s door: “Will return by 3. On the south side getting chicken & a weave for Rod.” She sighed.
Ellen stammered as she approached Patti, “I… I just…” The two locked eyes. “It’s fine,” Patti said. “You can touch my bangs.”
Ellen didn’t want to touch the hair but cut it. The crisp hair, the faint scent of AquaNet – perfect for her next potion.
Ellen shook Patty’s hand, remarked how it resembled a man’s hand then left. She only needed two more ingredients for her potion.
With Cliff still at the house messing with the doorbell & entertaining CeeLo & The Voice judges, Ellen was in no rush to get home.
So she continued on her quest to find the other 2 ingredients for her potion. Up next: a blobfish fin.
The blobfish had been known to frequent the Redwood Tap, so that was her first stop.
Ellen, forgetting her witchcraft powers, texted “Redwood Tap Chicago” to G-O-O-G-L-E to find its address. She awaited the response.
Google texted back: 
Ellen thought maybe she misheard the bar’s name. But she trekked to Elgin anyway.
Ellen got there, but alas, no blobfish. “Wrightwood Tap, not Redwood,” said a Komondor bellied up to the bar taking whiskey shots.
Not to be out done, ellen asked the bartender for the rest of the bottle of whiskey, and started drinking it like bottled water…
After chugging a bottle of Early Times, Ellen set her sights on the Wrightwood Tap. Drunk, she called Cliff to drive her there.
Cliff was busy testing the doorbell, so when his “Get Low” ringtone went off, he barely heard it over the barrage of ding dongs.
Cliff picked up just in time. “Be there in an hour,” he said. “Nope, haven’t fixed it yet.” He hung up and headed out to get Ellen.
Cliff got to a drunk Ellen right as she and the Komondor started karaoke. “Let’s go find your blobfish,” Cliff said. Ellen burped.
Cliff gave Ellen coffee to sober her up for the drive. Pulling up to the Wrightwood Tap, they saw the slimy fish at the jukebox.
“Hey blobfish,” Ellen slurred when she got inside. “I need your fin.” Meanwhile, Cliff asked the bartender if they had a doorbell.
The blobfish, tired of being harrassed for his bloblike body, acquiesced. Ellen burped again, took his fin and dragged Cliff away.
Onto the 3rd and final ingredient – a lemon. Ellen told Cliff to take her to Jewel. “You don’t need more alcohol,” he said.
They got to Jewel, and Ellen went to the produce aisle. Cliff, however, went to find the manager to ask if they had a doorbell.
Ellen grabbed a ripe lemon, paid for it, then dragged Cliff away again. She needed to get home to look at her Potions 401 syllabus.
They made it home, and Ellen looked at her notes on making a potion. Cliff went back to doorbell, while she got the cauldron out.
She dumped the ingredients in the cauldron – Patty Blagojevich’s bangs, a blobfish fin and a lemon – heated it up and stirred it.
Ellen stirred the mixture until became a frothy liquid. She poured it in an old flower vase because she didn’t have any beakers.
Now, the final exam. If the potion worked, Ellen would receive a certificate of completion from the witchcraft school.
She followed the exam’s directions, which said to pour the potion on a sheet of paper. She had no idea what would happen.
Almost instantly, the paper began smoking. Ellen was riveted. Cliff, not so much. He kept working the doorbell, oblivious.
The paper was now shaking before morphing into a person. But not just anyone – Erik Estrada. “Congratulations,” he said to Ellen.
He handed Ellen a certificate of course completion. She was a certified witch! She jumped for joy, only to be interrupted by Cliff.
“I fixed it,” he said. Ellen had lost her patience. “Abracadabra Alakazam, get rid of this annoying man.” And poof! He was gone.
If only she could find a potion now to stop the doorbell from ringing.
Ellen practiced her witchcraft all night. The only time she stopped was to order the Slap Chop, a Snuggie and Nutrisystem.
THE END
This was a fun one. I loved it. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with me writing about the last 20 tweets. Someone had to get a drunk Ellen home safely. Anyway, there were a lot of great pop culture references in this story, from Cliff Huxtable to Michael Gross (Family Ties’ Mr. Keaton) to Patty Blagojevich’s bangs. Who knew Ellen would need those precious locks?
Thanks for writing, everyone. I’m especially honored that my old co-worker @Pawela04 jumped in. He tweeted four lines, and those four tweets were his first four tweets. EVER. That’s pretty cool. Also, thanks to @BlackDreams for the continuous plugs. It’s always nice to have a more ambassadors. Hopefully she’ll pick up the little nuances the more she contributes. And I could never do this without my reliable stable of writers @kikiandkyle, @hwtibbs, @FeliciaCago, @jimmydoestea and @thatgirlmari – you guys save me and make the stories so good. So thanks for humoring me and writing time and time again. And to @swanieson – you managed to sneak a line in just in time!
Once Upon 140 