It is hard to make jokes about the threat of nuclear warfare, but the internet is relentless. Posts wondering ‘witch’ city would be destroyed, jokes about upgraded spells, and a variation of the Drake meme format in which he wore a witch’s hat, preferring the Broom Force over the Air Force, all surfaced within a week of the announcement.

          There were more harmful reactions to the ultimatum from the three Witches. Not a few conspiracy theorists and even some news sources believed the video was a Russian hoax, leading to yet more posturing and aggression between the two nations. A short lived cult imploded outside Reno when its leader demanded the congregation kill itself to appease the ‘Grey Sisters’. Grandmothers who spoke other languages were advised by their loved ones not to do so out of the house, and the FBI sent undercover agents to interview people in retirement homes. They say in some New England town they had a real-life witch hunt and hanged three old women, though no source online provided the name of the town or the women.

          With all the ruckus about, it’s worth looking back into how, exactly, three Witches came to hold the United States hostage with its own nukes.

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          Uriel, Ariel, and Oriel had seen the White House ten-thousand times through their scrying pool, but the rippling images on the water never elicit the same reaction as seeing it in person. 

          “The King of this place lives here?” That was Ariel, nose wrinkled in a sneer.

          Uriel shoved her. “They don’t call them Kings in this dimension, but yeah.”

          “All that grass.” Oriel peered through the wrought iron fence. “And for what, looking at? That lawn could be the common grounds for five villages.”

          “Forget that, Oriel.” Always Uriel to get them back on track. “Remember your lines?”

          “Duh.” Ariel said. “They’re shorter than most of our spells, anyway.”

          “Then come on. I want to go back home.”

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          If nuclear fallout could be called a bad day, then I could say that the President was a little shocked at seeing three old women appear on his desk. As it was, he fell out of his chair and got his first view of the trio from between his upturned legs. 

          Together, they began chanting, and objects flew in circles around them: pens, papers, books, two lamps, the contents of the wastepaper basket, and a few inexplicable playing cards. All at once they stopped. The items fell where they were. “We can set off your nukes.” They said in unison. “If you do not comply with our demands your nation will be reduced to rubble.”

 

          Just like that, it happened. Who knew such a short spell could be so effective.

         

          It took two months, but the United States complied, bringing the strange list of materials to ‘the Center’, which, after an hour long cabinet meeting, was decided to be Lebanon, Kansas. They brought, as asked, all the contents of Fort Knox, the nation’s supply of pigs blood, a week’s worth of dead cats from around the country, three tons of rosemary, and every excavator that could be found. 

          With the help of Lebanon PD and various government agencies, they cleared a perimeter. In came an entourage, three black SUVs, with Uriel, Ariel, and Oriel in the middle one. Just as quickly as they came, they left. No one else could enter the circle, according to the witches, nor could they look from above.

          They tried their best to listen, of course, but for some time it was silent, but for the roar of excavator after excavator as each one worked itself to exhaustion. Apparently the witches had not heard of gas stations.

          A week and a day of this went on until it began. A rumbling from afar, then a burst of light; night turned to day for a moment in Lebanon, lit from afar as if by some otherworldly column. It disappeared just after. A sonic boom trailed behind.

          Warnings be damned, agents tore through the fields to the Geographic Center plinth. When they arrived everything was as they left it, but for the hundreds of excavators placed in random positions and often flipped on their side. No sign remained, neither of the excavator’s work, nor the blood, nor the rosemary, nor the cats, nor the gold, nor the witches.