Abergavenny man claims a witch attacked him!

HALLOWEEN is traditionally the season of the witch, but unlike the misogynists who once burned and drowned women for kicks, we don’t really view witches as evil incarnate anymore.

Gone are the child-eating, green-faced, wart-infested, broomstick-riding and cackling hell hags of yore, and in their place we have softly-spoken ladies who know a lot about herbs, give tarot readings and dress like Stevie Nicks.

You get the impression that a modern witch would rather burn incense and chant then sleep with Satan and curdle the milk of a prize herd.

Witches are no longer witchy in the burn-them-at-the-stake sense, so it’s rare for anyone in the Western world, particularly Abergavenny, to claim they have been attacked by one.

However, a certain local claims not only was he physically attacked by a witch but that she threatened to turn him into a tortoise and put him in a microwave if he didn’t stop asking questions about a curse he believes was placed on Abergavenny in the 16th Century.

Johnny Turnip told the Chronicle, “First up, I’d like to say I’ve got nothing against witches. I’ve known a fair few in my time, and if they want to do all that holding hands in the pale moonlight while wearing hoods, I’m all for it. I’m no feminist, but I have got a healthy respect for sorcery, and if anyone, man or woman, is handy with a few spells and can summon beings from other dimensions, they got my respect.

“Where I draw the line is when witches get all hysterical, start shrieking and attacking you with their claws. It’s not impressive or otherworldly; it’s just hormonal, and I’ll call them out every time.

“Having said that, I’ve known Puerto Rico Paul’s mother since I was a kid, and for her to attack and threaten me in such a way is a bit out of sorts. Just goes to show, you can never really know a witch!”

Turnip told the Chronicle that the incident occurred when he visited his mate’s mother, Pauline, the Witch of Tudor Street, in her caravan on the outskirts of Llanthony Priory.

“I went there because I wanted to know more about Gertrude Blackheart and the curse she had supposedly placed on Abergavenny.” Explained Turnip.

Turnip explained he found Pauline in her usual spot outside her caravan, skinning rabbits.

“She’s never been the friendliest sort!” Explained Turnip. “But as she’s gotten older, she’s become even nastier, and that acid tongue of hers has become even harsher.

“‘Well! Well!’ She snarled as I approached, and she threw another rabbit carcass in the bucket. ‘I see Dumb, but where’s dumber and braindead?’

“Turnip explained. “They’ve been her pet names for me, Puerto Rico Paul and Big Tony, ever since we were youngsters, but this time she seemed to say it with a little extra injection of venom in her voice.”

Turnip added, “Experience has taught me that it’s always best to play the witch at her own game and so I snapped back, ‘Greetings, hag! I see Watership Down has yet to work its magic on you.’ And gestured my head contemptuously towards the bucket of dead bunnies.

“‘Bahhgh!’ " she crowed. ‘A witch has got to eat, and I’m not poisoning my guts with that processed slop that most call food nowadays.

“‘Anyhow, enough of the small talk, Turnip. Where’s that useless son-of-a-bitch that crawled out of me all those moons ago? He hasn’t even been to see his old momma since you got back from your year in America. What were you all doing out there anyhow? Meddling with stuff you amateurs got no business with, no doubt. You go searching for the supernatural and then one day the supernatural will bite back, and then you’ll see how little you know. Mark my words.’”

Turnip told the Chronicle, “As I watched the witch rant, for the first time in my life I began to understand Puerto Rico Paul’s huge collection of mental disorders. Growing up with the witch always on your case couldn’t be easy. But no sooner had the little spark of empathy ignited than it was snuffed out as I began to see the ghost of my old friend’s face in his mother’s gaunt features, and it sort of sickened me.

“‘Whatever, hag!’ I said. ‘You’re not the only one who's read a book on demonology or played with a Ouija board. I’m frying bigger fish these days than an old drunk who delivers half-baked fortunes from the back of a caravan can ever understand. I’m simply here to pick whatever’s left of your gin-soaked brains. Now what do you know about the curse of Abergavenny!’ I demanded.

“As soon as I mentioned the curse, I could see it got the old witch’s attention. She stopped skinning her rabbit, and for the first time since I arrived she made eye contact. She did the sort of James Cagney thing where the head comes up first, and then the eyes lock into place. You know the sort of thing actors do when they want to look hard, but it didn’t phase me. I was used to her end-of-the-pier tactics.

“‘Well!’ I said after minutes of silence had passed. ‘Are we going to stare meaningfully into each other’s eyes all day, or are you going to help a fellow paranormal investigator out?’”

Turnip added, “After spitting out what might have been blood, but was probably chewing tobacco, the old witch just smirked at me and said, ‘Careful, Turnip. You overstep and overreach. There are waters that don’t need disturbing because their depth is infinite and a universe of foul things lurk there. Whatever you think you know or want to know about the Abergavenny curse, I’d leave it alone if I were you. Now go home and get drunk with that fool of a son of mine and that other big lummox you waste your days with. Your general incompetence and clumsy tread are a threat to us all.’”

Turnip explained, “A lesser soul might have been wounded by the crazy old witch’s words, but I’d heard her say a lot worse to Puerto Rico Paul when he was just a kid. So I decided to play my trump card.

“‘Speak now, witch!’” I commanded. ‘What do you know about Gertrude Blackheart?’

“Without a word or warning, the witch then attacked me in both a physical and psychic sense”

To be continued….