A windswept moor.
[Curtain opens. Three very wet and bedraggled WITCHES enter and gather around a cauldron. Cue thunder and lightning.]
First Witch (cackling): When shall we three meet again,
Second Witch: Couldn't we just meet inside?
First Witch: That's not the point. The foul weather's supposed to be for atmospheric effect.
Second Witch (whining): But we could do the spell indoors. My hair's going all funny in this stupid Scottish weather - I don't want to get split ends like you two!
[The First Witch glares.]
First Witch: I do not have split ends!
Second Witch: Do too!
First Witch: Do not! And even so, at least I can cackle properly!
Second Witch: Hey! I was cackling in a dark-arts manner long before you were even created, you stupid little ball of energy!
[Third Witch rolls her eyes as the pair continue to bicker.]
Third Witch: GUYS! Can w-we please just get this done?
[Muttered sulky 'sorry's from other two Witches.]
Third Witch: I have seen the morrow's stars
First Witch: Ah, man, I've got math homework to do.
All: Fair is foul, and foul is fair;
[They vanish in mist]