Race car drivers

Cassandra was her high school’s resident outsider. A little bit goth and a little bit emo. She mostly kept to herself, and never expected four of the boys from her backwater town to ever talk to her. The first, named, Henry, spoke with a strong southern slur, “We hear ya know witchcraft.”

“I studied it a little,” she responded quietly.

“Well, none of us are lookin’ f’ward to leavin’ school next year, havin’ to go to work or nothin’. But maybe if we could do some sorta fun thing; work would be cool.”

“Uh-huh,” she didn’t quite know where the boy was going with this.

Finally, he blurted out, “Can ya make us race car drivers!?”

“I can, but it will cost you.”

“Money tain’t nothing.”

“Oh, it isn’t going to cost you money...”

A few months later, the boys returned to their hometown to thank Cassandra. She had turned them all into successful race car drivers. Of course, Cassandra was right about the price. The limited magic she knew could only be performed by taking something very important from the boys, something essential to who they were: their very manhood. They were women now, but they couldn’t be happier. They were living their dreams...even if they were doing it not quite as
expected.