... women are strange creatures. Especially witches... only the derreanged would side with Zack and his toothy croney.

I lifted the curtain off of me and decided I knew when I wasn't welcome. People can never appreciate a ghost. All ways 'excorsism' here and 'begone' there. All most makes you think you're unwelcomed. Although, the prospect of having my vengeance against Zack and his pet shark burned passionatly in my mind. However; first things first: The Bitch Queen 

Swiftly, without much attention, I got up and sauntered to the food table and loaded myself up with ammo, along with turning on a lamp and flushing Shydow out of his pathetic hiding place. If i'm blunt; anywhere stocking up on shrimp-puffs are practically begging for this kind of treatment.

With that I dashed a mini-quiche off of a sofa and nailed the school slut, Carly Cannibal, who in turn hurled a plastic cup of punch at the (from his point of view anyway) innocent Mitchel Mutant.

Behold, the glory of house-hold warfare! Within seconds shrimp puffs and french fancies were flying through the air like graduation caps. Quite satisfying to see Sandra Skele's Left eye be replaced with an olive. Now was to make my move! But not before flushing Shydow out from yet another terrible excuse for a hiding spot. I've never really had anything in favour of Shydow... not since he thought it'd be funny to turn that bastard dust buster on me all those years back. One weakness for another, Shydie; wind or fear of a tan?

Punch in hand, i found Wynter chatting up that greasy minger Sam Sapian. Where on earth is the appeal? Sam can transform into a monkey...yippee... his life must be complete... although, I hear his banana isn't much to brag about. Quietly I poured the punch into Wynter's tasteless hat and made an escape, taking a random hat from the coat rack on the way out, whilst turning on the nearest lamp and once more sending Shydow scurrying off into the shadow of the nearest party guest. It won't be long before  he gets stepped on.

"Now for Zack...." thought I, as a cocktail sausage whizzed through my chest.

The End

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