The wand talks

"Yeah," the wand says dully. "You are so wonderful and magical ... not."

"Yes I am!" you say, before realizing what had just happened. "The wand ... it talks."

"Of course I talk, you dimwit! Now pick me up so I can enjoy a full view of the world," the wand orders.

"Okay, okay, bossy much," you mutter, picking it up.

"I heard that!" the wand says accusingly.
"I'm scared of a wand. How interesting," you note to yourself. "Maybe I should be scared of other things, too. Like my dog's breakfast. That's about as magical as this wand."

"I hope you were being sarcastic there, because I heard that too!" the wand says. "I have pretty good ea --" it stops mid-sentence and seems to gasp in awe. "The view!"

"Yeah, that's my driveway," you say, nodding. "Pretty stunning, hey? Especially that green blobby dog's poo in the middle of it, hey? Dog's poo is ... wait, dog's poo? What did I tell my neighbour about his dog and its extra-terrestrial poo?"

"Nothing," the wand suggests.

"Ugh," you say, now knowing how hard it is to communicate with a wand. "Never mind."

"I think you should visit your neighbour to sort things out," the wand says.

The End

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