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. . . but you're still being attacked by this wacky sword!

Suddenly, your hand stops changing. Apparently, whatever magical spell that started to change you was very weak. You don't want to chance being bitten again . . . or stabbed.

The crazed sword flies in circles over your head and begins singing a familiar song from your childhood:

"Sunny days . . . sweeping the . . . clouds away, On my way, to where the air . . . is . . . sweet, Can you tell me how to get . . . how to get to Sesame Street?"

As the song ends, the sword abruptly nosedives, the sharp edge aimed at your head.

Written by an anonymous author

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