"Yes, Well, I never professed to be the next Chad & Jeremy, but I can carry a tune", Giles said, to his snickering audience.
"Chad and Who? Do you mean Evan and Jarrod?", Xander asked.
"Never mind. What may I ask are your acts for the talent show?"
"I am doing a comedy routine. I haven't written any actual "jokes" yet, but I'm sure hilarious hijinks will

delight the crowd.", Xander boasted.
"I agree Xander, maybe you can tell them the story your mom told me about you peeing your pants in the line at the grocery store!", Anya added.
"Not what I had in mind sweety!", Xander snapped.
"It was really funny though. Especially the part about you getting that rash afterwards!"
"Anya!"

"Well I'm sure the two witches will come up with the best one anyhow, some sort of magic whoopdy do"
"Yeah, what do you have planned Will?", Xander added.
"Well, we decided we shouldn't actually do magic, it may make the townsfolk even more wigged out than they already are. And the already are pretty wiggy", Willow told everyone, "We were thinking maybe a stage hypnosis show"

"Wow, would it be kinky? I heard they do all these crazy sex things in those..", Xander asked, excitedly.
"The aim was wiggiless townsfolk, remember?", Willow smiled.
"I saw some back in high school that were just plain fun. People forgetting their names, being made to think they have to go to the bathroom, etc.", Tara said.
"Kind of like you in the grocery store Xander..", Anya added.

"Anyway, we think it'll be fun.", Tara concluded.
"You do realize that stage hypnotists train for years, don't you?", Giles asked.
"We got it covered Giles", Willow reassured. She gave Tara a knowing wink. The girls had been practicing channeling, and they had been doing a little research. They found there was this famous Italian hypnotist in the 40's, Mesmotto. He had been killed by the husband of one of his lovers. No one was ever

convicted of the crime, because there were too many suspects. Mesmotto used to seduce the women he hypnotized. They became his love slaves. The more powerful and high profile they were, the more he liked it. It was said that most of the wives of the Italian leaders were actually Mesmotto's lovers. Tara and Willow didn't care about that though, they were more interested in his death. When people died unexpectedly, and violently, there souls were often not laid to rest. That meant that they were stuck in the netherworld. It was very impolite to disturb resting souls, but the netherworld souls loved to be contacted. The girls figure through channeling, they could talk to Mesmotto, and get some pointers for their stage show.

 

"Let the dust of dimensions allow us to communicate with the netherworld.", Willow chanted as Tara blew the special dust around them. This was the conduit between dimensions.
"We are looking for Mesmotto, an inhabitant here for 57 annuals...", Willow said, as she began to see into the netherworld. "We seek the assistance of Mesmotto, lord of the hypnotists", Willow called.
"I believe you are looking for me, my lovely witch friend. How may I help you?", asked the dark figure with the deep Italian accent. Willow turned to see the figure. She felt her heart race. He was so.. so... hypnotic!

"We..we need your help...", Willow whispered, entranced.
"I know my sweet. You are so young, so new at your craft. You forget, the netherworld can see what happens in your world. Mentioning someone's name is a sure way to draw their attention, and you two have been talking quite a bit about me. It is not me who will help you, it is you who will help me. I want you to look deeply into my eyes girls, look deep into

my ice blue eyes. Blue like the sea. Let your will drown in the sea of my eyes. Hear only my voice in your mind. You will obey me, you will obey!"
"I will obey", each girl whispered. Both burned with the fever to serve their master. He was all that mattered to either young witch at that moment.
"There is an incantation to revive the trapped netherworld souls. You will find it, and you will perform it, do you understand?"
"Yes Master", each replied.

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