A pinch of toad lips. Check.
A sprinkle of ground spider. Check.
Cauldron simmering on medium-low. Check.
Have a sip of sludge, Boo, and I’ll have the pet I’ve always wanted! 1-2-3, a howling werewolf you will BE!
I said a howling werewolf you’ll be.
“Shiver me timbers, it’s dank in here. And what’s that smell, Matey?”
It’s sludge. You aren’t hairy! No fangs?
“You don’t like my gold teeth?”
I’d better check the recipe. Tombstones! It calls for smoked spider.
“And your toad lips are expired.”
Can’t you at least howl?