Dear Margaret Rolfe of North Pendleton Village,
Good evening, madam. Thank you for your query regarding last week’s transaction.
I will admit that I was surprised when I received your letter asking to return the baby you purchased from me. Not many things surprise me anymore, as you can imagine, me being a 500-year-old cursed hag who regularly communes with Satan and all, but you managed to do it, so congratulations are undoubtedly in order! However, I am afraid that what you are asking for is impossible.
From the very beginning of our interaction, I had my doubts regarding this particular magical venture. Sure, I get villagers creeping in here all the time asking for normal things like love potions, curses, and attractive demonic lovers, but a live baby? That was a first for me. However, I decided that your request, while unusual, was sincere, and thus upheld my end of the bargain and got you a baby. Now it seems that you have changed your mind, and while I absolutely sympathize with your situation, I cannot comply.
In your letter you insist that you have every right to return the baby because, in your own words, it is “defective.” You then go on to list the ways in which you believe this to be true. I am afraid I must stick up for myself here, Margaret. “Cries a lot” and “very smelly” are not defects, and the fact that you didn’t know that to begin with is troubling to me. Pre-natal research is important. As a mother to several monstrous, shrieking fleshbeasts myself, I knew what I was getting myself into when I allowed Beelzebub to commune with my moste unholy partes. Unless you can provide me with actual evidence that the baby is legitimately broken, your argument holds no water.
I also feel that I must reiterate just how difficult it was for me to procure this baby for you. First, I had to trudge all the way to the next village to locate a woman who had just given birth, and I have bad knees, so that was very painful for me. Second, I had to turn the woman and her entire family into frogs because they objected to me entering their home and attempting to steal their newborn child. That, as I’m sure you can imagine, was a real hassle. And third, you and I both had to cut our palms open and bind ourselves together in a complicated and painful blood ritual that no doubt will have very serious magical consequences for you down the line.
What I’m trying to say is, I worked hard to get this baby for you, so I cannot just “take it back because looking after it is too annoying”.
It is not my fault that you are currently regretting your purchase. Having a baby is a huge responsibility, and while it is more than understandable that as a new mother you are tired, stressed, and quite possibly haunted by the demons that now reside in your blood, that, to use cheap colloquialisms, ain’t my problem.
At the risk of you making good on your promise to take your business elsewhere, I most certainly do not offer what you naively referred to as “in-hut credit.” This is not a store. I do not provide refunds. I am a dangerous magical entity who lives in a haunted forest, for Lucifer’s sake, and I need you to respect that. As for the hut itself, I apologize that you found the candles “too dim for you to see properly.” I honestly don’t know what you expected when you decided to enter a dwelling made of mud and my own hair, but I will see what I can do to make the experience more comfortable for you next time.
As per your strongly-worded request, I took your complaint downstairs to the Dark Lord of All. He said exactly what I am telling you now, albeit with fewer words and more bats. You should know that neither of us appreciated the threat you made about telling everyone in your village that we were “very rude to you and provided unsatisfactory results”. That is simply not true and I must ask you to refrain from spreading lies. If I am to be feared by all, it should be due to my penchant for picking my teeth with the bones of flaxen-haired male virgins, not my inability to complete a client’s request in a kind and effective manner.
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the primary reason why you should not return your baby to me is that I will eat it. I do not want to, Margaret, but I will. Human babies are delicious and I have a scary reputation to maintain.
I hope that this letter settles any concerns you might have, and I sincerely hope that you will think of me the next time you have a supernatural demand. Despite the bloodcurdling shrieks the people of your village hear from me at the stroke of midnight every full moon, I truly do appreciate your patronage.
Yours moste respectfully,
The Witch in the Woods