In the heated battle, bursts from SJ’s other portable potions aided their efforts. Once freed from her own ball and chain, my friend had poured the remaining potions into her pocket and taken to the audience to assist with the fight.
Now she was running back and forth across the theater firing whatever potions she pulled out of her skirt at our furry, malicious opponents. She was really booking it too—bobbing, weaving, rolling underneath Therewolf after Therewolf as she added to the bedlam. Using the rubber band around her wrist, her red portable potions were blasting back attacking Therewolves. Her silver ones froze their limbs, and her green ones released grand splashes of a mucus-looking substance that stuck to the Therewolves’ feet and kept them temporarily glued to wherever they’d be
