Jasen Fisher: Luke

The Witches

Luke

Helga: Real witches are very cruel, and they have a highly developed sense of smell. A real witch could smell you across the street on a pitch-black night.
Luke: She couldn't smell me. I've just had a shower.
Helga: Oh yes, she could. The cleaner you are, the more a witch can smell you.
Luke: That doesn't make sense.
Helga: Oh, yes it does. A dirty child, it is the dirt she smells. A clean child, it is the child.
Luke: Wow. I'll never have a shower again, and I'll have you for an excuse.
Helga: Well, just not often. Only once a month is probably safe.
Luke: So a witch could smell me right now?
Helga: To me you smell of raspberries and cream. But to a witch, you would smell absolutely disgusting.
Luke: What kind of disgusting?
Helga: Like... dog's droppings.
Luke: I don't believe it.
Helga: You don't believe it? What's more, to a witch you would smell of FRESH dog's droppings.

Luke: So if no one's seen the Grand High Witch, how are you sure she exists?
Helga: [she looks at him] Nobody's ever seen the Devil, but we know He exists, don't we?
Luke: Yes.
Helga: For all you know, a witch might be living next door to you.

Woman in Black: Hello, young man. What a magnificent tree-house. Did you build it yourself?
Luke: My dad and I did.
Woman in Black: [opening her purse] I've got something for you here. Something I think you'll like.
[Her eyes glow. Luke gasps]
Woman in Black: Jump down, and I'll show you.
Luke: No!
Woman in Black: What?
Luke: No, thank you very much.
Woman in Black: It's worth a lot of money...
Luke: This is private property.
Woman in Black: [pulling a snake out of her purse] There's nothing to be frightened of, I just wanted to give you this. I find him on my walks, he's quite harmless. See? Little boys love snakes. Here, he's yours.
Luke: [calling] Grandma!
Woman in Black: Look, I'll leave him here if you like, then you can come down on your own and get him. They wriggle away quite quickly... UNLESS you tell them not to.
[she whispers to the snake]

Helga: Oh, how I love English hotel teas! Cream cakes, and shortbread, and...
Luke: No grandma.
Helga, Luke: No cream cakes.
Helga: And no shortbread either; it's full of sugar. Soon I will be eating the same diet as your mice.

Helga: Witches spend their time plotting to kill children, stalking the wretched child like a hunter stalks a bird in the forest.
Luke: Did they hunt you?
[she shows him her right hand with a missing finger]
Luke: You said it was an accident...
Helga: A very unpleasant accident.

Mr. Stringer: I'm sorry, madam, but I cannot permit mice in my hotel.
Helga: How dare you say that when your rotten hotel is full of rats anyway?
Mr. Stringer: Rats? There are no rats in this hotel!
Helga: I saw one this morning running along the corridor, into the kitchens.
Mr. Stringer: Madam, you only arrived in the hotel this afternoon.
Helga: [scoffs] Morning, afternoon, I saw a rat in your hotel, and if matters do not improve, I shall have to report you to the public health authorities.
Mr. Stringer: Look, madam, I'm not prepared...
Luke: The cakes in the lounge are nibbled around the edges, too. I can show you.
Helga: If you are not careful, the health people will order the whole hotel closed before everyone gets typhoid fever.
Mr. Stringer: You can't be serious, madam!
Helga: I have never been more serious in my life. Now - will you or will you not let my grandchild keep his hygienic and perfectly harmless pet mice?