Barista: Trick’s over, Mr Wizard. I want my purse back.
Wizard: There is no trick. There are only the energies of the cosmos distilled to a singular...
Barista: (She hits him) Gimme back my purse! Right now!
Wizard: I hate this dimension! Abrasive, garish, chaotic! (He retrieves the satchel.)
Wizard: But I do love the coffee. I thank you. (He grabs the coffee to leave.)
Barista: Hold it, asshole! (She stops him.) Where is my purse?
Wizard: In... in the shadow place... the Nether-Place, where the sun fears to shine...
Barista: You put it in your underwear!? You disgusting freak! Give me my purse! My phone is in
there! My keys! My cards!
Wizard: It is gone. You must seek a new bag. From where it has gone, nothing returns.
(The Barista frantically searches the area and the Wizard for the purse.)
Barista: Enough with the act. You’re a freak in a bathrobe. You did a trick. You hid my purse. I
want it back. I want my phone!
Wizard: This was no parlour game, no idle amusement. This was a powerful spell that can be
used to...
Barista: I’m not stupid! There’s no magic! There’s no other dimensions! There’s mirrors and trap
doors and strings! (She grabs the staff.) Things don’t vanish because you point a stick at
them and say “Go-elsewhere”!
(She points the staff at the satchel as she says “Go-elsewhere”. A flash of light and a thunderclap,
then momentary black. The lights come back. The satchel is gone)