Episode 4: The Witch and the Judgmental Cauldron

It was another peaceful day in Felix's workshop — which meant something was about to go horribly wrong.

Felix was tinkering with a "self-cleaning broom" (currently stuck in smack-everything-mode) when the door swung open.

In walked a witch. Or, more accurately, a woman dressed like she lost a fight with a fabric store. Her robe was patchwork, her hat flopped sideways, and her hair stuck out in all directions like she'd been struck by lightning — twice.

Felix looked up. "Let me guess. You need a spell fixed?"

The witch huffed. "No! I need a cauldron."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "You're a witch without a cauldron?"

She crossed her arms. "I had one. It exploded."

Zira peeked out from a drawer. "What were you cooking? Gunpowder stew?"

The witch scowled. "It was a health potion. Probably."

Felix sighed. "Alright, what do you want in this new cauldron?"

The witch brightened. "Ooh, can you make it stir itself?"

Felix nodded. "Easy enough."

"And maybe keep the temperature steady?"

"Sure."

"And — oh! — make it give me feedback while I cook!"

Felix blinked. "...Feedback?"

The witch grinned. "Yeah! Like, 'a pinch more salt' or 'simmer longer' — that kind of thing."

Zira snorted. "You sure you want that? Sounds like a talking cooking teacher."

The witch shrugged. "Hey, if it helps me stop blowing up my kitchen, I'm all for it."

Felix scratched his chin. "Alright. Self-stirring, temperature control, and feedback. Coming right up."

---

Two hours later…

Felix stood back, wiping his hands on his apron. The cauldron sat on the counter — sleek, shiny, and enchanted to perfection.

"Alright," Felix said proudly, "moment of truth."

He tapped the rim. The cauldron hummed to life. A smooth, calm voice echoed out:

"Cauldron activated. Ready for culinary excellence."

The witch clapped her hands. "Oh, this is gonna be amazing!"

Felix smirked. "Give it a try."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of ingredients. "Let's start with a basic healing potion."

She tossed in a sprig of thyme, a dash of crushed mandrake root, and a pinch of powdered moonstone.

The cauldron stirred itself gently, humming along. Then it spoke:

"Ah, a classic start. Basic, but effective. Like socks."

The witch blinked. "Uh… thanks?"

She added a splash of water and a slice of dragonfruit.

The cauldron swirled faster.

"Interesting choice. Bold. Reckless. Like dyeing your hair with fire magic."

Felix covered his mouth to hide his grin.

The witch frowned. "Is it...bad?"

"No, no," the cauldron purred. "It's not bad. It's just… unorthodox. Like wearing sandals to a royal banquet."

Zira wheezed from behind Felix.

The witch glared at Felix. "Did you make it sarcastic?"

Felix raised his hands defensively. "Hey, it's just giving feedback like you asked!"

The witch grumbled and tossed in a dried phoenix feather.

The cauldron paused. Then it spoke.

"Ah, phoenix feather. Bold move. Not many chefs go straight for 'incendiary diarrhea' on the first attempt."

Zira fell off the counter, howling with laughter.

The witch's face turned red. "What did you program into this thing?!"

Felix bit back a laugh. "It's learning from your cooking. It's... adaptive."

The witch stared at him. "Adaptive?"

The cauldron stirred lazily.

"Adaptive. Like a cat deciding which furniture to destroy next."

The witch groaned. "Okay, forget feedback — can you make it stop talking?"

Felix smirked. "That's a separate upgrade. Costs extra."

The cauldron hummed thoughtfully.

"Good idea. If you pay more, maybe he'll fix your wardrobe too."

The witch shrieked.

Zira lost it completely.

Felix leaned on the counter, grinning. "So... cash or credit?"