As it happens I have nearly an hour to recount what was said. There's bloody football or somesuch on - I was going to watch Colin & Justin. Ha! I bet you thought I had a life. Sorry to disappoint you.
Hopefully you'll remember that I "gave a lift to" a very light travelling man whilst on my way to see my sister, Indescribable DeVice, on Hallowe'en. This is what he told me...
It seems Witches were phased out years ago to make way for the Superhumans. Then they themselves were phased out but are making a very discrete comeback - ignore the Moving Pictures, Naked Knight said, they're fiction - but need some assistance.
My Naked Knight as it turns out, is part of a small group of Supernaturals, as they like to be known now. He asked me if I'd like to sign up!
Well, I'd never heard such nonsense in my life. And I told him so. Supernaturals indeed. For a start, I said, even if I did believe his story, I just don't have the time anymore. I've had to get a job to earn money to survive. Long gone are the times when just being a witch would get you a free cottage, free clothes (albeit hand-me-downs) and all the free food you can shake a wand at. Not to mention respect - look at those little buggers earlier who were trying (quite literally) to eat me out of house and home! Work keeps me occupied for a third of the day. Then there's sleeping. That's another eight hours lost. When am I going to get time to go haring around the country fighting Supervillains etc?
That's when he burst out of his (my) clothes.
My hand went to my throat as I gasped and stared. It appears he was telling the truth about him being a Supernatural. He'd only gone and generated some psychic armour that was too big for his (again, my) clothes to stretch around.
There he sat, looking smug in his slightly glowing, translucent armour. Me being me, recovered too late and ended up looking a bit stupid as I sniffed and turned away slightly, my nose in the air.
Eventually, we got to talking again. It seems he was on a training exercise with the dragon-thing, when he knocked himself out. The dragon-thing was carrying him home (which explained the claw marks on his shoulders) when I disturbed her. She wasn't expecting her airspace to be populated by a domestic witch and reacted by trying to torch me. Apparently, the half formed Scathing Poker Curse made her drop him and by sheer luck, he landed on my broom.
I told him I'd have to think about joining his little club. Then he suggested that we "meet up" when I'm available to "get me used to things". Cheek! I knew what he was after. If only he wasn't so... so... arrogant and sexy. Something stirred inside me and it wasn't a spoon.
Ooh. Must go. I've come over all queer.