Once upon a time there lived a witch. This witch was not an evil witch, but neither was he particularly good. He went about his business, living his life, and only occasionally meddling in the lives of others, as any witch worth their salt would do.
One bright sunny morning, as the witch was cleaning the precious things in the house, he accidentally rubbed his crystal ball the wrong way with a feather duster. The milky glass orb shimmered into life then cleared, becoming perfectly transparent. The witch was about to switch it back to stand-by mode when movement within it caught his eye.
He squinted into the depths of the crystal and was able to discern two bestriped figures heading towards him. How odd, he said to himself, squinting deeper in an attempt to glean more details. As the image grew closer, the witch had a sense of something porcine and/or marsupial about the two figures.
Suddenly, he gasped in realisation, dropping the crystal ball as his hands flew to his open mouth. The 'ball fell onto the floor with a loud crack. It split open releasing shards of glass and a very faint 'oink'. The witch staggered backwards, his hands desperately weaving a protective spell before him but he knew it was in vain. They would soon be here!