♪ Magic is real here ♪
♪ Far away from home ♪
♪ Anything can happen ♪
♪ When witches make the rules ♪
♪ Monsters are cool ♪
♪ The moon is our friend ♪
♪ I wanna stay with you ♪
♪ On Summer Camp Island ♪
'Tis early morn at Miss Mary's
boarding house for Hot Corn Girls.
And Susie doth brush, with no great rush,
her delicate pink curls.
Pink! Curls!
Susie looks in the mirror and gives her hair a toss
and then she applies to her survise
some early-17th-century lip gloss!
Lip! Gloss!
Today is very special.
Susie's 15th birthday.
So Susie seeks from 'neath the sheets a box she's hidden away.
Hidden! Aw-- Bold Pete,
I know we're all very excited about my imminent foray
into magical maturity,
but I don't want everyone in London
to hear about my special box.
That's why I've been hiding it.
So if you don't mind...
Okay.
I'll just stand here.
Quietly.
This box is packed with irreplaceable family heirlooms.
The ritual chalice, dodo feather, witch grease,
and especially the heather brooch.
With these, when Mum and Dad get here,
everything will be ready for me to become the most magical mage.
Then we're all going to return to the lovely moors
and live happily ever after.
Our Dearest Susie, we can't wait to see you
and Mildred in your London digs.
Your folks are slogging along
with Mildred's potion in tow
and will be back in time to perform your Gibbous Rite!
We're so proud of you, Suz!
Love, Mum.
And Poppa Woppa!
I just want to wish you a happy birthday, Susie.
Oh, you've grown so much since you showed up
on our doorstep a year ago.
Today you go from hot corn girl to hot corn woman.
Miss Mary, today is also the day of my Gibbous Rite.
I'm finally going to be a full witch.
Just like you.
This is my heather brooch. It's part of the ceremony.
It represents the moorland where I'm from.
What does your thistle brooch symbolize?
It's 'cause I'm from Scotland.
That place is lousy with thistles.
Susie, Susie, Susie! Happy birthday!
I love you. I can't wait to give you a gift.
I need to figure out what your gift is,
but it'll be really ostentatious
and something that you've always wanted.
I got it! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Let me get ready for this.
Tuck that under there.
Get my frog poncho.
'Kay, ready.
A seven-pound ham.
Oh. There's frogs in the ham, eh?
Oh, well, can't be helped.
That's just what you get with old Mildred.
Let me try again. Focus, Mildred.
Something grand, soft. Ah-ha!
Three wooly sheep from the heathers.
Whoop. More frogs, eh?
Well, at least the frogs aren't inside the sheep.
Happy birthday.
♪ Happy baaa-thday to ewe ♪
This is very thoughtful, Mil. I love the sheep. I do.
But the greatest gift you could give me today
is just to be a pinch more reserved.
I just want to sell the corn and get back here
by 4:30, frogless, and ready for my Gibbous Rite.
That's all you want?
Yeah. Easy.
Can I get you that for Christmas too?
Hot corn!
Buttery hot corn!
Pipin' hot corn!
Get some corn for your Jenny.
Hot! Two for a penny.
Pipin' hot! Three for the granny...
Oh. There are those witch girls
who ignore you like you're a nobody.
Maybe if they knew it was your 15th birthday,
they'd think you're a somebody.
Mildred, no.
Hey! Witch girls!
Come over and say happy birthday to my sister.
But you have to be a pinch reserved.
I wanted them to wander over on their own
and casually notice that I look special today
and then find out, through casual conversation,
that today is my birthday.
Sorry. I didn't know about that.
That sounds so...
Subtle?
I'm 13. I don't know about subtle yet.
There's a whole bunch of stuff you don't understand
and won't until you're my age.
I can't wait.
Oh, my goodness. Where are our manners?
Happy birthday, uh...
Susie. Her name is Susie.
That's so weird.
My older brother's girlfriend told me that hot corn girls
have names like "Lil Patches" or "Scooter."
Well, her name is Susie,
and the next time you see her,
she'll be a full-fledged witch.
She'll have her Gibbous Rite later today.
Mildred, shush.
Oh, I wish I'd brought a gift for you.
Actually, I absolutely have a gift for you.
We just bought this from the shops.
Everyone who's anyone is doing it.
Wait, what are you doing?
You can't actually give her that.
It's dangerous.
Hush up. It's going to be funny.
Take it.
Immortality potion?
Uh, no, thanks.
I mean, I probably shouldn't take it on an empty stomach.
Well, lucky for you, you've got plenty of hot corn.
Oh, I actually don't even like hot corn.
It's just a job for me.
Strictly business.
Strictly business?
You love hot corn, Susie.
You love it so much you got married to a basket of hot corn.
I officiated at the wedding.
I also delivered invitations and gave the toast.
I even learned calligraphy for it.
Don't you remember?
Happy birthday, Little Patches.
It's Susie!
Yoo-hoo! Girls.
Come back to the rooming house for an early dinner.
I've made some birthday hot corn chowder
with birthday hot corn cakes for dessert.
You don't want any tummy rumbles during your Gibbous Rite.
Oh, and Susie, I've, uh -- I've got a letter for you.
Ooh, it must be from my parents.
I love hot corn chowder.
You coming, Susie?
I'm just gonna read this letter, Miss Mary.
I'll be there in a minute.
Dear Susie, my name is William Rutherford.
I was escorting your parents on their journey back to London,
but we became separated and --
and I'm not really sure where they are now.
I mean, I'm sure they're fine, but, well,
let me know if you hear from them, okay?
Yours sincerely, William Ruthf--
I can't believe my parents are missing.
Well, they're tough adventurers.
They'll be okay.
I think?
Why does the stupid Gibbous Rite have to happen on my birthday?
What am I gonna do if my parents aren't here to perform it?
I'm gonna be a baby witch forever.
Wait.
What if...
"Stunts all forms of growth..."
Well, if it was always my 15th birthday,
then I could just wait till Mum and Pop get back.
Whenever that is.
Well, what's the worst that could happen?
Adulthood's just a bunch of chores
and small talk anyway...
I presume.
Down the hatch.
You know, actually, now that I think about it,
it's probably not so bad growing up.
I've heard a lot of good things about spooning --
collecting antique spoons from your travels, that is.
Mildred.
Sorry about that That wasn't supposed to happen.
Guess I don't always know my own strength.
At least it's not poison smoke like last time.
Hey, maybe after my own Gibbous Rite,
my powers will mellow out a bit.
You know, mature. You know what I mea--
Mildred! What are you doing? You're ruining all my things!
Get off, get off!
Sorry. Geez.
I just wanted to help you get ready.
Here, I'll put it all back.
No, wait! Boop.
Whoops.
You!
It wasn't my fault.
It's always your fault!
Don't be mean to me, Susie,
or I'll tell Mum and Pop when they get back.
They're not coming back.
They might not ever come back. Because of you!
If you could've ever just learned to be a pinch reserved,
we'd all be in the moors right now.
Instead, our parents are lost in the frozen north
getting you a potion,
you're an uncontrollable child witch,
and I'm an immortal hot corn girl.
What? Knock, knock.
Everything okay up here?
I heard an explosion, or as I call it, a "Mildred."
Then I smelled some Mildred in the air
so I thought the house was Mildreding down.
Here. Read it yourself.
Alright, alright. Now, that's enough of that.
Now, clean up this mess, Mildred, and you come with me.
Now, what is this all about, Susie?
What's gotten into you?
Oh.
They're not coming.
My parents. That's what the letter said.
And now my things are all broken and my brooch is a frog
and now I'll never be a witch.
Susie. Hey.
Is that all?
Listen, you don't need any of that stuff
for a Gibbous Rite.
Get with the times, girl.
My friend Iris did mine in a ranky loo stall
while we were hiding out from some Canterbury bobbies.
My parents don't even know about it.
In fact, we've got everything we need right upstairs.
Come on. I'll show you.
And with this ritual chalice,
I mean with this, uh, "Candied Man,"
we affirm the sacred wheel.
And now, to complete the ritual.
A star for my star.
Bright, bold, and steadfast.
A queen among ornaments.
Or witches. Either way.
Congratulations. You're a full witch woman,
part of the history of witchcraft now and forever.
Forever.
Let's celebrate.
Ooh, do you know what? There's one more thing
that would make this even more special.
Come on.
What? I don't get it? Where's the thing?
Well, why don't you open up and you'll see.
But Mildred's in th-- Oh, I get it.
Fine.
Whelp, this can't be good.
But I don't want everyone in London
to hear about my special box.