A risky magickal personal ad.
Cost: 1 minor charge.
Ritual Action: Buy the soundtrack to Disney’s Pinocchio. Has to be the original LP, but that isn’t hard to find on eBay. A CD or cassette will work if you bought it from the Disney store, but they don’t stock it anymore. Dress up as Geppetto, from the Disney movie. Only a commercial costume modeled after the Disney movie will work; the pre-packaged halloween costume is best, but at least buy Simplicity pattern #8334 (again, both are out of production, but not elusive second-hand). Note that you have to purchase the disk and the costume from someone you don’t know personally. If you borrow them, steal them, or even buy them from a friend, the ritual won’t work.
Write down four things:
—Who you are (this doesn’t have to be your name, but it must be a descriptor that more or less singles you out and that most of your friends would recognize you by).
—Where you live (this must be somewhere you can be found at least one third of the time, not an ad hoc meeting place. If you don’t have a permanent residence, tough.).
—Something you want (this must specific; “I want to get married.” or “I need a bodyguard.” work. “Can someone do me a favor?” or “I want revenge.” don’t.).
—Something you’re willing to give in return (once again, has to be specific).
Each of these has to be a single complete, grammatically correct, non-run-on sentence. Write all of these on the sticker in the center of the record and on Geppetto’s big, paper moustache (if you use the Simplicity pattern, cut the moustache out of the record’s slip cover).
Wait for a clear night. When it comes, don’t look at the sky until midnight (weather forecasts are useful for making sure the sky is clear without looking at it). At midnight, take your turntable and speakers to an outdoor public place, such as a park or a sidewalk. The area just outside your front door works best. You’ll have to find a place to plug your turntable in; in a worst case scenario, use an extension chord. Put on “When You Wish upon a Star” with the volume at full blast. Look up, and don’t take your eyes off the first star you see. If you’ve seen a single star that night before this point, the ritual won’t work. Sing along with the song; you don’t have to sing well, but put some feeling into it. Without taking your eyes off the star, stop the record the second the song ends. An instant beforehand and the ritual won’t work, but for the love of God, don’t let “Little Wooden Head” start. Take the record off the turntable. Keep looking at that star! Throw the record like a Frisbee, making sure it doesn’t break when it lands (this will take practice). Look away from the star. Walk back inside, and make sure you don’t see the record or the sky until morning. If something or someone unbeknownst to you breaks or removes the record before dawn, the ritual succeeds.
Effect: If successful, this ritual broadcasts what you wrote on the record and the moustache to everyone magickal within a number of miles equal to the ones’ place of the roll. This includes adepts, avatars, anyone who knows two or more rituals, anyone who can use tilts, demons on this side of the veil and all unnatural creatures. How the recipients respond is up to them. The ritual does not bind respondents to obey your terms or refrain from killing you.
Heh. Sounds like the metaphysical equivalent of some new guy coming into a chat room and requesting something either really basic or totally out of reach, the first making him appear stupid and the second one making him appear greedy and demanding.
And he does it with CAPS LOCK STUCK ON.
Thanks. That’s what I was going for.
This is an awesome ritual.
It’s a great way to get yourself killed, but kind of a charming way to establish yourself in the local Occult Underground.
And if you’re the Bad Man, it’s a lovely way to advertise.