Thomas Kinkade The Night Before Christmas

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thought you’d say that.”
“We don’t want the world. Just this little kingdom will do. And we will take it, whether it wants us or not.”
“Over my dead body, madam.”
“If that is a condition.”
The Queen lashed out mentally, like a cat.
Granny Weatherwax winced, and leaned backward for a moment.
“Madam?”
“Yes?” said the Queen.
“There aren’t see where it led. So I had to learn. All my life. The hard way. And the hard way’s pretty hard, but not so hard as the easy way. I learned. From the trolls and the dwarfs and from peo-ple. Even from pebbles.”
The Queen lowered her voice.
“You will not be killed,” she whispered. “I promise you that. You’ll be left alive, to dribble and gibber and soil your-self and wander from door to door for scraps. And they’ll say: there goes the mad old any rules, are there?”“Rules? What are rules?” said the Queen.“I thought so,” said Granny. “Gytha Ogg?”Nanny managed to turn her head.“Yes, Esme?”“My box. You know. The one in the dresser. You’ll know what to do.”Granny Weatherwax smiled. The Queen swayed side-ways, as if she’d been slapped.“You have learned,” she said.“Oh, yes. You know I never entered your circle. I could woman.”
“They say that now,” said Granny Weatherwax. “They think I can’t hear.”