Chapter One: The Smell of Magic Fruits
It's midnight. It's a dense forest. And it's a boy seemingly lost in the dim moonlight and fearfully surrounded by wolves crying and scaring with elan. If we take a closer look, the boy, a 10-year-old Indian, is standing between bushes and frequently turning around like a weathercock--trying to shout down and scare back the beasts by uttering out loud, 'Don't come any nearer or else I'll make you suffer--suffer for ever. Yes! What do you take me for? A weak innocent boy? No, never! I'm a magician par excellence. My nickname is Mag B. Do you follow me, brutes?'
The brutes can't understand anything or see the impending danger, and start moving further forward towards their prey. In no time does the boy puts his hands into his pockets and keeps taking out odd-looking red fruits and throwing them at the wolves while saying, 'You sods! Smell and melt! Abracadabra! Giligili-hoos!' How surprising! Unbelievable! Mesmerising! In the twinkling of an eye, as soon as they smell the fruits, they literally melt into blobs of greasy liquid.
Chapter Two: The Astonishing Crash
Following this, the wonder boy Mag B punches the air in triumph and screams, 'Ha-hooh! I'm the greatest magician on earth. No peers and no fears! I AM the one and only. . ..' Again he utters 'ha-hoo', claps thrice, and, lo, changes into a largish brown owl, only to fly off over the gigantic Banyan tree majestically standing yonder. Ah me! What's this? With a great crash falls the king-tree of the forest immediately, thus leaving hundreds of birds and beasts fatally wounded or killed. No storm! No earthquake! What IS this? What's this for? Again the boastful voice is heard coming from afar--'Ha-hoo! I'm the greatest magician on earth.' The tone and pitch of the devilish proclamation send shivers down the spine of the entire land. A defeaning silence follows. Let's get away as soon as possible.