In the Magicky World of Wizz-Wu, under the shadow of the Levitating Mountains, between the Sortilegium River and the Forests of Trismegistus, lived a daydreaming boy named Bricklebrack.

Bricklebrak never told anyone his dreams. Not his mom, not his best friend, the enchanted hot water bottle that Bricklebrak had named “Wubby” but which preferred “Salvitore”, and definitely not his father.

But then, one autumn day, with flocks of unicorn-pegasuses flying south overhead, the Sky Sweeper Fleet cackling as they flew about on their brooms, zapping the horse poop before it could fall on the citizens below, and the marzipan grass turning brown and the jack-o-lantern patches ready to burst, a knock sounded on the front door of Bricklebrak’s backwards/upside down house.

Bricklebrak opened the door, and the old man on the other side introduced himself as Mister Goodersnoot and waved his hands about in a magical manner that was their form of a handshake. BrickleBrak returned the greeting and offered to enchant the dishware to make tea. “No, my boy,” replied Goodersnoot. “I’m here to fulfill your dream”.

“Oh, no thank you, sir, but we already have a set of dancing encyclopedias”, the polite boy replied as he pointed at the books tweking on the shelves on the other side of the room.

“I’m not an encyclopedia salesman!” Goodersnoot said, far less politely than the boy. “I’m the headmaster for a very special school”.

“But I’m not special,” said the boy because he lacked self-confidence, the self-confidence that he would have to find in order to defeat the evil forces that would slowly build until he could no longer avoid them and all hope seemed to be lost, but that would not occur for some pages yet.

“Of course you are! Why else would we have a special school for people like you? Why else would we have a school for NORMAL PEOPLE?” Bricklebrak’s eyes grew wide. Could it be? Could he actual be normal?

“You have a school for Normal People?”

“Oh, yes! You’ll learn many things my boy! How to do laundry, brushing your teeth twice a day, balancing a checkbook, compound interest, actuarial tables, how to darn a pair of socks, pickling and canning, heat transfer and thermal dynamics, tire changing, and cooking,” the old man said, his eyes aglow.

“Cooking!?” The boy’s voice cracked. The old man chuckled.

“Indeed! Normal People can’t just eat candy and sweets like the rest of the magicians, we have to eat Normal Food.”

“Even,” Bricklebrak hesitated, swallowed hard. If he put his secret dream into words, it could die right there, unfulfilled, but if he said it, if it were true….”Even… Broccoli?”

The old man leaned in, narrowed his eyes, nodded slowly and added in almost a whisper, “Even broccoli”.