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"It has been a long day at the office, and you are taking a break by going through your email. You find an email from a friend you haven’t heard from in a long time. You were both serious Harry Potter fans, and she claims that the attachment is a genuine spell from Hogwarts’ restricted dark arts grimoire. She warns you that reading it out loud could release powerful magic. You’re delighted, thinking she’s playing a game, so you open the attachment and start to read the text: “Hmmmm. Hotfoot. For y*ung witches who are too stubborn and need to be controlled. Wave your wand like you’re striking a match, point, and say....”

You pause, considering your friend’s warning. Then you look at your feet and say:

“Inflagrante pedi!”

It doesn’t work. You take out the old Harry Potter wand you used to play with, considering. Then you say, “Well, what’s the worst that can happen? I get a hotfoot just like I did at the Christmas party last year.”

You the wand and strike it like a match, pointing it directly at your toes:

“Inflagrante pedi!”

Nothing happens, so you laugh at the memory of your games and put the wand down. You give a nostalgic sigh and return to your work.

As you work, you begin to feel a strange sensation. Your toes grow unaccountably hot. The camera pans down from your face to your feet under the desk. You are still in your heels, but we can see that you pick up your right foot and shake it a l*ttle to cool it off. Then you do the same with your left. The camera travels back up to your face as you become more aware of the feeling in your feet. They aren’t TRULY hot yet, just like being barefoot on a hot parking lot in the middle of summer. You look with puzzlement at your feet, thinking out loud, “What’s going on? Why are my feet getting so hot?”

The camera pulls back to capture your full body as you swivel your chair out, picking up your feet one after another (your heels are still on) as you say, “Ooo....owww....hey, why are my feet so...OW!”

The last “OW” takes you out of the chair and into a standing position where you pick up your feet one at a time, still somewhat slow, a l*ttle awkward as you are in your heels, and you need to use your arms to balance. There is a slight grimace on your face, but it still only feels like super hot s*nd on a tropical beach. You keep on saying, “Woooo....oo, my toes are a l*ttle hot. Oo, oooooh, is someone playing a trick on me...?”

You begin to pick your knees up a l*ttle higher, and you look around with growing desperation, asking, “Is there a hidden camera here or something? Because I think—oo, ouch, ow, ow—I think I’m getting a hotfoot....”

Your “oos” and “ows” are getting shorter and more clipped as your feet get hotter. It now feels a l*ttle like there’s a fire under your feet, and you need to pick them up fast and high to avoid getting scorched. The desperation in your voice mounts, taking you up a bit in pitch as you say, “Um, yeah, so, I’m definitely getting a hotfoot, so I don’t know how you did this, but if you could please MAKE IT STOP, I would be your FRIEND FOR LIFE and—ow-woo-oo-oooo—how are you doing this? How....ah! Ah! Ah! Oooo! Oh!” You suddenly come to a realization: “Hah! The shoes! It must be the shoes! Oooo, get me out of these! Ow! Oo! Oo!”

You slip off your heels, revealing your feet in your sheer pantyhose. It’s clear from your perfect pedicure, shiny toe ring, an ankle bracelet that your feet are loved and—more important still—highly sensitive.

Your heels now dangle from the fingers of one hand, but taking off the shoes didn’t work. It feels like all ten of your toes are on fire. Holding the shoes in one hand while you hold the other hand in the air, you hop frantically from foot to foot, as if you were barefoot on top of a red hot skillet: “Ow! Oo! Ow! Oo! Hot! Hot! Hot!”

At this point, you go into full-scale panic. You dance around in a l*ttle circle, trying to grab one foot with your free hand. You manage to grab the tips of your toes with the tips of your fingers. Then you drop the shoes, seizing the other foot with both hands and saying, “Ooooooo! Ah! Hotfoot! Hotfoot! Oo, I’ve got a HOTFOOT!!!”

From here, you begin hopping around the room, no longer trying to hold your feet but hopping first on one foot, then the other. Your reaction is cute, even sexy, with l*ttle feminine cries of, “Ouch ouch ooch ouch hot hot HOT!” in high-pitched yelps and squeals. That is interspersed with “Oo my toes! Oo oo oo! Hot toes! Hot toes! Oo! Oh! What is HAPPENING...?”

As you dance around, your eyes go to the wand, and you suddenly have an insight. “Oh my G*d, the Dark Arts!”

Hopping madly about, you grab the wand and begin trying to search the attachment for a clue to end the spell. Your toes are so hot you’re not sure if the red glow is your pedicure in the office light or the hotfoot spell melting through your nylons. At any rate, you can’t find anything, so you try stuff like:

“Hofootus Stoppus!”

Doesn’t work: “Oooo! Ow ow ow!” (Bl*wing on your toes)

“Tootsies frigidus!”

Nope: “OwwwWWWOOOOOOO! Why MEEEEE!” while hopping in a circle with your eyes closed, head tilted back, flailing your hands in the air.

That sort of thing.

Finally, as nothing works, you get one desperate idea: “Oo! Ow! Hot hot hot hot hot hot HOT! Oo!
Water! WATER!”

Your bottled water is on the desk. You open it and pour it over your toes. Relief immediately sweeps over you as you let out a great sigh: “Ahhhhhhhhh!” And then, “Oooooooooo!” You breathe hard twice, and then “Hohh G*d. Oh, my G*d.” The relief is so immense that it sounds like the after-effects of a giant *rgasm. You continue: “Ooooo, my toes! Wow!” You have to shake your head to clear it, and then: “What a hotfoot!”

Your eyes go to your phone. You pick it up and c*ll your friend. “Rae? Yeah, it’s me, Liv. You know that spell you sent me?” A smile spreads across your face, “How can I try that on my boss...?"

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Hotfoot Hocus Pocus (4K)