You blink rapidly as the bag is pulled from your head. The last thing you remember, you were at home watching TV on your couch when black-robed intruders burst into your apartment and knocked you unconscious. As your eyes adjust to your new surroundings, you find yourself in the center of a pentagram ringed by chairs.

A coven of witches stare at you inscrutably, each one young, attractive and buxom. After a moment, one of them finally speaks. "Hello, Anon," the leader intones dramatically. "We have gathered you here against our will, but we have need of your assistance. For centuries, we of the Circle, the Watchers from the Woods, Satan's Brides, the-"

"Get on with it!" yells one of the others.

The leader sighs irritably. "Fine. Look, Anon. We need your help. We look young, but most of us are hundreds of years old, and we have no ungodly idea how half your modern crap works. We can't get the VCR to stop blinking midnight, and Sister Cynthia keeps asking for something called a 'Why-Fie' password, but it doesn't show up in the Book of Eternal Darkness.

"So what we're asking is, can you teach us? Jeanne made cookies, if that's your thing. Or we could wield our cosmic power to grant your whims. Whatever. Just help me get this 'Eye-Pad' working."