Spelling Mistake (Patreon)

He almost throws the book across the room in frustration. Almost. Even if the spells are worthless it's still an expensive antique that he spent a lot of money on. Too much, it appears. He takes a deep sigh and composes himself. This is a letdown, sure, but did he really think he could just magic farmhands and pool boys and gogo dancers out of thin air at a whim? It was a hot fantasy, but that's all that it was. He looks at the blood on the floor and on his hands and suddenly feels disgusted. Those cocks died for nothing. It's not like he knows how to pluck and cook them. That's not why he feels disgusted. The blood is sticky and he hates how it feels. Three times he tried the "studly worker to tend to all caster's needs" page in the book. Perhaps wash up, have a swim, and something for lunch? He grabs a towel and use it to open the patio door without smearing more blood on things. Then he freezes and just stares a the three studly workers by the poolside, waiting to be told what needs he needed tending.