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Verecundus threw himself into his uncle's parlor, sweating and spewing words that - had his mother been alive - would have been his last. He threw a mauve cushioned stool toward the bookcase, shattering the glass and books catapulted about the room. Still screaming, he reached for another stool when a small green bottle caught his eye, sitting unharmed at the back of the bookcase. He snatched it up and, breathless, read the inconspicuous label: "Large. Winged. Potion." Suddenly, Verecundus felt no need to wait for his approaching punishment and laughing wickedly, downed every last drop.
Whew, barely got this one in! Five Sentence Fiction through Lillie McFerrin. You know you want to do this. :)