Grams: Well, what are you waiting for? Just write a spell. Get rid of him.
Phoebe: Uh, get rid of him?
Grams: Well, you know what I mean. Dump him somewhere. Anywhere. With all the witches in this room, we oughta be able to do something with him. I mean, just start rhyming. Uh, take him back, take him away. Remove him now. Don’t let him stay.