To weaken the vicious
Write the name of the vicious one on strips of paper using green and black ink mixed together (use a multiple of 3). Fold each strip in half with the name on the inside.
Pierce each strip with a nail, being sure to go through the name.
Place the nails in an old, cheaply made pot. Cover with vinegar and bring to a boil. Boil for 9 minutes.
Set the pot in a dark, hot place and leave it to corrode.
To foil a hypocrite
Gather printed evidence of hypocrisy: divide these into piles, one for each side of conflicting statements or actions.
Take clay and mold a human-shaped figure around each pile of paper.
Under a new moon, gather the clay dolls and mash them together. Wind the heads together, then split them lengthwise with a pencil or the side of a ruler, as if splitting with an axe. Wrap the arms around each other, sticking the "hands" of each doll to the other side. Wind the legs together and bind with red string.
Drop the smashed-together dolls on the ground and kick them into the corner of a fence. Wedge a stone in front to keep them from moving.
Leave outside to weather away. If no rain is called for, collect dirty water from washing dishes and throw this over the dolls every few days. Every time you do this (or after rain), watch closely and observe how the clay degrades and the papers are exposed and weathered.
To expose the wicked
Find a small, dark, jagged stone. Write on it, in black marker, the name of the wicked one over and over, overlapping.
Make a hole in the root end of an onion with a knife. Shove the small stone up inside the onion. Let the effort this takes focus your intent.
Wrap the onion tightly in plastic wrap and set aside for at least 3 days.
Take the onion outside into bright sun. Unwrap the plastic. Peel the skin off the onion. Remove the onion layers, one at a time, until the stone is exposed. Hold the stone in the palm of your hand, in the sun, for 9 breaths. Leave the onion guts outside to rot.
Keep the stone in a place where it will spend much time in the sun, or throw it into clean, brightly lit running water.
Virginia M Mohlere owns too many fountain pens and heckles her members of Congress on Twitter. She fills her notebooks with scratch paper, which is totally confusing when she uses old drafts of her own work. She talks to trees. Sometimes they answer. Her work has been seen in Cicada, Mythic Delirium, Strange Horizons, and Through the Gate, among others.