My little present to  Kikatsu featuring his character Rica.

Rica had always had a fascination with stories about witches and magic-makers, if only to compare accounts of their power to her own. She was happy to report that her own abilities, by her opinion, dwarfed any other fabled sorceress, Enchantress or White Witch SHE had heard of. Though there had always been one particular tale that never failed to fascinate her. It was an old Germanic story about a witch who could entrance children with some sort of magic woven into her dwelling. While Rica's own power was nearly all-encompassing, influence over the mind had always escaped her. But if this tale had even a whiff of truth to it, the potent umbramancer would seek it out. It had taken her months to finally track down the reality behind the story, and after a little digging and a lot of violence, Rica had the desiccated spellbook of a long-dead witch in her hands.
Translating it from old Lutheran dialect was the real challenge, as a few of the terms were a little confusing, words that Rica wasn't familiar with, but the basic spell seemed like an easy to understand enchantment. Rica felt her own mastery of the thamaturgical arts had allowed her to grasp it swiftly.
The plan to test it out was simple. She'd order a few of her lackeys to bust up a jewellery store and wait for someone to notice while she cast the enchantment on herself. Any police would be instantly fascinated by her, slaves to her whim as she could compel them to do whatever she wished, and if she was lucky, Snowplow himself might show up and finally be within her clutches. For who could resist this entrancing power of....”Pfefferkuchen” Whatever that was.

It was only as the security alarm filled the night air and Rica sensed her woven magic settle over her shoulders that she felt the shadow of a doubt. For some reason, the charm rested on her shoulders like a fine, sweet-smelling powder. As soon as it made contact, the affected areas felt...sticky. That stickiness permeated her form, dripping down through her coat, fur and skin. Within seconds her entire body felt as though it had been saturated in molasses. With the viscous sensation came an appropriate stiffness of movement. Rica felt her joints seize up as she tried to rise from her slumping position against the wall of the alley, her arms snapping to her sides and her back suddenly growing ramrod straight. Rica opened her mouth to call out for her cronies, only to taste her mouth full of an almost unbearably sweet mass of goo. She attempted to force one of her hands up to her face to wipe it away, finally seeing her digits. First of all, they were a deep brown. And much more alarmingly, the were a great deal flatter than she remembered. She watched her wriggling fingers fuse together into a single, mitten-like appendage barely two inches in depth as it was forced back down against her side. Her enter body was flattening, condensing down to nearly two-dimensions as the trim of her clothing began to puff up into a porous sugary mass while other details shrank down into hard sweets against the bready, sweet surface of her body.

Her shadow danced around her in a panic, attempting to pull at her body and fix her reducing dimensions, to no avail. Technically she was still the same size and shape, just a different substance and nearly bereft of a third dimension, which the already flat shadow could do little to influence. She finally felt her knees draw under her and lock into position, signalling the end of her mobility. Rica fumed, the sheer rage emanating from with in her managing to turn the two dots of icing that had replaced her eyes into a bright red. She lay there, leaning against the wall, motionless and helpless. The infernal sticky sensation permeating her body hadn't faded at all as her backside took on a pourous, spongy look. From her limited perspective, Rica could see that every major detail of her wardrobe and face had been rendered into colourful sugary fluff that was beginning to congeal across the front of her body.
Somewhere around the corner, there was the sound of conflict and scuffling. Someone had come to break up the robbery, and all the obscenely powerful demigoddess could do was remain where she was, inert and trembling with impotent rage.
Rica quivered internally. Even though her skirt had been rendered in confectionery facsimile by the change, she felt practically naked. All of that brown, baked cookie she was made of seemed like exposed flesh, and she couldn't even twist against the chilly air sweeping across her body.
The noise of struggle died down, and a short figure rounded the corner.
Of course. If this humiliation wasn't enough, it hadn't even been Snowplow to break up her robbery, but that odious little gremlin, Elastodile. He ambled up to the petrified witch, and to her great horror, lit up with a toothy smile.
“Cool, big cookie!” the hero exclaimed, his head spiralling forward on the end of an elongated neck to take a large bite out of her side. Rica winced at the sensation, which seemed almost...ticklish, in spite of herself.
Elastodile 's head snapped back into position, chewing ponderously on the lump of spicy confectionery before swallowing.
“Ah nuts” he sighed “This probably belongs to somebody” He began to waddle away, calling out to anyone who would listen.
“Hello! Did someone leave a big, angry looking cookie here! I found it! Can I at least have a little milk!”
Rica desperately tried to summon whatever residual magic hadn't been sucked into her doughy form. She had to get out of here before anyone else found her.
Or worse, if that simpleton actually came back with that milk he had threatened.....