Sophia: No, the Curse of the Strega. It was a curse laid on you by Lena Pascerelli, our village witch.
Dorothy: What village? I was born in Brooklyn.
Sophia: Here's a news flash, witches can fly.
Dorothy: Why did she curse me?
Sophia: I don't know. Maybe because you gave her the cold that eventually killed her. The point is, on her deathbed she laid a curse on you. "Beware the leap year's full moon."
Dorothy: That's it? That's the curse?
Sophia: What'd you expect, poetry? The woman was on her deathbed. Give her a break. So, now there are three tasks I must perform before tomorrow's moon rise. Or you are doomed.
Dorothy: And the three tasks are?
Sophia: Kiss a fool, help a holy man, reveal betrayal of a loved one.