Mike the Midget Monk's Managerial Moment

Just as I started thinking to myself that yes, this was the end, I was going to die of asphyxiation in a pile of ever growing blonde hair, which wasn't exactly what I'd had planned but all in all wasn't a bad way to go, and as a result of this thought process had started to relax a little and enjoy the relatively soft and billowy nature of my pending death, yes, just as I had that thought and its subsequent action, the hair around me flew aside, and instead of dying I took in a gasp of fresh air and stood up. Rapidly disappearing down the road away from me/Melvin was a long stream of blonde hair, at the end of which I could just see the warrior girl's body being dragged along by its feet by none other than the midget monk, running away from us at a fairly steady pace.
"Wha... where is he going?!?" I gasped, not quite at the point of being grateful for my life just being saved, and instead simply confused as to the pace and direction of my cook.
"Well," Melvin mused, "I presume he's off to the nearest large town to make some money off that impressively sustainable crop of hair. Natural wigs are very expensive, you know; most people have to make do with horsehair, or in the case of my Uncle Thagspick, the sweepings from the floor of their barn glued to their head with very sticky honey."
"Bu.. we needed him!" I cried, still not quite in that place where I could appreciate the situation in its fullness.
"Well, yes, but really he was only ever an incidental plot device." Melvin said. "Plus, the thinning of one's magical band is almost a prerequisite in these narratives. And seeing as he has left his jars behind, you have almost everything you need to complete your final spell and become a fully fledged magician, providing a successful resolution to your predicament, and also, by implication, mine, seeing as once we are done here we can go back to my place, keep my body warm, let out my cat, and drink tea whilst reminiscing about our adventures."
"Well... I... He...!" I spluttered, not really having anything more to say but wanting all the same to keep up my bluster.
"Yes, yes, OK, it was a stressful situation, but you're alive now and you're grateful for that. Anyway, let's have a look at that spell of yours and see how we're doing." Melvin said, reaching into my pocket with his hand (a strange feeling to be sure!) and pulling out Myron's manual.
Looking down the list, it was clear Melvin's spinach-based spell had come in rather handy. In fact, it had gathered for us every ingredient we needed, bar the final one.
"Ooh..." Melvin murmured in a low tone as he looked at the final line in the list.
"Well, what is it?" I inquired, trying to look past Melvin's head at the list, which for some reason he was reading out over my shoulder so I couldn't see it.
He brought his arm around so I could see.
"Life Of Spell Caster" I read aloud in a stunned voice. "Well... surely that doesn't mean... um... WHAT?!?!"
"Sorry mate." Melvin replied, "It's the classic story predicament right there. Die finishing the mission, or live on as a failure. Good luck deciding that one."

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