Synopsis: Lost, a pair of faerie wings

I am a fairy godmother, careful there, not a Fairy Godmother but a fairy godmother, no capitals. I lost my rights to the capitals one dark night of december, might even have been on the twenty fifth at that, I am pretty sure I'd be stupid enough to have lost my powers on the day the mortals celebrate the birth of their so called savior. Not that they only have one. Or that I lost, lost, my powers. In a fit of crazyness, I just wished them away on some unsuspecting mortal girl I bumped into while drunk. Fairies should not get drunk. They do stupid, reckless and humiliating things drunk. And me and my room mates, well, we are the perfect example of the following, and fondamental, truth: FAIRIES SHOULD NOT GET DRUNK. EVER. Not even slightly inebriated.
Actually, if you do think about it, fairies should not drink, period.

Why is that so bad you ask? Well, to fairies, losing (or misplacing as I would rather refer to that particular situation) your powers is akin to losing (or misplacing) your keys. To your home, car, bank account, whatever needs a key, if you do not have your powers, you are locked out. And no one, no one, not even your bestest friend in the whole wide magic world, your all powerful room mate, or perish the thought, your mother, can get you back inside. You have to get your powers back first. How? It does not say in the manual. You just have to get them back, and you will be allowed in. But as long as you are going without, you are stuck in mortal land, rooming with two stupid female werecat who had their fur stolen and a dwarve looking for his hammer. Or a wolf stuck on the wall of your bathroom, but that is still a mystery to me, and believe me, we ALL tried to discover how that poor sod ended up there, with no avail.