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DM of
Oz 2 Episode 9 written by Gerry Original air date: |
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Disclaimer: The characters in the following fan
fiction do not belong to me. They belong to CBS and Viacom and other powers
that be. I am only using them for the purpose of writing this story. No money
is being made from this writing it is for entertainment purposes only. And
now on with the show... "DM of OZ-Part
2" by Gerry Cheryl the Good Witch
jumped as her Magic Mirror twitched and grunted at her. "Can't you just
shimmer into the picture without the sound effects?" she grumbled.
"It's not like I need to have a conversation with you, I know I'm
beautiful." The mirror scowled.
"You never let me have any fun." It darkened, threatening to blur
itself, and she relented. "Okay. Show me and
then I'll let you amuse yourself watching those skuzzy little flying
rodents." Its good humor restored,
the mirror brightened. "Oh, good. Maybe she'll change them into
something even more obnoxious. Here. Your little tourist is in trouble." Cheryl blinked at the
scene of sleeping girl, dog and lion, then again at the sight of the Woodman
and the Scarecrow playing scissors-rock-paper with each other. "Sheesh.
I don't even want to know what they've been doing." She considered a
moment and muttered some tinkly-sounding words, wincing at the blatant
sappiness of the spell and mentally reminding herself to order a more modern
spell book, then blew the sparkles that had magically appeared on her
fingertips into the mirror. The mirror sneezed, but shimmered again obligingly,
and showed a new scene. * * * * * * Steve blinked at the tiny
gold sprinkles which had appeared out of nowhere and were threatening to coat
everything in sight. He held his finger up to his nose and focused, trying to
keep his eyes from crossing. It wasn't ... no, it couldn't be --- "Pixie
dust???!!!!??" roared the long-suffering Woodman. "In Oz???" The combination of little
twitchy sprinkles on her face and the yelling, getting louder by the minute,
woke Amanda from a very strange dream. She had been dreaming about Steve
Sloan playing the Tin Woodman --- oh, no. She rubbed her eyes and looked
again. If it was a dream, she was still in it. And Mark was still stuffed
with straw, and Jesse furry and fuzzy, and a small pink tongue belonging to a
small hairy dog was licking her hand, and there was that damn orange road.
She sighed, and rose to try to calm Steve down before he started foaming at
the mouth and rusting, and was distracted by the sound of ethereal voices. "You're out of the
dark, you're out of the woods, you're out of our spell ... You're an interfering
bitch, we hope you go to h---" "Hey!" Steve
yelled. "Watch it! This is a family show!" Amanda blinked and rubbed
her eyes again. The flowers had ... faces? And were singing? Wait a minute,
she thought, wasn't that another story altogether? This was too much, she
decided, and firmly gathered her little group together. Time to hit the road
and work on getting the heck out of Oz. Act II, Scene Two The doughty band of
adventurers had, by tacit agreement, decided not to discuss the origin or the
nature of the pixie dust, although Steve was still emitting the occasional
whistling sound of disapproval through the funnel of his hat. Amanda decided
not to remind him of a popular cartoon character from her childhood, and
trudged along, her original optimism about their endeavor suffering
considerably from the length of their journey. She was ready to reach the It may not have been the
deep green of emerald, but the "Two-foot high
fence?" Amanda blurted incredulously. The guard standing behind
the fence stared at her. "What were you expecting? A moat and
drawbridge?" He scratched his ribs idly. "It doesn't matter how
high the wall is; if I don't want to let you in, you're not going to get
in." And she had thought the
original Gatekeeper had an attitude! She was tired, hungry, and she was
starting to seriously lose patience with this incarnation of Oz. "You're
a fine representative of the City!" Amanda scolded. "Don't you
realize that you're the first contact a traveler has? What are strangers likely
to think?" His green eyes still
regarded her blankly. "Hey, lady, I don't make the rules." "Then you won't care
if we break them ... or this fence," Steve interjected, his patience
even thinner than Amanda's. He ran a finger slowly down the edge of his axe,
apparently not concerned about the ghastly screech of metal against metal. The guard winced.
"Okay, okay. I'll open the door. Just quit doing that." This wasn't right either.
Amanda started to object, then thought better of it. Who cared about accuracy
if the annoying little man was willing to let them in? She smiled kindly at
the hapless guard and swept by him as he motioned them inside, and stood for
a moment happily contemplating the sights around her. Then the business at
hand reasserted itself. "We're here to see the Magus," she informed
the guard loftily, and directed his gaze to her shoes, fully expecting the
royal reception to begin. The guard started to
shrug, then changed his mind when he noticed Steve's hand start to close on
the axe blade. "Oh, yeah, right." He stuck two fingers in his mouth
and emitted a piercing whistle which produced electrifying results as doors
everywhere opened and people started rushing madly about. Finally the melee
sorted itself out, and the little band of travelers was borne off to the main
part of the City to be made presentable for their audience with the Magus. Act II, Scene Three Fed, rested and cleaned
up, Amanda and her companions were escorted by their various Peridotean
helpers to the Magus' hall, where the city dwellers wished the newcomers luck
and scooted away before Amanda could protest. She glanced at her fellow
travelers, then squared her shoulders and yanked the door open. "Come
on. He's obviously here somewhere." Jesse looked around
fearfully, clutching his tail and trying not to shove the end in his mouth as
they advanced down a long and very dimly lit hall. He began humming to
himself, making an effort to avoid putting too many r's in "forest"
so as to avoid attracting undue attention. Amanda grabbed his arm and smiled
at him, although she wasn't sure who was reassuring whom. Next to her, Steve,
his eyes darting around suspiciously, kept plodding forward, one hand
supporting Mark, who seemed to be more wobbly-legged than usual. The only one
who seemed unimpressed by the overly dramatic scene was the little dog, who
prowled here and there in his mistress' wake. They reached the end of
the hall, where no new door or any sign of ingress or egress could be seen.
"Now what?" Steve asked testily. And jumped with a squeal of joints
as a new voice suddenly and loudly made itself heard. "WHO ARE YOU, WHO
DARE TO FACE THE GREAT AND POWERFUL M?" Something about the voice
sounded familiar, but the volume created too much distortion for Amanda to
put her finger on it. "We ... I ... we seek your help, sir," she
managed, hoping her own voice wasn't shaking. There was a pause, then
the voice spoke again. "YOU LOOK LIKE A SMART AND COMPETENT YOUNG WOMAN.
FOR WHAT POSSIBLE REASON COULD YOU REQUIRE MY ASSISTANCE?" They eyed each other, wondering
who was going to go first. Mark and Steve actually started
rock-paper-scissors, subsiding only when Amanda glared at them. Finally, she
spoke up. "I have a request for myself and one for another who could not
travel." When the voice did not interrupt, she continued, encouraged.
"I arrived here by accident and need help getting home ..." "HOME? YOU CAN'T FIND
YOUR WAY HOME, GIRL? DO I LOOK LIKE A TRAFFIC COP?" Unexpectedly, Mark spoke
up, his normally gentle tone sharp. "You don't look like anything ... we
can't see you. And that's not a very nice way to speak to a stranger who's
traveled so far in a strange land." "REALLY? AND WHAT IS
IT YOU'RE AFTER, STRAW MAN? LET ME GUESS ... A BRAIN, RIGHT?" Mark blinked, startled,
but the voice went on. "AND THE METAL BOZO
WANTS A HEART SO HE CAN CRY HIMSELF TO RUST AGAIN? AND ... IS THAT SCRUFFY
BEAST THERE REALLY A LION? I BET YOU'RE LOOKING FOR NERVE?? HA HA HA
HA!" The laughter stopped abruptly. "GET OUT OF HERE AND DON'T
WASTE MY TIME!" Amanda grabbed her shrinking
companions before they turned tail and fled. "Wait a minute! I'm not
finished!" The silence was telling,
but at least the voice wasn't yelling at her any more. She took a deep
breath. "The Oldest Tree wants you to reclaim his limb from the Wicked Witch
of the West." "He What?" The
Magus sounded unnerved, particularly since he had gone from speaking in all
caps to initial caps only. Amanda repeated the tree's
message, and asked, "Does that mean something?" "Hmmm. Maybe. I
Wonder What That Old B - I Mean Witch ... Is Up To Now." The Magus' ruminations
were suddenly interrupted by a great commotion outside, where people were
running madly in all directions, babbling and pointing at the sky. The
travelers ran out to see for themselves, and Amanda gasped as she saw the
tell-tale smoke from the Witch's frenzied flight. "Surenter
What's-Her-Name the mudderer ..." Jesse read, craning his neck.
"Who's What's-Her-Name? And what does surenter mean?" "I think it's
supposed to be *surrender*" Amanda said coldly. "I've had enough of
this. I'm not a mudderer ... I mean murderer!" There was a sudden pop and
fizz of a magical explosion in front of the Witch's nose, and she hastily
decided to close up shop for the day. She wheeled downward, and screeched,
"I'll get you, my pretty! And your little dog ... er ... never mind, him
too!" Another fireball landed on the back of her broom, giving it an
interesting shimmy, and the Witch cut her losses and hightailed it out of
there, the broom's rear smoking unhappily. "Tiresome Old
Hag," the Magus said smugly. "Ahem. If You Will Return Inside, I
Will Make You An Offer You Can't Refuse." How did he do that, Amanda
wondered, but she was not in the mood to split hairs. She gathered her
friends and slogged down the dim hallway again, thinking sourly that it
wouldn't hurt for him to turn the lights up. "The Oldest Tree's
Limbs Have Special Powers To Strengthen Spells Cast Over Distance," the
Magus mused, still concealed. "There Have Been Rumblings of Dissension
Between West And Her Sister." Amanda snorted.
"That's late news. The Wicked Witch of the East is dead. Either before
my house fell on her or because my house fell on her ... not, I might add,
because I intended my house to fall on her." The Magus seemed
surprised. "So She Either Killed Her Sister Or Cast A Spell To Bring You
Here From ... From?" Maybe they were finally
getting somewhere. " There was a startled
cough, then a derisive sound from the unseen Magus. "It Is Obvious That
She Is Responsible, Since She Took The Oldest Tree's Limb." A rustling
of clothing, as if the Magus had risen from his seat, and a decisive clapping
of hands. "I Have Decided To Help You, On One Condition ... " Not the broom thing!
Amanda groaned, and started to speak. "Bring Me The Oldest
Tree's Limb From The Wicked Witch Of The West, And I Will Grant Your Requests
... And Prove That You Are No Murderer." This was worse. Amanda
would bet a day's pay that the witch didn't exactly leave that lying around
carelessly; but her protests went unheard as she and her friends were bundled
off hastily by the excessively cheerful (and relieved) Peridoteans. In short
order, the travelers found themselves once more on the wrong side of the City
gates, this time facing west. Act III, Scene One "Hand me the hot
tar," snarled the Witch, tending to her abused broom. A rodentite paw
gingerly offered the bucket of smoking pitch to her as the captain of the
Flying Gerbils tried to avoid inhaling the noxious fumes. The stuff safely
delivered, he wiped his streaming eyes and tried to sneak away, only to be
brought up short by her imperious command. He sighed and turned around.
"Yes, my Queen?" She fixed him with her
evil eye, which had a tendency to wander disturbingly, making him think that
maybe he should move with it before she accused him of trying to dodge her.
But the Witch had other things on her mind. "My crystal tells me that
murdering interloper and her misassortment of friends are approaching our
borders. I don't know what they're up to, but I want it stopped. You and your
underlings will bring them to me." He stared at her. She
seriously expected them to provide airline service when the gerbils had
enough trouble staying aloft as it was? "Fly?" he inquired
cautiously, hoping she would command him otherwise, but his hopes were dashed
as she gave him a poisonous stare. "You were planning to
swim, perhaps? Maybe I should change the lot of you into guppies?" "No, Lady," he
uttered hastily, retreating backwards with as obsequious a bow as his
blistered spirit could summon. "We live to serve, and will obey your
command." And turned tail (what there was of it) and ran as the Witch,
obviously finished with him, redirected her attention to broom repair. * * * * * * The sunlight was suddenly
blotted out as the intrepid travelers walked along, and they looked up to see
a myriad of what appeared to be puddings with wings hovering above them. As
Amanda watched in bemusement, wondering what had happened to the monkeys, one
suddenly lost what little aerodynamic integrity it had and plummeted
earthwards, to be followed in short order by the rest of the bizarre little
beasts. Muttering profanely, the largest one slowly picked itself up, dusted itself
off, and started to limp towards the foursome, only to stop short as a large
axe presented itself in front of the animal's nose. "I think that's close
enough," the Woodman's voice said evenly. His expression, despite its
metallic state, was less pleasant. The creature glared at him
for a moment. "Fine. Just because you've got an axe doesn't mean we
couldn't pick you up and drop you in a quarry somewhere, banged, dented, and
with no oil can." Steve laughed. "You
and how many others? You can't even stay aloft very well by yourselves. What
did you do, piss the old hag off until she changed you into hamsters?" It gritted its tiny little
teeth. "We're not hamsters." Amanda peeked around the
broad shoulders of her tin protector, and was beset with a fit of giggles.
"He's right, Steve," she hiccupped finally, trying to catch her
breath. "They're not hamsters ... they're ... they're gerbils!" The Lion burst out
laughing. "Even I don't find flying gerbils verrrry fearrrsome!" There was an immediate
gnashing of lots of little teeth as the rest of the flying beasties absorbed
the fact that they were a source of amusement even greater than they had
feared, and they moved to encircle the travelers. Suddenly, despite their
dumpy shapes and ludicrous wings, the gerbils didn't seem quite so laughable.
Steve's axe rose in readiness for an attack, and Jesse started shadowboxing,
testing his footwork. The situation became just a tad tense. Until Amanda remembered
the purpose of their journey, and realized that they were going to have to
get to the Witch's domain anyway. While she was a little leery of trusting
the aerodynamic quality of a trip by gerbil, they were most likely going to
have to trust the little beasts to get them safely to the castle. Remembering
what the flying monkeys had tried to do to her friends in the movie, she
stepped forward, plastering her best "this is my pathology lab and no
one else's" look on her face. "Let's just all take
a deep breath here, okay?" She looked around, nonplussed, as a slew of
furry little chests rose and fell obediently, followed by Jesse's and Mark's.
Steve, of course, gave her another of those irritated looks, but the axe
lowered fractionally. Encouraged, she continued. "I apologize for
laughing. I'm afraid I was expecting someone ... a little different." There was a chorus of
mumbles about monkeys, frogs, goats, and various other fauna from the
assembled gerbils. The large one glared around at his subordinates and
invited them to shut up, then turned back to Amanda. "Lady, my instructions
are to collect you and bring you to my mistress, the Wicked Witch of the
West. She didn't say anything about in what condition, you or your pals here.
So can we just get on with it? Maybe then She'll be willing to do something
about this." Tiny little paws gestured at the ungainly body, and
Amanda's conscience twinged. But ... she didn't appreciate being threatened,
either. "Not if you're going
to play rough with me or with my friends." As if on cue, Steve's axe
rose again, and the leader sighed. "Look, lady. Please
don't make my life any more difficult than it is, okay? It was bad enough
being a flying monkey ... monkeys have tails, we can swing through the air,
who needs to fly, for crying out loud? Then She gets it into Her head to
experiment ... and believe it or not this is the least objectionable one
She's come up with so far ... who the hell knows what She'll decide to do to
us if we don't wrap this up right now and take you to Her? One of these days
I'd really like to have a chance to return to something remotely resembling
my normal life." There was a chorus of
"You bet!" and "Me too!" and "You tell her, Fearless
Leader!" from the other gerbils. The leader winced. "Ever since
they saw that damn movie about that moose and squirrel ... Do you see what
I've got to live with here?" Amanda couldn't help but
feel sorry for the little beasts, especially their hapless captain. And they
did have to retrieve the Limb, after all. She swept a stern glance around at
everyone. "All right. But you treat us right. No funny business.
Everyone gets to the Witch's in one piece, safe and sound, no dents, scrapes
or missing parts, you understand me?" She pointed to the axe for
emphasis. "Or we're going to try a new roadkill recipe right here, right
now." Steve and Jesse both
stared at her in shock. Where had this Amanda come from? Only Mark, with a
little grin on his face, didn't seem to be surprised. But her words had the
desired effect: with mumbling and scrambling, the gerbils agreed. Within only
a few minutes, the winged beasties had sorted out the transport arrangements,
and they were aloft and en route. Act III, Scene Two After a surprisingly
uneventful and mercifully short flight, the blasted heath where the Witch
made her home hove into view. Amanda glanced around at the desolate scenery
and shuddered. The gerbil leader carrying her snorted. "You think this
is bad. Wait till you see the sorry architectural pile She calls home." He was right. The castle
looked like it had been designed by someone coming off of a particularly
spectacular LSD trip ... or had an M.C. Escher fixation. Either way, half of
it looked dimensionally impossible, and the remaining half was just plain
ugly. The gerbil banked and aimed for a turret yawing precariously, and
Amanda shut her eyes, unwilling to watch. They landed without incident,
however, and he set her down with surprising gentleness. She opened her eyes
to find herself looking into big, brown, disquietingly sad eyes, and her
conscience pulled at her again. Surreptitiously, she reached out and stroked
the soft fur, and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll tell her we were
suitably intimidated." The gerbil blinked, and
ducked his head. "Thanks, lady. We owe you." The eyes hardened as a
shadow fell across the room, and he glanced up. "My Queen, we have
brought you Dorothy --- oops, Amanda," he amended hastily, rubbing his
side where Amanda had poked him. The Witch smiled. At
least, compared to her usual expressions, it could be considered a smile.
[The Reader will not incur criticism by reserving judgment.] "And your
friends, too!" She waved at uncomfortable looking chairs which suddenly
appeared. "Sit and rest; you must be exhausted from your journey." Unwillingly, all but Steve
obeyed; the Woodman moved to stand guard next to Amanda's chair, grumbling
about wanting his axe back. The Witch ignored him, moving to stand in front
of the young pathologist. "Now we'll get to the bottom of this, my
pretty! You murdered my sister, and you will pay! First, give me the sapphire
slippers!" Amanda was fed up with the
nasty old woman. "No, I won't! And I didn't murder your sister! You
stole the Oldest Tree's Limb, and you did something to your sister with it!
I'd bet dollars to doughnuts that she was already dead as a doornail before
my house and I even arrived, and I'm going to prove it!" The Witch's wandering eye
hustled back over to cross with her good one as she worked her way through
the idiom. "What's a doughnut ..." she started to ask, then shook
off the distraction. "You can't prove anything! Even if I did take the
Limb ... you know nothing, you foolish girl!" She motioned to the
gerbils lounging about and pointed scraggly fingers at Amanda's friends.
"Take them away, even that excuse for a dog! You, young lady, will stay
locked up here until you give me those shoes!" There were some unpleasant
moments while assorted gerbils stared at each other, scratched their heads
and tummies with bewilderment, then reluctantly took hold of Steve, Mark and
Jesse, bearing down on them more by force of numbers than brute strength. The
doughty trio, unwilling to inflict actual damage on the hapless rodents,
resisted at first, then opted to submit after receiving one of those
go-along-for-now looks from Amanda, who was determined to ferret out the
truth from the Witch. Her plan might have
worked, too, except for Jesse. The Lion's nerve, cooped up for much too long,
had finally had enough, and galvanized the royal beast into unplanned action,
with unexpected results. "Roarrrr! I'm the
King of the Forrrest! All will face me and fearrr!" he spat, the r's and
f's acquiring additional expectoration due to the intensity of the explosion.
A substantial amount of spittle flew and landed, with exquisite accuracy, on
the end of the Witch's long, bumpy, wart-ridden nose. She let out a shriek
like an express train, and shrank back. "Noooooo!!!! Spit's
even worse than waaaaater! I'm ... I'm --- turning into Silly Putty!" [Now, that's quite enough,
the Fair Reader says, and rightly so. After all, this is Oz, isn't it?
Shouldn't the Witch be melting? Aha, but that's when only water is involved.
When the additional qualities contained in Lion Spit are factored in ...
well, it could have been much, much worse. Silly Putty the Witch became, and
Silly Putty she will remain. Ahem. Back to our story.] Amanda stared with wonder
at the quivering pinkish mass on the floor, regrettably adorned with the
Witch's pointy hat. "Wow, Jesse." Steve punched the Lion on
the arm, sending him reeling against the gerbils who still stood behind him
and almost bowling them over. "Nice going, Lion! Wouldn't have known you
had it in you!" Jesse righted himself and
coughed self-consciously. "Errr. A Lion's got to do what a Lion's got to
do, you know." The gerbils, temporarily
stunned by the transformation of their monarch, unfroze and leapt into
action, grabbing, poking and stomping on the pink glob, babbling excitedly
and giggling madly when it proved unable to resist. After landing what
appeared to be a particularly satisfying punch, the leader removed himself from
the mayhem and approached Amanda with a bow. "We've got a little dilemma
here, lady." Amanda yanked her
fascinated gaze away from the sight of the gerbils' revenge. "What do
you mean?" He shrugged. "Well
... on the one paw, we owe you double now for freeing us from the Witch. On
the other ... well, now we're stuck like this forever." Amanda's hand flew to her
mouth. "Oh, no," she breathed, horror-stricken, and was shocked to
see Steve surreptitiously wipe a stray tear from his eye. He looked up,
caught her gaze, and coughed, but it was obvious that she had ratted him out. Help came from an
unexpected quarter. "I have an idea," Mark said diffidently, and
every head swiveled (well, the gerbils' bodies swiveled along with their
heads) in his direction in shock. "How about if the Gerbils help us find
the Limb, then fly us back to the Peridot City? Then the Magus can't refuse
to help them." Substantial commentary
broke out as the gerbils began to discuss the plan, until Amanda finally
raised her hands. "Quiet, everyone, please!" She turned to the
leader. "Can you ... will you help us?" He eyed her consideringly,
his gaze stopping on the sapphire shoes, then he shrugged. "What the
heck. There's no reason for us to stay here, anyway ... if he can't change
us, at least we're free to travel." With an effort, Amanda
suppressed the image of flying gerbils on a long-term tour of Oz, and smiled
at him. "I knew you'd help." She included the rest of the rodents
in her smile. "Come on, let's find that Limb!" They tore through the
castle, finding a vast assortment of magical and unmagical items, some of
which Amanda didn't even want to consider the significance of, until, hot,
tired and sweaty (with the exception of Mark and Steve), the motley crew
collapsed in the main hall. Amanda pushed her damp hair back from her face.
"Lots of junk. No Limb," she said disgustedly. "Now
what?" Steve shrugged, immune to
the disconcerting whine of metal which made the others squeeze their eyes
shut with pain. "The Witch is destroyed at least ... that should count
for something." He glanced around and let out a yell. "You mangy
little mutt, not in the house!" With an irritated snuff
for the Woodman, Toto lowered the leg which he had started to raise and
headed for the door, abandoning the lovely piece of wood he had found and had
planned to christen. Amanda followed him with her eyes and then glanced back
at the intended target. Light dawned. "That's it!" she crowed
triumphantly, and leapt for the branch before the little dog changed his mind. The rest stared as she
picked up the Limb, waving it around in a little victory dance around the
room. "That's it?" Jesse echoed, putting the communal thought into
words. She nodded. "See,
it's all gnarly, but it's not crooked or askew like everything else in this
place. It's obviously the Limb." Incautiously, she aimed it at one of
the distorted pieces of furniture, which obligingly exploded, sending the
gerbils scattering. Fatigue forgotten, she skipped towards the door.
"Come on, everyone! We're off to see de M!" Act III, Scene Three It was an optimistic bunch
which presented itself once more at the City gate. The gatekeeper took one
look at the Gerbils, cracked a smile, and lost it immediately as Steve poked
him with the butt of the axe. "Wipe that silly grin off your face and
let us in," the Woodman advised softly, his eyes like blue steel. The
gatekeeper coughed and obeyed, wincing as eau de gerbil passed by, then
followed, curious to see the denouement. By the time they reached the Magus'
corridor, every Peridotean along the way had followed the gatekeeper's
example, and a large crowd pushed its way into the hallway behind Amanda and
her friends. "OH, YOU'RE BACK, ARE
YOU?" Despite the capitals, the
Magus' voice sounded strained, as if he knew what was coming and didn't like
it. Amanda brandished the Limb. "We've brought you what you asked for,
and destroyed the Witch in the process! Now will you please grant our
wishes?" "Your Wishes."
Now he really sounded rattled. "Oh, Right. Your Wishes. Well. It Seems
To Me That Your Friends Already Have Had Their Wishes Granted. The Scarecrow
Has Used His Head Repeatedly; The Woodman Has Found His Emotional Center; And
The Lion Has Acted With Extreme Courage." Those three worthies
blinked, stared at each other, and scratched their respective heads.
"Wait a minute ..." Jesse started, but the Magus wasn't finished. "And, Since The Limb
Can Be Used To Throw Major Spells Over Distance Without Detection, It Is
Clear That The Witch Used It To Kill Her Sister." "But I already knew I
didn't kill her sister!" Amanda pointed out acidly. "What about my
wish? I just want to go home! I'm worried about my boys, and I need to be
with them!" "Erumpfh. Home. Er.
Um. Can't Be Done. Sorry. Have To Go Now, Important Appointment," the
Magus stated with an obvious air of finality. What? No pretense of even
trying to do anything? Where was the damn curtain, anyway, Amanda thought,
her temper close to flashpoint, and she started forward, hefting the Limb
much in the manner of a baseball bat. The Magus continued to mumble,
apparently unaware of her advance, which proved to be his undoing. Her eyes
slowly becoming used to the murkiness of the hall, Amanda finally saw what
looked like a curtain, which twitched as the Magus moved about. Gritting her
teeth, she swung the Limb, and connected. "Ow! What the hell
..." The curtain retracted, and a tall, angry-looking man stood there
rubbing his posterior. Amanda stared. "Chief ...
Masters?" she finally stammered. His scowl turned into a
puzzled frown. "No, Captain Masters. I never made chief," he
replied automatically, then he gathered his wits. "You Didn't Hear
That," he added, in a rather pathetic attempt to regain control. Amanda wasn't having any.
"Huh-uh. Forget the exaggerated capitals, mister. You made me a promise,
and you're going to keep it. Give my friends what they asked for, and get me
home!" Masters-Magus spread his
hands in capitulation. "I can't. I'm not even a real Magus. I'm just
here by accident: I fell asleep one day watching the Wizard of Oz and woke up
here in the Peridot City." He shook his head disgustedly. "I
couldn't convince these morons that I wasn't the Magus, and Cheryl just
laughed hysterically every time I asked her for help, so I finally gave
in." Cheryl had laughed at him?
The corner of Amanda's mouth started to curve upward as she pictured the
scene; then she took herself firmly in hand. "Well, you're going to have
to either think of something or do some major groveling and convince her to
help, because otherwise the gerbils and I are going to make your life not
worth living." He shuddered.
"Please. They were bad enough as flying goats." That image was definitely
going to stay far, far away. Amanda stood firm. "Call her. Now." "Oh, he doesn't have
to do that," the Good Witch remarked. Amanda whipped around to see
Cheryl leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a big fat grin on her face.
She was obviously enjoying herself. "I wouldn't have missed this for the
world." She snapped her fingers, and a pair of thrones appeared. Cheryl
made herself comfortable in one, and motioned to Amanda to take the other.
"Sit down, take a load off. This may take a while," she advised,
basking in the wide-eyed adoration on Steve's face as he watched her. No fool, the Magus got
down on one knee. "Please, Cheryl, send her home and do something about
the Gerbils ... or send me home and do whatever you want." Bantering aside, Cheryl
gave him a hard, shrewd look. "I'm not sending you anywhere just yet. We
still have some negotiating to do." She beckoned to the leader of the
Gerbils. "Okay. You were pretty obnoxious monkeys, especially after you
got wings, but I realize the Witch was pretty hard on you guys after that.
I'm assuming you're over the gerbil thing." He grimaced. "Yes,
please. I don't ever want to see another pellet again." Cheryl nodded
encouragingly. "So ---?" He glanced at his fellow
gerbils, and they huddled for a few minutes. While it was difficult for the
others to distinguish the more desirable possibilities, it was clear from the
pithiness of the commentary that goats, guppies and toads were definitely not
on the A-list. Finally, the leader emerged and offered diffidently,
"Squirrels. And we'd like to keep the wings, please." Cheryl grinned. "You
got it, Fearless Leader." She waved her wand, and the lumpy brown bodies
were transformed into graceful gray ones, which immediately took to the air
with squeals of delight. She watched them with a smile, then shooed them off.
"Okay, off with you. Go have fun. Go find moose." The issue of the gerbils
resolved, the Good Witch turned her attention to Amanda and her friends.
"Let's see. This should be pretty simple, really." She stood up and
raised her wand. "Lion." Encouraged by the twinkle
in Cheryl's eyes and her obvious sense of humor, Jesse strode to her side.
"Yes, ma'am." She brought the wand up
and tapped him lightly on each shoulder, and conjured a large medal out of
thin air. "You are one righteously courageous lion. Rule your "Scarecrow." Reassured by her treatment
of Jesse, Mark wobbled over as steadily as he could. She gave him a hug,
tapped his temples with her wand, and produced a scroll. "The Magus was
right, you know. You came up with the ideas to save the day. And this is your
commendation as proof." Pleased, Mark returned to
Amanda, showing her the scroll shyly. She could have sworn he was blushing,
but that was impossible for a scarecrow, wasn't it? For a Woodman, now, was
another matter. Upon hearing his name called, Steve had approached the Good
Witch with some hesitation. "Um ... maybe this isn't a good thing,"
he mumbled as she raised her wand. Cheryl gave him a dazzling
smile. "Oh, yes, it is. Trust me." The wand tapped the metal chest,
the Good Witch kissed the Woodman's lips resoundingly, and the entire City
discovered that a man made out of tin not only had a heart but blushed ...
all over. Now it was clearly
Amanda's turn. "Uh ... let me guess. I click the shoes together and say,
there's no place like home?" she asked. Cheryl stared at her.
"Not." What? How was she supposed
to get home? Amanda said as much, with some heat, and the Good Witch laughed.
"It's not as difficult as you think. Take off the shoes, pick up the
dog, and say nighty-night. When you wake up, you'll be wherever it was you
fell asleep." That simple, all right.
Amanda found herself suddenly besieged by airborne squirrels squeaking their
thanks, then her three friends pushed through the furry throng. Jesse was the
first to hug her fiercely, promising to make her proud of him. Then Steve,
somewhat diffidently, presented himself for her embrace. "Make sure you
always have your oilcan," she reminded him, and he actually laughed, the
so-blue eyes twinkling. And the Scarecrow. Saying
goodbye was almost as hard as it would have been if she had been leaving Mark
himself. She threw herself into his arms with a little sob. "I won't forget
you," she mumbled, and her mentor's face smiled back at her. "I
know. And I'll never forget you, because now I can remember you," he
replied. Amanda tore herself away
and picked up the little dog, who rolled his tongue out at her happily.
"Okay," she said, stepping out of the shoes, which suddenly seemed
much too big. "What about him?" she asked, gesturing towards the
Magus. Cheryl chuckled.
"I'll send him back when I'm good and ready. Until then ... maybe some
of your friends may have a less stressful time at work." Amanda's eyes
widened, but the Good Witch shook her head. "Uh-uh. Against the rules.
Now wave goodbye and say nighty-night." She raised her wand as Amanda
complied, and Oz blinked out. Epilogue Amanda relaxed back
against the sofa cushions and stretched. She must have slept for hours ...
the TV was off, and she could hear the boys playing in their room. The light
streaming in through the windows clearly indicated that morning had arrived
... some time ago. What a dream, she thought to herself wonderingly. She
obviously needed to stop working so hard, or take a breather more often. She
stood up and wandered towards the kitchen, thinking longingly of coffee, and
heard a knock on the door. It was Steve and Jesse.
"We brought you breakfast," Jesse said. "As a peace offering
for being so grumpy this past week," Steve added, his eyes twinkling. Amanda blinked, but
something in the basket Jesse was holding smelled mouth-wateringly delicious.
Far be it from her to say no, she thought, and waved them in. "Mark's
not with you?" Steve glanced back.
"He was ... he must have stopped for something on the way." While they set out the
food, Amanda told them about her dream. "It was so real, too! And you
were in it, Steve, and you, Jesse, and Mark, and Cheryl, and even Chief
Masters!" Jesse shrugged. "You
have been working pretty hard, Amanda. And if it can happen to Dorothy, why
not to you too?" Why not, indeed, Amanda
thought. "You're probably right. I never left Mark stuck his head around
the door, at his heels a small fluff of fur bearing the satisfied air of
accomplished business. "Hey, Amanda! When did you get a dog?" the end |
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