Authors: Darrin Mason
The driver looked over his shoulder. “You know, you don’t need
me
to get to Oz. Besides, it’d cost you a trillion gazillion dollars in a cab.”
The Wicked Witch was perplexed. “I don’t get it. What do you mean, I don’t need you?”
The driver smiled. “You’ve always had the power to get back to Oz. Them boots you got on. All you need to do is click the heels together seventy two thousand, three hundred and eight times, and say, Fuck where I am, get me back home.” His smile widened. “Fuck where you are, Wendy. Get you back home.”
The Wicked Witch looked down at her boots. She clicked them once. Only seventy two thousand, three hundred and seven times to go. Twice. Thrice. Four times. Five times.
“Can you get a move on?” the driver asked. “Time’s a wasting.”
The Wicked Witch looked up at him. Six, seven
times, eight, nine, ten times. Fuck it. She would hitch a ride.
She climbed out of the cab and started
walking. She held out her thumb, hoping someone would stop and give her a lift. Someone did.
“It’s alright, momma,” the man said in a heavy southern accent. “The ol’
Kentucky rain’s behind us now.” He was dressed in a white, sequinned jumpsuit. He looked like he might have stole it and he was on the run from the jailhouse rock. She wasn’t scared though. After all, she was armed with an automatic rifle. She climbed in and sat next to him. She accidentally trod on his foot. “Whoa, momma. Don’t be cruel. And stay
off
my blue suede shoes. Shee-it.” He switched on the radio and they got a blast of rock and roll. Oh, yeah.
The Cadillac roared down the highway. Oz, here they come.
CHAPTER SEVEN
T
he Cadillac tore across the hills surrounding Munchkinland. Up and down it went. The Wicked Witch bumped her head on the roof. She rubbed it better then slapped Elvis across the face. “Would you slow the fuck down a little?”
Elvis slammed his foot on the brake and the car came to a screeching halt. He turned to the Wicked Witch. “You know what, ma’am? A little less conversation
and
a little less action would go a hell of a long way right now.”
The Wicked Witch climbed out of the car and slammed the door. “Eh, go eat another fried peanut butter and banana sandwich, ya bloated oaf.” She turned and started for the little village where she would find more munchkins to kill and hopefully Dorothy too.
Elvis called out to her. “You’re dreaming the impossible dream, momma. You’re gonna end up in the ghetto, that’s for Goddam sure.”
The Wicked Witch turned to him and gave him the finger. “Up yours, you
Kentucky fried fuck.” She turned away and continued her march toward the munchkins. She pulled the automatic rifle out from underneath her dress and slung it over her shoulder. She was going to get her some munchkins and make a munchkin pie, followed by a slice of Dorothy Gale for desert.
It turns out t
he Wicked Witch was indeed wicked, but she wanted to share her glory with those who had served her well, so she put two fingers in her mouth and blew. The whistling sound carried high upon the wind to her castle. The winged monkeys heard the call and took flight for Munchkinland. They flew over the hill and landed as one behind the Wicked Witch. With a broad smile, she marched on, followed closely by several hundred monkeys that were followed closely by several hundred drug-testers, each of them trying to get a urine sample from the monkeys to prove true or not the rumour they had been taking illegal drugs. After all, how the fuck else does a monkey grow wings? For that matter, how the fuck does an elderly woman with green skin manage to not die at a much earlier age? And if two by two and two
plus
two both equal four, why can’t the same be said for three by three and three
plus
three?
Son of a BANG! Son of a BOOM!
The munchkins ran for their lives. So did Dorothy. She dived behind the house and pulled out the bazooka from underneath it.
Dear God, please let the training Glinda gave me serve me well
. She came out to the front of the house and aimed the bazooka at the Wicked Witch.
“Oh, you are fucking kidding,” the Wicked Witch said. She wet herself and the urine ran down her leg. She turned and ran. So did the monkeys and the drug testers.
Dorothy pulled the trigger and the rocket flew past the Wicked Witch. It raced through the air and entered the Wicked Witch’s castle through a second floor window. The Wicked Witch could only watch as the rocket exploded and the castle went up in flames.
Dorothy loaded another rocket into the bazooka and aimed it again at the Wicked Witch. She pulled the trigger again and the rocket went zooming through the air. It struck the Wicked Witch and she fell to the ground clutching her chest.
“I’m bleeding,” the Wicked Witch cried. “I’m bleeeee-ding.” She started to melt then disappeared into a pool of blood. What a world indeed.
“She’s dead,” one of the winged monkeys said. It looked at Dorothy. “You killed her.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Dorothy said, stepping back from the monkey. “It was an accident.”
Much to Dorothy’s surprise, the winged monkeys cheered and clapped her for killing the Wicked Witch. Dorothy smiled. She punched the air in jubilation. “YES!”
The theme song from Rocky began to play. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-
“Dora-theeeee!”
“Aunty Em?”
Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-
“Dora-theeeee!”
“Aunty Em!”
Dorothy ran across the ring and leaped into her auntie’s arms. They hugged each other and the crowd roared.
“I love you, Dorothy.”
Dorothy smiled. “I love you too, Aunty Em.” She looked out at the crowd and raised her fist in triumph, thus ending the first part of her journey from unknown heavyweight boxer to heavyweight champion of the world.
THE END
T
he Wicked Witch of the West stood in front of the Great and Powerful Ozzie Was Born with the Head of a Bat in His Mouth. Smoke billowed into the air around him. “What … do you want?” he said in a loud voice that echoed around the Aunt Esmeralda City.
The Wicked Witch bowed to the Great man. “I want the chance to redeem myself,” she said, “O
Great and Powerful Ozzie Was Born with the Head of a Bat in His Mouth.”
More smoke billowed into the air.
“Rise, Wicked Witch,” the Great and Powerful Ozzie said. The Wicked Witch rose. The Great and Powerful Ozzie continued, “I will give you your chance. But first you must answer these questions three.”
The Wicked Witch turned her ear to the
Great and Powerful Ozzie. “Go on.”
“Question one. What … is your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Correct.”
The Wicked Witch smiled.
“What … is your quest?”
“To redeem myself in the eyes of my father and my Holy God there goes the bat you bit the head off.” The Wicked Witch ducked and the bat whose head the Great and Powerful Ozzie bit off flew out the window and into the hands of the Great and Powerful Babe Ruth from the Book of Ruth of the Hebrew Bible who swung it and - DONK - sent the ball flying over the fence for a home “Run Forrest Run” all the way to the World Series that the Yankees won four games to three before being disqualified for fielding an unregistered pray-er not play-er. Phew and Holeee Shit.
“
What … is the air-speed velocity of an unladen
swallow
?”
A man came running onto the set. He was yelling and waving a handful of papers in the air. “Stop the damn movie right there. Stop it, I say.”
The Wicked Witch and the Great and Powerful Ozzie turned to the man. “What the fuck is it?” the Great and Powerful Ozzie asked.
“I represent the estate of the Sixty Foot Python and It’s Flying Sir Custard Tart and
you
, Sir, are violating Law 487 Dash D Part C Plus 324 Equals MCHammer, and I demand you cease and desist the making of this movie right now.”
The Wicked Witch and the
Great and Powerful Ozzie looked at each other. “What do you think?” the Wicked Witch asked. The Great and Powerful Ozzie replied, “My dear, prove to me your green is more blue than yellow.”
The Wicked Witch smiled then turned to the man. She pointed a bony green finger at him and twirled it around. As she twirled it she said, “Abracadabra Abracadee Give me your -”
KA-BOOM!!!
The smoke cleared and there in all his glory stood the man himself.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” The Wicked Witch turned to the Great and Powerful Ozzie. “Do you know anything about this?”
The Hulkstereo 104.3FM flexed his muscles. “What you gonna do, Wicked Witch, when Hulkstereo-madness runs wild on
you
?”
The Wicked Witch turned back to the Hulkstereo 104.3FM. She eyed his rock solid body that glistened like a diamond in the sun. “You wanna play do you, Hulkstereo?” She moved slowly to the left then jumped to the right. She put her hands on her hips, and if she’d seen how goddam ugly she was she’d get a great big fri-i-i-i-ght. She conjured a ball of fire in the palm of her hand and threw it at the ground. A huge plume of thick, black smoke rose from the ground, and Bret “The Hit Ma Noggin against Yours and Drop You like a Sack of Potatoes” Heart stepped out of it. The crowd went wild. Half of it cheered The Hit Ma Noggin against Yours and Drop You like a Sack of Potatoes and the other half jeered him. That’s what he was to them - a hero or a villain. He grabbed the microphone from the ring announcer and stepped in front of the Hulkstereo 104.3FM. He poked the Hulkstereo 104.3FM on Facebook and said, “I’m the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever William Told His Mother on Me Because I Beat the Shit out of Him for the Apple on His Son’s Head. That’s how Capital B Bad I am.”
Just then the Killer Bees That Are the Bees Who Kill ran into the arena from the dressing room and down the ramp toward the ring. They jumped in and started to attack The Hit Ma Noggin against Yours and Drop You like a Sack of Potatoes who turned and tagged in the Wicked Witch. She climbed through the ropes and she was ready to rock and whack a rolling pin over the back of their heads. With her tongue hanging down over her chin she strutted her stuff from one side of the ring to the other, egging on the crowd, giving them the heave-ho ho ho the merrio Santa got stuck in the chimney and now he’s dead because no one knew he was there when they lit the fire the next day. She whacked the Killer Bees That Are the Bees Who Kill from Wednesday to Tuesday and back again and that gave The Hit Ma Noggin against Yours and Drop You like a Sack of Potatoes time to get out of harm’s way. He rolled out to the apron and dropped to the floor, hoping to catch his breath. The Hulkstereo 104.3FM grabbed a George “The Animal” Steel Chair whose tongue hung lower than the Wicked Witch’s and was greener than her skin. The Hulkstereo 104.3FM whacked the George “The Animal” Steel Chair over The Hit Ma Noggin against Yours and Drop You like a Sack of Potatoes’ head, cracking it wide open and blood began to bleed.
Meanwhile, back in the ring, the Wicked Witch was taking care of business. She flung one of the Killer Bees That Are the Bees Who Kill into the corner against the turnbuckle and ran in and KA-POW went the Killer Bee with a knee to the Wicked Witch’s sternum, and down she went, clutching her stomach and not letting go.
The Killer Bee with a knee to the sternum grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet. The other Killer Bee grabbed the Wicked Witch’s arm and together they flung her against the rope hoping to execute a double clothes-line, but when she came back she dived through the air and executed a double clothes-line of her own then climbed on her broom and scooted into the air leaving a trail of thick, black smoke which filled the arena and she took off into the Starry Starry Night which is the first line of a song called Vincent that is equally as well-known by its first line. It was written by Don McLean in honour of Vincent Van There Goes My Ear So Help Me God It Hurts Like Hell who saluted the Wicked Witch as she flew past him on her way to Kansas where she would have it out again with Dorothy.
O 2 B A Waaan Kanoby handed the controls to C 3 Pee Ohhhhhh My God I’ve Sprung A Leak and R 2 Am Not and climbed out onto the wing of the StarFighter. He lined up the Wicked Witch and dived off the wing, collecting her with a powerful clothes line that near knocked her into the middle of next month. Punches were thrown and O 2 B A Waaan Kanoby applied the Volcano Death Grip, a move made famous by Dr Spocketti who used it to win many a match against bigger and better opponents until that infamous winter day on the way to where no man has gone before when he turned the shower to HOT AS HELL and cooked himself. Nothing ever goes to waste though, and
that night the crew of the Starship Enterprise enjoyed a hearty meal of Spocketti bolognaise.
One. Two. The Wicked Witch broke the Volcano Death Grip. Oh so close to three. She turned the tables on O 2 B A Waaan Kanoby, applying a sleeper hold on him. C 3 Pee Ohhhhhh My God I’ve Sprung A Leak and R 2 Am Not climbed out of the StarFighter they were flying and jumped onto the Wicked Witch’s back, trying hard to break the sleeper hold she had on O 2 B A Waaan Kanoby. Out of nowhere the Starship Enterprise came into view. Captain Cucumber turned to Scooter. “Beam me down, Scooter.” Scooter flicked a switch and Captain Cucumber was transported to where the Wicked Witch was about to put O 2 B A Waaan Kanoby to sleep with the sleeper hold. He pushed C 3 Pee Ohhhhhh My God I’ve Sprung A Leak and R 2 Am Not out of the way and grabbed the Wicked Witch. He tossed her across the ring into the waiting arms of Space In Vader. He butted her head with his helmet. The Wicked Witch crashed to the ground. Space In Vader tagged Captain Cucumber into the ring. The Wicked Witch smacked him right between the legs. Captain Cucumber fell to his knees, holding his cucumber. The Wicked Witch crawled to the other side of the ring where Maid Marion was waiting to be tagged in. The Wicked Witch tagged her and in she came, heavily armed with some rags and several bottles of Mr Sheen. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s true. It’s going to happen. Maid Marion is going to … CLEAN HOUSE!!! FUCK YEAHHH!!!
The Wicked Witch took off again on her broom, heading for Kansas, hoping for a piece of Dorothy Gale. In fact, not just hoping for it, but demanding it. And not just from herself, but from me, the writer of this crazy-ass shit.
CHAPTER TWO
D
orothy kept vigil by her Aunty Em’s side. She was sick, and, in fact, close to death. On the far side of the room, leaning against the wall, was Dorothy’s trainer Mickey Windmill Not Goldmill like It Was in the Rocky Movies. Tears rolled down Dorothy’s face. “Aunty Em,” she said softly. “Please wake up.”
Mickey looked over at Frank Who Would Be Mor Gan a Hundred and Twenty Years Old If He Were Still Alive Today who looked back at him. Neither of them said anything
. They just looked at each other.
Aunty Em opened her eyes ever so slightly. She turned to Dorothy and whispered something. Dorothy turned her ear to Aunty Em. “What did you say, Aunty Em? I didn’t hear you.”
Aunty Em smiled. “Win. Win!!”
Dorothy smiled. She turned to Mickey who turned to Frank and said, smiling, “What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
Mickey and Frank ran out of the room.
Dorothy smiled at Aunty Em who smiled back.
“Go,” Aunty Em said. “Go out there and win!!”
Dorothy climbed to her feet and ran out of the room after Mickey Windmill Not Goldmill like It Was in the Rocky and Frank Who Would Be Mor Gan a Hundred and Twenty Years Old If He Were Still Alive Today. Meanwhile, Aunty Em closed her eyes and got back to dying.
CHAPTER THREE
D
orothy zigged this way and zagged that, and fast too. That damned little chicken wasn’t going to give up without a fight, though. Every time Dorothy zigged it zagged, and every time Dorothy zagged it zigged. “BRAAAAK,” it squawked. “Goddam little shit-fucker,” Dorothy yelled as it slipped past her.
Over in the next pen,
the Great and Powerful Ozzie Was Born with the Head of a Bat in His Mouth was chasing his own chicken. He huffed and puffed as he gave chase. He was soon proved to be as out of shape as he was work. He stopped running and rested his hands on his knees. He was wheezing and puffing and puffing and wheezing, trying hard to catch his breath. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at the chicken. A bolt of lightning zapped the chicken and it dropped dead. Ozzie fell face first to the ground, exhausted. On one hand, the chicken was finger lickin’ fucked. On the other, the Great and Powerful Ozzie Was Born with the Head of a Bat in His Mouth, death metal legend and this story’s Wizard of Oz, was just … fucked.
“What the hell are you looking at, Dorothy?” Mickey Windmill Not Goldmill like It Was in the Rocky Movies yelled out. “Get back to catching that damned chicken.”
Dorothy turned back to the chicken in her own pen. The chicken stopped running and looked at her. Dorothy looked at it and smiled. There was a glint in her eye. The chicken braaaak braaaak braaaaaked the hell out of there as fast as it could but as fast as it braaaaaked Dorothy braaaaaked even faster. She wanted it more. And she got it. She held the chicken in the air by its neck. She danced around with a great big smile on her face. “HELL YEAH!!!”
“Now
that’s
greased lightning,” Mickey said to Frank Who Would Be Mor Gan a Hundred and Twenty Years Old If He Were Still Alive Today who smiled and nodded in agreement.
Greased ... lightning?
“Go Greased Lightning we’re burning up the quarter mile, Greased Lightning Go Greased Lightning.”
Mickey turned to Danny Zoo Keeper. “Would you shut the fuck up, kid? We’re trying to make a movie here.”
Danny Zoo Keeper turned to Mickey. “Fuck you, old man.” He gave Mickey the finger, climbed into his 1948 Ford, wrapped his arm around Sandy I’ll Send You Around The Bend With My Saccharin Sweet Sweetness, and drove into the big blue sky. The rest of the Rydell High students waved them goodbye with a smile on their face and some famous last words. “Grease is the word, Haven’t you heard, that Grease is the word, and we can’t believe, that you ain’t no longer, a fuckin Thunnnnnderrrrr Birrrrrd.”
Mickey Windmill Not Goldmill like It Was in the Rocky Movies’ blood began to boil. “Get the fuck out of here, the lot of you. Go on. Scram.”
A fighter plane came out of nowhere and gunned down the vehicle Danny and sandy were driving. The Rydell High students ran for their lives as pieces of 1948 Ford fell out of the sky. The fighter plane with truckin’ big guns sped down the home straight. The pilot waved to the crowd as she crossed the finish line ahead of everyone else. She pulled the plane into pit lane and climbed out of the cockpit then turned to her crew who blew the shit out of her. One of them pulled off a mask and who should it be but Frankie Vallie who stood over the pilot and began to sing, “You should’ve walked like a man, talked like a man, Maraschino Bay Yay Beeee. As in Cherry.” When he did, the crowd went nuts. Frankie Vallie turned to them and raised his arms in triumph. “YEAH!!”