Wizard of Aahz
chapters 1 - 3
by Mandy / M.E.
By Lady Mandy of the Orange
Root
aka M.E. (Magnificent Entity
Insert disclaimer. (The
reason I always put in insert disclaimer' is because I can never remember
who the characters belong to!)
ME: Ahhh! I have finally
conquered my writer's block by stealing someone else's plot! Now I can relieve
the immense amounts of creativity that have been building up in my mind!
Yusuke: Hey! If you're going
to write a fic I demand to be made the main character! You never give me an
important role in your stories!
ME: Ummm, actually you get an
important role in this one...
Yusuke: Am I the main
character?
ME: No, Kurama is.
Yusuke: He's ALWAYS the main
character! It's my turn!
ME: Are you sure?
Yusuke: Yes.
ME: Okay, you get to switch
parts with Kurama.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cast:
Dorothy, played by Yusuke
Feet wearing fuzzy orange
slippers, played by ME
Toto, played by Montmorency
Good Witch, played by Botan
Pop., the munchkin with a
limited vocabulary, played by Hiei
Fuzzy Orange Slippers, played
by Mandy
Disgruntled yellow brick
road, played by Martin the paranoid android
Scarecrow, played by the
egotistical Kazuma Kuwabara
Aluminum man, played by
Kurama
Oil Can, played by Jean
(Not-At-All) Cowardly
Lioness, played by Anne
Wizard of Aahz, played by
Koenma
Evil Fairy, played by
Stephanie
Glinda the Good, played by
Yukina
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part 1 ~ Creepy, the Feet
Talked
Dorothy: What?! I'm a girl?!
How dare you make me a, a, a GIRL?!?!?!
Feet: You said you wanted to
be the main character...
Dorothy: Creepy, the feet
talked. Are you okay under that house, Feet?
Feet: I'm not under the
house, I'm just a pair of feet sticking out from under the house. I used to
belong to the Wicked Writer of the East but your stupid house fell on top of my
body so now I'm just a pair of feet.
Dorothy: Too bad...
Toto: Arf!
Dorothy: Oh look! A mutt!
Toto: Grrrr!
Dorothy: Oh great, a mutt
with feelings.
A girl crashes through the
trees. She is riding an oar-shaped thingy. There is a small man sitting behind
her on her oar.
Good Witch: (Pant, pant!)
Hello and welcome to the land of Aahz. Thank you for killing off the evil writer
that was oppressing the population.
Dorothy: Evil writer?
Good Witch: Yes, ME, an evil
writer, was tormenting the population with her stories.
Dorothy: Population?
Good Witch: Yes, the
population. Sometimes we call him pop. for short.
Dorothy: Pop.?
Good Witch: Oh, that's right,
you haven't met pop. yet! This is pop., our population! Say hello pop.!
Pop., the disgruntled
munchkin with a limited vocabulary: Hn.
Good Witch: Now Dorothy, you
must take the magical fuzzy orange slippers. They will aid you on your quest.
Dorothy: Quest? Fuzzy orange
slippers?
Part 2 ~ Foz, the Fuzzy
Orange Slippers or, We Meet the Scarecrow
Good Witch: Umm, yes, your
quest for a way to get back home. The fuzzy orange slippers that used to belong
to the Wicked Writer of the East will help you a lot. You should put them on.
Dorothy: Home? I don't know
anything about going to home, I just want to be a guy again!
Good Witch: Oh, that's right.
You had to suffer a sex change for the benefit of the plot that the writer's
plagiarizing. I guess you can change the goal of your quest... Okay, now that
that's figured out, PUT ON THE SLIPPERS!!!!!!!
Dorothy: You want me to wear
shoes that are not only a fashion crime, but were also recently worn by a some
of talking feet?!
Fuzzy Orange Slippers: HEY!
I'm not a fashion crime! Since when to do boys (or boys-turned-girls for that
matter) know about fashion? You're wearing a gingham dress, or whatever those
are called. NOW _that's_ a fashion crime!
Dorothy: Oh great. Slippers
with fashion sense. Please, spare me the horror.
Even though Dorothy tries to
resist, the good witch removes her oh-so-1998 mary janes, replacing them with
the magical Fuzzy Orange Slippers. The good witch then escapes on her oar, and,
since she is a good witch, she takes along pop. and Toto.
Fuzzy Orange Slippers:
EWWWWWW! The fumes! The odor! Haven't you ever heard of personal hygiene?
Dorothy: Personal what?
Fuzzy Orange Slippers: I rest
my case. It looks like I'm stuck with you. By the way, you don't have to call me
the Most Wonderful, Fantastic, Magical Fuzzy Orange Slippers all the time. My
friends call me Foz.
Dorothy: Never called you
that anyway. Foz?
Foz: Familiar name of FOS
(Fuzzy Orange Slippers). Foz sounded better than Fos.
Dorothy: Oh. What do I do
now?
Foz: You follow the
disgruntled yellow brick road.
Spotting the road, Dorothy
steps onto it, or, rather, since she's wearing Foz on her feet, Foz steps onto
it. The road immediately starts to talk.
Road: I hate my job. No one
ever thinks of the road. Everyone walks all over me. I have a new motto,
"Don't Tread on Me!" No one pays attention to my motto. I don't even
get regular street cleaning...
Dorothy & Foz: SHUT
UP!!!!!
The road, believing in the
most wonderful concept of self-preservation, stops talking after Dorothy and Foz
show off the wonderful capacity of their lungs. Time passes...
Foz: After this I'm going to
join Dr. Scholl's Odor Eater of the Day club...
Dorothy: I'm bored. Where are
we going?
Foz: We're going to the
Green-Tinted Plastic City of Aahz.
Dorothy: Don't you mean the
Emerald City?
Foz: Budget cuts.
Dorothy: Oh.
More time passes... Dorothy
and her slippers are strolling past a run-down soy farm.
Scarecrow: Oh the shame of it
all! Me, the Mighty Kazuma Kuwabara a scarecrow, stuck on a post in a run-down
soy field!
Upon spotting the nuisance,
Foz suggests to Dorothy that, since straw makes wonderful kindling, and the
funny man is already on a stake (okay, post, same difference), how 'bout a
burning?
Dorothy: No.
Foz: Please?
Dorothy: No. Maybe we can get
him down.
Dorothy starts to move
towards the scarecrow but her feet refuse to move. Actually, her shoes refuse to
move.
Dorothy: This isn't funny.
Let me walk.
Foz: No.
Dorothy: Please?
Foz: No. It would be cruel
and unusual punishment to the rest of the population. I won't have anything to
do with it.
Dorothy: By refusing to allow
me to get him down you are interfering and therefore having something to do with
it.
Foz: Gosh darn, a loophole!
You win.
They help the scarecrow down
from his post (or stake, whichever you prefer).
Scarecrow: Thanks! My butt
was falling asleep! I am the Mighty Kazuma Kuwabara! Who're you?
Dorothy: I'm Dorothy in this
fic. I'm going to the Green-Tinted Plastic City of Aahz.
Foz: And I'm the Most
Wonderful, Fantastic, Magical Fuzzy Orange Slippers. You may call me Foz.
Kuwabara: Oh great, talking
shoes. Who made you wear that fashion crime?
Foz: I'm not a fashion crime!
Dorothy: A word of advice,
don't insult the slippers, they know of the concept of revenge.
Kuwabara: Ha hahahahahaha!!!
Fuzzy orange slippers! BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Foz: You disin' the shoes
punk?
Kuwabara ignores Foz and
continues to laugh.
Foz: That's it! CARROT
BOMB!!!
After and exploding *ZOICK*,
the sticky orange scarecrow stops laughing.
Kuwabara: Why you little,
good for nothing, balls of fuzz...
Foz, sensing the danger,
takes advantage of the fact that she is a pair of shoes, and makes Dorothy run
at an amazing rate down the disgruntled yellow brick road, with Kuwabara
trailing behind.
Part 3 ~ The Wonderful
Talking Oil Can
Our traveling peoples (okay,
person, scarecrow, and slippers) are now in a stretch of forest. Having made
Kuwabara and Foz call a truce (Foz kept on kicking Kuwabara and Kuwabara kept
stepping on Foz - which greatly damaged Dorothy's feet), Dorothy walks along,
grumbling.
Voice from unknown source:
MMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!!
Kuwabara: Who said that?
Foz: The voice from the
unknown source, dummy. Yeesh, don't you ever read the script?
Kuwabara: Who are you calling
a dummy?!?!
Foz: Since I was answering
your idiotic question, it's obvious that _you_ are the dummy.
Kuwabara: Huh?
Voice from unknown source:
MMMPPPPHHH!!!!
Dorothy: Look, it's an Tin
Man!
Foz, having been hit against
a hard object in Dorothy's excitement, takes a good look at the object, then at
the foil man.
Foz (in know-it-all
Rutherford voice): The man appears to be made of aluminum foil, _not_ tin.
Apparently, due to the fact that there are often salt-water rain showers in this
area, his joints have oxidized. I suggest using this oil communicator to
lubricate the stuck parts. I also suggest providing this wrapped-like-a-sandwich
man with some garments as his clothing appears to have rotted away.
Kuwabara, Dorothy, voice from
known source, & oil can: Huh?
Foz: He's rusted and you need
to use the oil can to put oil on the joints so he can move. He needs clothes
because he's nude.
Waking up, the girl and
scarecrow leap to action. They immediately grab some snazzy clothes from the
prop guys and use the oil can on the man's joints. In minutes, the shiny guy has
had a make-over - sort of.
Voice from known source:
Thanks. I've been like that for a few decades now. I see you have found Jean,
the talking oil can.
Oil can: That's Jeannie! And
I'm not an oil can, I'm a genie stuck in an oil can! Kiss the can and I'll come
out and grant you each a wish!
Voice from known source:
Don't listen to her, she's always trying to get people to kiss her, apparently
she was a hot babe in some past life. Hullo, I'm Kurama.
Foz, look sadly at oil can:
Oh, you too? You've been reincarnated as an inanimate object also? Poor thing, I
understand your suffering, I'm going through it myself.
Dorothy: Hi Kurama. We're
going to the Green-Tinted Plastic City of Aahz because we're on a quest or
something. I'm Dorothy, the sex-changed girl, this is Kuwabara, the egotistical
scarecrow, and on my feet are/is/whatever Foz the
talking-slippers-who-are-not-so-egotistical-as-Kuwabara-but-still-pretty-bad.
Foz & Kuwabara: HEY!!!
Jean: I'm a genie I tell you!
A genie!
Kurama: 'Course you are Jean.
Now come here so I can carry you.
Jean the exasperated oil can
hops over to Kurama and up in to his hand.
Dorothy: You want me to carry
her in this picnic basket?
Kurama: Naw, she's pretty
small, she fits in my pocket.
Jean: Pockets are softer than
baskets.
Foz: Okey dokey. Methinks can
girl has a crush on foil man.
Jean *blush*: Do not!
Foz: Sure you don't. Anything
you say.
The tiny group sets off along
the disgruntled yellow brick road.