The picket signs were held up, flying through the sky, dawning the streets if New York City. Flying monkeys were unemployed and growing restless. With the new cyber age, no one needed to employ such creatures. They could not work as curriers-- they ended up damaging the mail. They was no room for them as terrorists-- America had enough of those already. They couldn't be assassins because, quite frankly, those beating wings of theirs were counter-productive for the job.

So they remained unemployed; unable to collect social security. No food stamps or special government consideration for them-- hell, they couldn't even write. And what use would the government have for setting up a flying monkey with a job?

Whoever thought that the murder of an amphibious witch would cause such strife for an army of flying monkeys? Who would take care of them after she was gone? Had she had a plan in mind? Perhaps life insurance where the monkeys would gain some type of referendum for the death of their master? The fact was, Elphaba thought she was immortal.

(Or could become so.)

Why spend more than you can afford on a life insurance policy when you never plan on dying? Or being assaulted by a bucket of water by a goody-two-shoes in sparkling ruby slippers? Who wants to die that way?

But the witch was dead. The monkeys remained unemployed. The streets of some of the biggest cities in the world would be terrorized. Perhaps the monkeys would learn a thing or two from Peeves and simply mock and throw things at passersby (or do they already do this?)

Surely the wizard of Oz would be able to help the monkeys-- our genetic brother. They may have done wrong, but the monkeys could always claim insanity; because who wouldn't want to do numerous, perhaps unspeakable, things for a woman who is played by Idina Menzel in the Broadway? Her voice is gorgeous.