FURY OF A FARM GIRL
"You lying goddamn cunt!" Dorothy spat, turning on Glenda, standing there in her stupid poofy dress with a befuddled look on her face.
"Um, that should have worked," the good witch stammered. "Maybe you should try again."
Dorothy did try again, with the same result. Or the same lack of result, as it were. The residents of the Emerald City who had originally gathered to watch Dorothy depart with the Wizard in his hot air balloon then stuck around to watch her whisked away by her magical shoes were all whispering amongst themselves, the sound spreading through the courtyard like the passage of a snake through high, dry grass.
The farm girl threw her basket on the ground, and her mangy little dog bolted to hide underneath Glenda's voluminous skirt. "Any other bright ideas, you stupid witch?"
"Seriously, believe me, that should have done the trick. Those shoes are imbued with the power to take the wearer wherever he or she most desires. Perhaps you don't desire to return to Kansas."
"Are you out of your fucking mind? You really think I want to stay in this cracked nightmare of a world? From the moment I got here, I've been chased after by some hook-nosed, green-faced psycho would wanted to kill me for my shoes, and they're not even Manolo Blahniks. You had me schlepping who knows how many miles down that yellow brick road in the single most uncomfortable pair of shoes ever created. I swear I have blisters on my feet bigger than the munchkins. Then when I get here, there's just some sideshow barker hiding behind a curtain who has no real powers, so the journey was for nothing. And you show up and tell me my shoes could have carried me home at any time, and believe me it was all I could do not to punch you in the left tit over you keeping that little tidbit a secret all this time. And now I find out that even that was a lie."
Glenda opened her mouth, but she seemed not to be able to think of a retort and closed her mouth again. She looked back toward the girl's three traveling companions for help.
"Now Dorothy," the Scarecrow said, stepping toward her, "perhaps you can—"
"Shut your painted-on trap, you Halloween reject. I put up with you three just so a girl could have a little company on the road, and you guys reminded me of these three farmhands I used to let gangbang me back home. But I can't say any of you provided me with much satisfaction."
A collective gasp swept through the crowd.
"That's right, everybody," Dorothy said, projecting so everyone could hear. "The Scarecrow here is as limp as they come. At least the Tin Man stays hard, but just when we get to working up a good sweat, he rusts through. And the Lion, well he only seems to want to take me from behind, and I think we all know what his deal is."
A lot of nods and murmurs of assent.
The good witch gathered herself up and stepped forward. "Dorothy please, if you'll just—"
The girl suddenly reached out and snatched Glenda's wand from her hand, then stuck the pointy end up under the witch's chin. "Enough bullshit. Tell me why the shoes didn't work, and if you say you don't know, I'm going to slit your throat open from ear to ear."
At first Glenda seemed paralyzed with fear, but then she licked her lips and said, "Of course this is just a theory, but perhaps the power of the shoes was directly tied in to the two sisters, the Witch of the East and the Witch of the West. With both of them now dead, perhaps the power of the shoes has died along with them."
"Well fuck it all to hell," Dorothy said, breaking the wand over a knee. "I guess you'll just have to send me back in one of those little bubbles you fly around everywhere in."
"I can't, my power does not extend outside of Oz."
"So you're saying I'm stuck here…forever?"
"It's possible."
Before Glenda even had time to react, Dorothy lashed out and punched her right in the nose. Blood gushed in steaming crimson waterfalls from her nostrils. Then Dorothy grabbed the Tin Man's axe and proceeded to hack into the Scarecrow until he was nothing but a pile of shredded clothes and scattered straw. The Lion ran out through the crowd, screaming like a girl. The Tin Man burst into tears and immediately froze his face.
Clutching the axe, Dorothy growled, "Come on, Toto, we're getting the fuck outta this lame city."
As she started to walk away, the crowd parting for her like a virgin's thighs on her wedding night, the dog trailing behind her, Glenda called out, "But where will you go?", her voice distorted by her broken nose.
Fixing Glenda with a poisonous glare over her shoulder, Dorothy said, "I know of a job opening in the West."