AFTER WICKED: Scene 1 (Maleficent)

(A Blind Date With the {Former} "Mistress of All Evil" )

I know what you're thinking. You don't have to say it, it's already perfectly clear, I'm pathetic, I'm sitting here waiting to get stood up by a stock boy for Rack Room shoes. What's a girl to do? We all have needs, we all have wants. And dammit, I'm gonna get mine tonight….as soon as he gets here. And, y'know what, even if he doesn't, I'm still getting breadsticks. There's nothing wrong with breadsticks, they're phallic enough to- oh thank God! I was about to hang myself with the table cloth….

A tall, lanky man in a pink collared shirt sat down opposite me. He's not quite what I was expecting, but then again if I didn't wake up in a tub looking for my liver, he was never going to live up to my expectations.

"Matilda?" He asked. He looked around the room as if some part of him was hoping I wasn't going to respond.

"Ryan? It's so great to finally meet you." I smiled at him.

Sure it's great to meet him, I've always fantasized about being sexually disappointed by an Abercrombie scented Ichabod Crane. And it looked like my dreams were about to come true. Or, they would if the bastard could look me in the eye.

"Are you alright?"

If he buys my concern, then he's stupider than he looks. Word to the wise, boys. If a woman asks you "are you alright" she's really asking you "what's your problem?" It's not concern, it's annoyance.

"I'm great. It's just….never mind."

Oh, hell no! This mother fucker is not playing passive aggressive before the goddamn entrees are served, no no no!

"No, what's the problem?"

"It's just...you don't really look like your picture."

I know he didn't just say that shit. You don't wanna play the "you aren't your profile" game with me, honey. I never knew "a well hung Peyton Manning type" had so much in common with PeeWee Herman.

"Tits not as big?"

"It's not that."

Ass man. He's an ass man.

"Butt not bootylicious enough?"

Did I really just use the words "bootylicious"? Oh brother...

"No, you're fine."

"Then what's your problem, dude?"

"You're green! Your skin is green!"

Racist motherfucker! Yes my skin is green, I'm the fucking Mistress of All Evil, or I used to be at least. Now, I'm avoiding eye contact with a gumby doll that undoubtedly lives in his mother's basement.

"Oh, that...it's nothing, let's just order."

I'm green, da ba dee da ba da, da ba dee daba da.

"Really? I mean, it's not every day you go out to dinner with the Wicked W-"

She who must not be named….

"I'm not her."

"Sorry, I've just never heard of another green person."

Kermit the frog, Jolly Green-Giant, The Incredible Anger Management, Swamp Ogre. Take your pick, bitch! She's not the only one.

"No, there are others."

"You know now that you mention it, you do seem kind of familiar."

Please don't figure it out….

"Like, I just can't seem to put my finger on it…"

A spindle. You can't put your finger on a spindle…

"Have you ever heard the story of Sleeping Beauty?"

Ryan does a double take. The garlic on his breadstick flies off in every direction.

"You're the witch...:"

"Dark fairy, actually. I mean, if you want to get technical, but yea...that's me."

"Why do you go by Matilda?"

"Maleficent doesn't allow for a lot of play. Besides, you'd be amazed how few people can spell and/or pronounce it. Matilda is just easier, doesn't sound quite so bloodcurdling evil."

Also, I'd rather people think about a cute little bookworm instead of Angelina Jolie in vinyl. I already get enough "are you horny" jokes without the image of a sexy actress in tight black clothes.

"I think Maleficent is a pretty name."

And I bet you also think toys come to life when you're not looking, or that paint chips have nutritional value.

"Thanks."

"If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here."

"I love New York?"

"No, I mean in reality."

"Because I'm a human being..."

"Aren't you a fairy tale character?"

If you know what I can do, do you really think pissing me off is a good strategy?

"I was a fairy tale character, but since I couldn't be a villain anymore, I switched fields. I'm in pharmaceuticals."

"Pharmaceuticals."

"Well, it was either that or mattress sales, but at least with pharmaceuticals no one questions why you have a crow on your shoulder. They're usually so fucked up on Zoloft and Prozac that they barely know I'm even in the room. You people have that shit down. I had to forcibly make a kingdom sleeping zombies for a 100 years, here all it takes is a housewife with too much time and too much money. I don't have to worry about tricking them into pricking their fingers on spinning wheels, they purposely prick themselves with Botox so they can look "rested." I was a sucker..."

"Why couldn't you be a villain?"

"Villains don't exist."

"Neither do you, but yet...here you sit."

"No, I mean "villains" don't exist anymore. They've been rendered obsolete. They're like the travel agents of archetypes. We know they existed once, but you haven't seen a real one since the 90s."

"I've seen lots of villains recently. The Joker...come on, everybody loves the Joker."

Is this how far I've fallen? I'm getting compared to a psychopath who wears more makeup then a domestically abused drag queen.

"Don't be stupid, he's not real. That would be ludicrous."

"Less ludicrous than a blind date with a fairy tale witch?"

"Obviously. Look, it's simple. People just can't buy that someone is just a bad person anymore. We all have to have some tragic backstory, we can't just be villains...do you have any idea how frustrating that is? I'm not misunderstood, I'm not morally ambiguous, I'm evil. I'm an evil, wicked bitch, there's not much more to me. Yet, people seem to be concerned with what led me to do evil shit. Because I'm evil, bitch. I'm a witch. That's what we do."

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

"See! You're doing it too! Would you care about my well-being if I'd cursed a toddler instead of ordering bread?"

"Wait, you really did-"

"Of course I did, I didn't get invited to their party, so my totally proportionate response was to curse their newborn baby. Anyone would do that. Do you have any idea the kind of strings you have to pull to get an E-vite hookup in the fairy tale world? I do, and it's totally worth it to get invited to the biggest gathering of the year. I'm a ton of fun at parties...you can shotgun a six-pack? That's cute, I can turn into a real-as-fuck dragon and still do more tequila shots than a UCLA sorority slut, so I don't know why Stefan didn't want me there. I make things so much better. I was pissed, I reacted rashly, but ultimately I stuck to it for 16 years."

"You don't really turn into a dragon, do you?"

"Do you really want me to prove it to you..."

"I just mean, I'm sure it's like some existential thing. You're not really turning into a dragon, you're just pissed off."

This bitch...is he serious? I've eaten better looking men than him...

"No, I turn into a dragon, breathe fire and eat people. Now, let's order dinner..."

"Well, I guess we know if it gets cold, we're all set..."

Woah...look out kids, we got us a comedian...

"What are you going to get?"

"Umm...I don't know maybe some kale, kale's delicious, it has such a rich color...I don't know when we decided-"

Why the hell is he talking about kale like some agro-crack head?

"Or maybe spinach. I like spinach, do you like spinach? Lettuce? Cucumbers?"

The fuck is his problem?

"Maybe a green tea?"

Ok, I think somebody needs a 12-step...wait...

"Are you just listing foods that are green?"

"What do you people eat?"

Oh my God...I'm going to be lynched before the night's over...

"Let me get his straight, you think because my skin is green, that I prefer to eat things that look like me...would you ask Beyonce is she was partial to caramels? Racist son of a bitch..."

"I'm sorry, I just don't know how to operate around someone who-"

"Looks a little different than you?"

"It's not that simp-"

"My darling, listen well...it's not my skin color you need to worry about...I can wield all the powers of he-"

Just as I was about to give it to him, a loud, shrill voice erupted around me.

"Oh my God! Matilda!

Now is one of the moments that I wish I could just disappear in a cloud of smoke like the old days.

"Janet...how are you, honey?"

Everyone works with a Janet. You don't need a calendar around her, you need only look to what god-awful sweater she's wearing to indicate what holiday is coming up (except Valentine's day, there are just new cat pictures to denote that it's time.) You know her, she brings "granny's lemon squares" then skulks around forcing you to ask her for the recipe. She is filled with enough motivational sayings that Hallmark's headhunter is following her everywhere. In other words, she's the worst human being...and from me, that means something.

"I'm doing wonderfully, who is this!?"

"Ryan."

"Oh, very handsome. You'll have to give me a blow by blow on Monday..."

Oh, right...and she thinks everyone she ever meets is her best friend. Some people really need to get laid...nevermind, I can't stomach that image right now...

"Yea, well it was gr-"

"Isn't she just the greatest, I mean Matilda here is the number one sleep-aid pharmaceutical rep in the state! People just can't help but fall asleep around her...it's almost like magic."

Not nearly close enough. I wonder what Janet would look like with a rat tail or a horse's face. Ooh! Maybe I could slowly turn her into a lizard, but then just convince her it's eczema. That way, I get to curse someone and make a nice commission.

"I'm sure your cat is getting hungry, you don't want to let her starve."

"Oh, see, she is just the sweetest thing, she really is. Always thinking about others. I'll tell Mr. Mittles you said hi, Mattie."

"You do that. See you Monday, Janet."

Janet smiled at us and waddled away. The only time I've ever seen Janet move faster than an inebriated penguin was when she heard an ice-cream truck bell. Ryan furrowed his brow and averted his gaze.

"Look, Matilda...Maleficent, I don't think this is going to work out..."

This will be a new record, broken up with before our drinks arrive. Story of my life...well, not literally, there really are stories of my life, this is a footnote.

"Ok, well I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, but..."

"Try not to turn anyone into a goon on your way home..."

"Try not to blow away."

Ryan rolled his eyes and got up from the table.

Honestly, this is how it is now. Villains used to have a stake in culture and in life, but now we're all jokes or basket cases. People aren't afraid of us, they're concerned for us. Sympathy for the Devil, as it were. And who do we have to blame for this? The Green Bitch of the West herself, she couldn't handle being evil anymore and sought out Gregory Maguire to change her lot in life, to tell her imaginary side of the story, and poof! Now every villain has to be redeemable or a down-right hero and it makes me sick. Mistress of all Evil does not reflect well on the whole hero-schtick. Long story short, all of the villains that you once loved are now working in menial jobs and living lives in the real world. I'm a pharmaceutical rep, Ursula runs a shoe store "Poor Unfortunate Soles," Cruella is a spokesmodel for PETA, Jafar and Gaston have finally confessed their love for one another and the Wicked Bitch herself is on broadway. We've always lost before, but now...now we've really sunk as low as possible. We're all gonna tell you our stories, and then...then we're gonna take back our mantle. We're going to kill the Wicked Witch of the West. Off with her head...