No one ever gives me credit for what I believe to be my greatest accomplishment.

Everyone seems to think it was a miracle that the whopper-cyclone suddenly appeared and swept a house to Oz and killed the Witch. It wasn't. Tornadoes don't just randomly appear and throw you over the rainbow. I am a very bad wizard, but I'm still in tune with nature. Because of our close friendship, if I ask nicely, I can control the weather.

I needed the Witches dead. I wanted so badly to return home. And the only way the Ozians could even consider letting me fly back over the rainbow was if the Wicked Witches were well and truly dead. And those Witches are much better at magic than I. True, I can change the weather, but they can do much more.

So I had to make it look like an accident. I used my friendship with nature to discover that back in my very own home, there was a girl. Twelve years old, red hair, orphaned. Dorothy was her name. Even better, she wanted so desperately to leave Kansas, to actually fly "over the rainbow." It seemed that the Unnamed God wanted me to go home. The rest was fairly simple. I waited until Dorothy was away, then asked the weather to change. A tornado.