Disclaimer: ...I really don't know. Jet lag. Yes- let's go with jet lag.
To my dearest fanfiction writers:
Hello. I shouldn't have to introduce myself, but I will. My name is Shell Thropp. Again, I will repeat- my name is SHELL THROPP. I feel the need to use the slightly vulgar CAPS LOCK OF EMPHASIS because, clearly, YOU PEOPLE HAVE TOTALLY FORGOTTEN WHO I AM. There are no centrics put to my name. There is no pre-Shiz bookverse- even booksicalverse!- stories in which I am mentioned. Type the word 'shell' in the search engine of the Wicked section and what comes up? I'll tell you what comes up- Elphaba, dealing with all the trials and angst in her life, has had to develop a hard outer SHELL so she doesn't get all suicidal and start bathing. Empress G(a)linda, strutting her hot body up and down a boardwalk in the middle of the night, finds a seaSHELL that somehow metaphorically and over-romantically reminds her of her dearest darlingist yet still DEAD lesbian lover.
Now, my dear writers, I'm not saying that Elphaba DIDN'T sneak back into her room one night after her whole dealo with the Wizard went down the drain to try to grab a 16x16 glossy poster of dearest pink poppit, in order to whisk it away back to the Emerald City to secretly make out with it whenever her revolutionary contacts (or Malky) weren't around. I'm just saying, the next time you write a fic ABOUT this you could at least have me come in at the very end and find some clue that she was present there earlier in the night and totally freak out. I'm so desperate I'm not opposed to playing movie!Meg Giry- provided it's a lock of hair or something Elphie leaves behind and not that demonic monkey music box. No. Just no.
Do you now understand just how desolate I am? I am the ONLY- I repeat ONLY- character of the book that does not, in some way, get put in the musical. Yes, Avaric is only Fiyero's little slave couchman- but he's REFERENCED. Yes, neither Father or Mother have names mentioned and die earlier than the did in the previous medium of this storyline, but they too are THERE. Not to mention, do you honestly think Mother remembers her name half the time anyway? Oh yes- I went there. Why shouldn't I? Alright, perhaps that's a little harsh. It's not her fault, I suppose, but Father's. A NORMAL man would, say, throttle the neck of his wife's illegitmate lover. MY DADDY? He- well, I guess in a way he does throttle something of Turtle Heart's- but Oz I won't let my thought process wander into such things.
Speaking of such...relations, I know a number of you are currently protesting the fact that Tibbett and Crope didn't appear in the musical either. To you, I say, HA! FOOLS! THE DRAGON IS NAMED TIBBETT AND THE DRINKS THEY ORDER FROM THE RAT WAITER ARE CALLED CROPES!
As for Liir, well, honestly- my sister was never particularly interested in virtue. Houselights DIM you know, and there's no telling what went on during "As Long As You're Mine" after that point. For all we know, Liir was, in fact, present in the last part of the second act. And even if he wasn't- the dolt has his own BOOK! Who gives an entire BOOK to a child who sold out his OWN MOTHER- your beloved Elphaba, defier of gravity and personal grooming- for a girl he had NEVER EVEN MET?! Granted, she treated him like crap, but she treated EVERYONE like crap- where is the LOYALTY?! Why dare give someone like that his own book! I cannot rant as to whether or not I'm present in this sequel (sequel! it's 'The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West'! LIFE! She DIED in the first book, ergo, NO SEQUEL!) because the kind authoress whom I've kidnapped as a vice to send you this little token of my affection didn't read it. But even if I am, I doubt I do anything worthy of mention, as there are, as previously stated, NO FICS ABOUT ME IN THIS SECTION. WHY? It says when I grow up I like do cool under-groundy spy stuff! That's worth writing about! That sounds like a plot premise that's been used so much it's cliche, only it's NEVER BEEN USED!
And as preShiz!fics are all the rage these days, you'd think I'd be mentioned, if only as a symbol of jealousy for little Elphie and Nessie- male, whole, maybe even hot depending on how pervy the author is!- but alas, there is NOTHING. Not to mention there are only about three asides to me in the entire book: one, my own sister calls me DULL; two, the super-duper spy reference; three: UBER WITTY AND AFFECTIONATE PROVING THAT I AM A GOOD AND KIND-HEARTED SOUL UNLIKE MY SOCIOPATH SISTERS, in which I do some comic-relief communication with my dozing father. That last one is worthy of a small, pointless oneshot in itself.
Now, my dear writers, I see you staring at your computer screen in utter horror at this injustice. You, who so related to my sainted sister for her plight of everyone hating her for no reason, have turned the same mistreatment on to me! Well save your tears, duckies. It's too late now. Little!Cosette and I are going to run away to her castle on a cloud, where no MEAN, NASTY, JUDGEMENTAL AUTHORESS'S WHO ARE PROBABLY IMPLYING SOMETHING DIRTY IN THEIR HEAD'S RIGHT NOW ABOUT ME RUNNING OFF ALL BY MYSELF WITH A GIRL (iick, she has cooties dude) CAN EVER FIND US!
Yours,
Shellofamanbothmommyanddaddylikedubermuchly Turtleheart Thropp