Once upon a time, in the merry old land of Oz, three friends were being tortured by a villainous jester. With their newfound brain, heart, and spine, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion had dedicated their lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil – a dedication that would have continued had they not been caught. Granted, they were caught on purpose, but didn't realize how it would effect them in the long run. You know what? Just go ahead and watch the movie if you haven't already, this is too much to explain.

Ok, so. Since Lion and Tin Man were pretty much knocked out and possibly almost dead (from starvation and extreme rust, respectively), Scarecrow was all alone in the torture chamber. His punishment wasn't really that bad. He could have been on a spit over an open flame. Instead he was cuffed to a wheel with a ring of fire around it. I don't think the flames were close enough to be hot, let alone set him on fire. So he was mainly dizzy from spinning back and forth for a long time.

Maybe his true torture was seeing his two friends growing fainter and weaker as they wasted away. Yes, that must be it. Now I regret saying that his torture wasn't that bad.

I'm getting off track here. This story was meant to be somewhat plausible. Maybe instead of acknowledging that Jester is out to hurt all of Dorothy's friends, we can pretend that it's been Jester and Scarecrow this whole time. Yes, that sounds good. Now Tin Man and Lion are safe, and Jester has captured only Scarecrow, who is, in this version, still cuffed to the wheel. But what is Jester's motivation?

Oh, I know – he thinks that Dorothy and Scarecrow have a thing for each other, so he's convinced that by having Scarecrow, Dorothy will become more determined to get to the castle quickly, and it would also save the work of setting up three separate forms of torture. Jester seems to be an impatient and therefore efficient person, so I'd say it makes sense.

Alright. Now that that's sorted out, let's start over.


Once upon a time, Scarecrow was being tortured by a villainous jester. Normally, Scarecrow would be in the company of his two friends Tin Man and Lion, but they had been spared, as Jester felt that they were unnecessary for his plan of luring the witch-slayer Dorothy to his castle. He had reason to believe that Dorothy and the Scarecrow had certain … feelings for each other. It would be simple to manipulate her with the idea of being reunited with her hay-bale of a boyfriend.

"Having fun, straw man?" Jester asked as he entered the torture chamber via unicycle. He circled the Scarecrow's spinning torture wheel, the faint squeaking of the unicycle's pedals echoing across the room.

Scarecrow had tried to make a snarky reply, but he was too focused on his aching head – a result of spinning around all day. Having a brain was usually the most wonderful thing Scarecrow could think of, and now he would gladly get rid of it to stop his monstrous headache. Yet, he couldn't help but ponder: would removing his brain really end the pain? Considering pain is created by the brain, it sounded probable, but he wasn't sure how he could experience pain at all, seeing as he didn't have any of the proper body parts that could transmit that information to his brain. Or did he? Scarecrow realized that he had never dissected himself before (and wouldn't be willing to, no matter how much he could learn). Was it possible that his muscle tissue had been replaced with straw, and everything else was built the way a human would be? But even then, could he move? And how would the replacing of muscle have happened? Does any of this matter? Why are we here? What is the meaning of –

"EXCUSE ME," Jester screamed into Scarecrow's … ear? "I asked you a question," he said sweetly. Jester jumped off of his unicycle and kicked it at a lever. The lever shifted, stopping the wheel's turn. For Scarecrow, the sudden halt felt worse than the constant turning. His body felt like it was drifting diagonally both away from and towards his head, and his eyes refused to focus. It looked like there were seven Jesters staring in front of him. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

Jester shrieked in horror at Scarecrow's sudden lurching shudder, and heard the sick hit the floor. ...It was oddly muted. As Scarecrow shivered with disgust, Jester peeked at the floor through trembling fingers. His face switched immediately to cheerfulness and he let out a high laugh.

"Really? You vomit hay?" He laughed again and stepped on the hay to hear the dry crunch. "Oh, wow, what a relief! I thought I'd have to chop you up for ruining the floor!" He grinned, then suddenly bellowed ferociously. "YOU!" A flying monkey with a purple mohawk darted into the room. "Clean this up." The monkey casually saluted and picked up the hay, flying out of sight. "Given this turn of events, I suppose I will forgive you for not answering me earlier." Jester leapt nimbly to the top of the wheel, trying his best to balance as it rocked slightly beneath his weight. "Feel better now?"

Scarecrow's head had finally cleared. He decided against ignoring Jester, given his nonchalant threat to chop Scarecrow into pieces, and answered, "Yes, I do. A little."

Jester beamed and somersaulted off of the wheel, now facing Scarecrow. "How marvelous!" Jester took a few bouncing steps forward and laid his head on his victim's shoulder with a sigh. "It really would be a shame to kill you. But I can't say I wouldn't enjoy a nice hay-stuffed mattress!" Jester patted Scarecrow's chest for emphasis. He then skipped to his discarded unicycle and continued to ride it around the chamber.

The mattress comment gave Scarecrow an unexpected sense of anger, and the rush of adrenaline gave him clarity, bravery, and admittedly, some stupidity. As a result, he went against his better judgement and faced his fear of invoking his captor's wrath. "It's not the first time someone has said that to me, Jester," he started. When Jester stopped in his tracks, he continued. "The Wicked Witch of the West made that very same threat years ago." At the mention of his sister's title, Jester's shoulders tensed, and Scarecrow felt his spirit lift at the sight, as if he had made a minor victory though the reaction.

Jester stepped off of the unicycle and laid it down gently. He turned, and to Scarecrow's confusion, a look of exhilaration was spread across his face. "Go ahead and say it, Scarecrow: 'You and your sister are more alike than I realized.'" He cocked his head like an innocent puppy. "That is what you were going to say, isn't it?"

Scarecrow's feeling of triumph had diminished, and he hesitated before replying, "Well... something along those lines." Jester put a finger to his chin and nodded solemnly.

"M-hm, m-hm. Very interesting."

"...Uh... What's... interesting?" Jester's composure was like the quiet before the storm. It took a lot for Scarecrow to keep his voice from shaking.

Jester made his way over to Scarecrow, taking long steps with his hands behind his back. "Merely that you thought... Oh, I don't know. That you were winning for a second there." He smirked with dancing eyes and came to a stop in front of Scarecrow. Jester snapped his fingers, which signaled a flying monkey to bring him his staff – a magic wand made from combining his sister's broomstick and a mysterious orb. Never taking his eyes off of Scarecrow, he smacked the end of the staff into his palm, his face souring. In a flash, he whipped the staff to Scarecrow's neck, the orb glowing maliciously with its power. "I AM IN CONTROL, HERE, PAL," Jester roared, pushing the orb against Scarecrow, who started quaking horribly as he stared unblinkingly at Jester. Jester's expression was venomous when he quietly asked, "You got that?"

Clenching his eyes shut, Scarecrow nodded firmly. When he could still feel the orb's pulsation, he peeked one eye open and saw Jester squinting at him impatiently. "Y—Yes, yes, I understand, I got it," Scarecrow stuttered.

Finally pleased, Jester brought the staff back down. "Good!" he said with a sugary grin. "Alright, I'm outta here. I have to go spy on your friends and whatnot." He waved with a "bye-eee!" and hopped on his staff. When it wouldn't fly he slapped it with a disgruntled mutter until it sped off towards another room in the castle.

Scarecrow was still trembling from shock, his breathing unsteady and his limbs feeling more limp than usual. A good five minutes passed before he was able to take decent breaths and calm himself down.

"What a wack job," he thought, and though he had already known it, he was still overwhelmed by how completely unpredictable Jester could be.

The room's emptiness loomed over Scarecrow. Now that he wasn't spinning on the wheel, he could see just how blank and dreary it was around him. All that decorated the place were some hanging masks spaced evenly along the walls, and goodness knows masks can be creepy as all get out. Scarecrow focused on the floor in front of him instead.

One may ask, if Scarecrow is very smart, wouldn't he have thought of a way out of this situation? Yes and no. Unfortunately, he had already tried his plans to no avail. His strength was nowhere near the force necessary to break the cuffs attaching him to the wheel. Even if he did detach himself, the flames skirting the wheel as he spun would keep him from moving forward without injury. He had even attempted to tear his body by biting his shoulder and tugging while his hand clamped to its cuff. Again, he simply wasn't strong enough. It was all very depressing. He hoped to see Dorothy, Tin Man, and Lion again soon, but he was afraid for them; obviously, the Jester had planned for them to come to Scarecrow's aid. He didn't want to think about what Jester would do once they were all in his grasp.

Scarecrow shut his eyes and let out a long breath. He had something else on his mind. But what? It was an odd and uncomfortable feeling, one he had hoped to be fleeting, and it nagged at him to address it properly.

Excitement.

He had felt the excitement of surprise or happiness before. It was not a new sensation. But in this instance, it was not what would be considered an everyday reaction; what had excited him was the Jester. Specifically, the way the Jester had spoken to him, how he had been demanding and threatening – his frightening dominance both shocked and captivated Scarecrow.

Little did he know, that was only the beginning.