Chapter Three has arrived! Please read and review! Let me repeat: please read AND review!

Disclaimer: Sorry, I still don't own Oz, Dorothy, Glinda, Nessa, or the Munchkins. Of course, I do own Bob since I made him up and all.

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"Gasp!" gasped Bob.

As one, all the Munchkins in Munchkinland stepped from their houses. Bob figured they had heard the commotion and wanted to see if there was anyone to point at, laugh at, or possibly, both. Oddly, they were all dressed in what appeared to be their Halloween costumes. Three Munchkin girls were even in tutus. They assembled in front of the farmhouse that was now a part of the landscape and peered at what was hanging out from under it. All that could be seen of the Witch was from the shin down.

"Who was she?" asked one of the Munchkins, gesturing to the feet.

"Who cares?" another Munchkin replied, "Anyone with stockings like those deserve to die!"

"Well, since Munchkins enjoy stereotypes, which is a stereotype in itself, I think we should assume that she was a witch!"

"Yes! After all, witches are old and ugly."

"She did say she was a witch," Bob said.

"Well, there you go then, our stereotypes never fail us!"

Suddenly, the doorknob on the farmhouse began to turn.

Every last Munchkin (except Bob) catapulted into some bushes that looked suspiciously to be made of plastic. Being so short and defenseless, Munchkins had evolved a great reaction time. Bob, however, a bit slow in every aspect, didn't move.

The farmhouse door opened and a young girl wearing a dress that appeared to have been made from a blue picnic blanket stepped out. Her dark hair was in braids and a small, rather nasty little dog yipped from her ankles.

"Oh my God," she breathed, "Toto, I think that I should say something terribly cliché about how we aren't in Kansas anymore, but look! This place has color! I've spent all my life being in black and white, and I didn't even know what color this dress is. I wear it every day! Now, I can rejoice in its blueness, although how I know that it is blue when I've never seen, or even heard of color, I've no idea."

About this time, she turned around and saw Bob. He had finally tried to hide, but the plastic daisy he was crouching behind only hid his nose.

"Hallo!" she said brightly.

"You can't see me!" he yelled, hiding his eyes behind his hands.

"Er…well, could you maybe tell me where I am?"

"Oh, certainly," he said, straightening up. "You are in Oz...Well, Munchkinland to be exact."

"What's an Oz?"

He scratched his chin. "Y'know, they never really told me."

"Hey, what's that up there?" she asked, pointing heavenward dramatically.

"Oh by the Unnamed God, not another pregnant bird!" he cried.

"No, it's more like an enormous bubble."

"Hehe. 'Bubble.' That's a funny word," he giggled.

The enormous bubble, for indeed that was what it was, drifted closer. However, it appeared to be fighting against the wind, making its approach very slow.

"This could take a while," said Bob.

Alas, he had chosen this time of all others to be right, and the bubble continued on…very…slowly. Much foot tapping and pacing ensued.

By the time it at last had arrived, Bob had managed to fall asleep. When the bubble popped gigantically, he woke immediately.

"Whatsamatter?" he asked stupidly. He looked up to see a woman, all in pink, a silver wand in hand, who looked rather irritated. Her puffy gown was soaked with bubble fluid, (you know, that nasty soapy stuff that you blow into to make bubbles) and she was panting slightly.

"Those bubbles are a pain in the wand!" she said angrily, "They're almost impossible to steer! I though I would just drop by since I found Nessa's, or as she's taken to calling herself lately, the Wicked Witch of the East's coffee mug. Who would've known it would be so difficult to get here?"

The girl in the blue picnic blanket just stared at the woman who was talking to herself.

The woman turned around a few seconds later and saw the girl standing with her mouth agape.

"You're rather tall for a Munchkin," the puffy pink woman pointed out.

The girl continued to stare.

"Don't stare! It makes me paranoid."

The girl continued to stare.

"Well, have you seen Ness--I mean, the Wicked Witch of the East?"

The girl continued to stare.

"I think I have, your Puffiness," Bob spoke up.

"Well, where is she?"

"Under the house," Bob said.

"Munchkins have cellars?" the woman asked.

"Well…not exactly," he admitted. He gestured to the farmhouse.

"That's a funny looking house, why are you--SWEET OZ! THOSE ARE NESS--THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST'S SHOES AND HIDEOUS STOCKINGS!"

"Yes," Bob agreed calmly.

"Ness--I mean Wicked Witch of the East! Get out from under that house!"

"I don't think she can," Bob said.

"But why?" the woman asked.

"Well, you remember the puppy that you undoubtedly had when you were little?"

"Yes…but I don't see where you're going with this--"

"Remember how it 'ran away?'"

"Yes…but I still don't see where you're going with th--"

"It didn't really run away."

"Whaddayou mean?" she asked.

"It got hit by a carriage," he told her.

"Argh! Fluffy!" she cried, "But, I still don't see where you're going with this."

"The same thing happened to the Wicked Witch of the East."

"She got hit by a carriage?"

"Well, no, but she did get hit by a pregnant bir--Er, a farmhouse," he said.

"So she's…?" the woman asked barely breathing.

"Dead, yes," he said rather insensitively.

"WAHHH! WHO'S HOUSE IS THAT?" the woman yelled.

"Mine, I think," the girl piped up.

"You killed Ness--the Wicked Witch of the East!"

"Not purposefully."

"Well, I'll forgive you. She was starting to get on my nerves anyway. So, are you a good witch or a bad witch? And, I'm Glinda, by the way."

"I'm Dorothy Gale, and I'm not a witch. I'm just the young girl character that everyone is supposed to love even though I am faintly annoying at times. Besides, witches are old and ugly."

Behind the plastic rhododendron, the Munchkins giggled.

"I told you stereotypes never fail," one of them whispered, "That's ironic, that is."

"AHHH! LAUGHING BUSHES!" Dorothy screamed.

"No, no, that's just the Munchkins. And not all witches are old and ugly. In fact, I'm a witch," Glinda struck a pose.

"Are you saying that you aren't old and ugly?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes! I'm beautiful! Don't you think so?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Never mind," Glinda huffed, then she said in a stage whisper, "Now, how can I get rid of her?"

"I heard that, you know! And you can get rid of me by telling me how to get home," Dorothy said.

"Well, how about you go see the Wizard? Just follow the yellow. Not too difficult," Glinda said.

"But, I don't look like someone from here! Everyone will stare at me!"

"Ok, ok, um…how about you take the shiny shoes?" Glinda asked.

"Shiny!" Dorothy and Bob said together.

"Ok, I'll take the shoes," Dorothy agreed.