IX: Kind Hearts, Strong Brains, and a Lot of Courage

AUTHOR'S ADVISORY:

Once again, we're making a major deviation here from one of the many resolutions that went into The Tin Woodman of Oz, this one dealing with the resolution of the Nimmie Amee plotline, which came to a rather unique conclusion in the original story.

Here, however, ol' Emperor Nick should find the outcome a bit more satisfactory…


At long last, the tin carriage finally pulled up near the home of Nimmie Amee, this according to the directions Dorothy had given Betsy. They found that the home was a sweet little cottage about a mile from the edge of the dreaded desert region. It was perhaps the last visage of humble beauty before the grasslands began their dissolve in vibrance, becoming the soft and pale brown soil that came before the border, and the dangerous, sandy wastes beyond it.

Scraps planted her chin on Nick's tin shoulder. "Well? What'cha waitin' for?"

Nick blinked, an expression of uncertainty on his tin-plated face. "I know I should get right up and go…but there's a part of me that wants to stay right here, too. It's…strange."

"Sounds like you're nervous t' me." Betsy noted. "I think you'll be jus' fine."

Scraps looked to Betsy curiously. "You think if he throws up, he'll throw up oil?"

Betsy frowned. "Scraps! C'mon. Be nice."

Scraps, however, was giggling wildly. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Nick rose from his seat at the controls, however, and stepped before Betsy. "You should give my joints another coat of oil, just in case."

The Oklahoma girl nodded, and opened Nick's chest to pull out the oilcan, after which Betsy applied a fresh coat to each of the tin emperor's joints, including his mouth, and every digit of the fingers on his hands. Once Betsy was done, the oilcan went back in the chest compartment, and she closed the lid.

He then tested his movements, moving every joint he had. Not a single sound emerged from his joints as he did. "There. Quiet as a mouse."

"You're all set." Betsy confirmed.

"I still think he should take an oil pan with him." Scraps mused. "Just in case."

Betsy rolled her eyes as the patchwork girl mercilessly giggled. Nick began his approach to the door of the cottage, his unblinking eyes staring forward. Were it possible for a tin man to show any hint of nervousness, such a tin man would look exactly like Nick did in that moment.

"I'm sure glad you're gonna be behind me, Betsy." Nick remarked, hesitating in his approach.

"We are? OH. I forgot t' tell you." Betsy placed an arm around Scraps, gripping her shoulder tightly as she smiled to Nick. "You're goin' in alone."

"No, he isn't." Scraps protested.

"Yes, he is." Betsy countered.

"No, he isn't."

"Yes, he is."

The front door of the cottage suddenly opened during the repeated back-and-forth protest between the patchwork and the Oklahoma girl, and a very pretty female munchkin in a lovely dress embroidered with flower designs stepped out, looking somewhat confused. "What's all this racket out…"

Nick's eyes immediately turned to Nimmie's, and it seemed as if time had stopped between them. Both were speechless in their moment of recognition.

Betsy and Scraps had also frozen upon seeing Nimmie emerge from her cottage. The young munchkin's curious gaze eventually redirected to the both of them, and then back to Nick.

Nimmie then smiled. "Friends of yours?"

Nick's head snapped over to Betsy and Scraps, and then turned slowly back to Nimmie. He then nodded his head rapidly in confirmation. The young munchkin could not help but giggle at Nick's inescapably nervous expression.

Betsy smiled, establishing a more firm hold on the patchwork girl. "Don't mind us. We'll jus' wait out here."

"I PROTEST!" Scraps obnoxiously yelled, earning her a human hand over her now-mumbling mouth. The patchwork girl's limbs flailed helplessly in Betsy's tight grip on her stuffed body.

Betsy maintained her grin to Nimmie. "Like I said, don't mind us."


Nimmie shrugged, smiling, and then led Nick inside, closing the door behind them.

Within the house…

"I would offer you tea, but…well, as I remember how you are now, things like food and drink are no longer a necessity, right?" Nimmie asked, looking up to the larger tin man Nick Chopper had become.

Nick shook his head amusedly. "Not anymore. I can go all day and all night without sleep, too. It's always been as unique an existence as the Scarecrow's, actually."

Nimmie nodded. "And now, you're the great emperor of the Winkie lands. I always knew you'd be destined for something big, Nicholas. And in a taller body, to boot."

Nick nodded, looking at Nimmie for a long moment. The soft curls of her hair were just as he remembered them when he saw her last, and her eyes were just as ocean blue as she smiled upon him. "I miss you, Nimmie. So many things I wanted to say to you. Talk to you about. Now, here I am, and I'm struggling to recollect them."

"I suppose that's to be expected of a relationship cut short, Nicholas. Cut short by…moral responsibilities." Nimmie thoughtfully remarked. "Good ones, too. Ku-Klip told me about the kinds of things you had done while I was with him. It didn't surprise me that you would be a selfless leader."

"They were the ones who made me their emperor, though. They insisted." Nick amusedly explained. "Told me they would accept no other. They wanted someone as heartfelt and as charitable as they believed me to be to take the winkies out of their dark times as prisoners of the tyranny of the Wicked Witch of the West. Someone who could be a…a beacon."

"Well, being made of tin, you sure could shine like one under bright sunlight." Nimmie giggled, as did Nick. "So you say that they thought you were heartfelt and charitable. Do you agree, Nicholas?"

After a moment of thought, Nick shrugged. "I can only be as heartfelt and as charitable as any munchkin could be, Nimmie. Whether I'm in a body made of tin or not."

Nimmie nodded, smiling, fairly satisfied with Nick's answer. "You remember when I told you that even though you were a tin man from head to toe, that I still thought you looked handsome?"

Nick nodded. "I remember."

"Do you know why I said that, Nicholas?" Nimmie then asked. "Because even though you looked so very much different, you never let it change the man inside there." She poked at Nick's tin-plated chest area. "Even when I tried to tell you that you didn't need a heart."

Nick nodded again, this time with a look of shame on his face. "I remember being so stubborn about it. I told you I should never return to you until I got the heart I wanted…but it was a very dear friend, who only recently returned to Oz, who told me something I never forgot since he spoke those words."

Nimmie listened curiously, tilting her head.

"He told me that a heart is not judged by how much I love, but by how much I am loved by others, Nimmie."

Nimmie nodded, very much in agreement with the words of wisdom Oscar Diggs had given the former munchkin woodsman upon rewarding him with the heart-shaped clock.

"That man gave me a clock in the shape of a heart." Nick added. "When it stopped ticking during the time I spent guiding the winkies through their restoration period, I feared I would become more cold-hearted. That I would lose what I had earned."

"But you didn't, did you, Nicholas?"

Nick shook his head, smiling. "I didn't feel any differently then compared to now. I guess that's because I knew what I was doing was…was keeping me in touch with the person I always want to be. The kind of person the winkies wanted for a ruler. I could never say I'm the most perfect ruler they ever had, I mean…just like any man, munchkin or otherwise, I have my failings. I can accept that I can always try to be the best ruler I can be. If I ever, for one minute, felt like I was perfect, like I was better than any ruler in the land, that would go against everything I try to be, Nimmie."

Visibly pleased with Nick's wisdom, she stepped in closer to the tin emperor. "One of the things I feared about seeing you again, Nicholas, was that you might have changed in some way. That you might have let the business of being a leader ruin that dear, sweet munchkin man you once were in some way. From what you're telling me, I can see that this hasn't happened."

Nick smiled. "I can tell you something else that has not changed." He then lowered to a knee in front of the beautiful young munchkin. "I still love you, Nimmie Amee. You have always been in my thoughts in some way, and I knew what would make you smile, and what would not, and I have tried to do things which I know you would smile about. I have never loved any others in your absence, and I have waited for this one moment to tell you…once again…how I truly feel about you."

Nimmie placed her hands on the tin emperor's shoulders, beaming happily. "Have you come to take me with you? To the Winkie Country? To take me away from this…humble existence of mine, out here on my own?"

"If you would allow it, Nimmie, I would certainly do this." Nick tenderly replied. "But only if you would allow it."

Nimmie lowered her head, still smiling, but she was thoughtful once again as she turned to a nearby window, slowly approaching it as she spoke. "I don't know, Nicholas. I…suppose I have the Wicked Witch of the East to blame for this, but…I've been pretty content with being on my own. Living this humble life of mine. Being out in the middle of nowhere. It's tough to grow the kinds of things one would produce in the more fertile fields of Munchkinland all the way out here, but…I've made do with what little I could create for myself. I suppose when you've been forced to serve as the maid for a cruel witch, you tend to develop an ability to persevere. To find ways to survive. I still haven't gotten that terrible old crone out of my head, you know. Particularly for all the horrible things I've seen her do to others. I never did fully understand why they did those kinds of things. Why they enjoyed doing them. Why they relished in their cruelty. It made me miss you even more, Nicholas."

"Don't you want to abandon those reminders, Nimmie?" Nick offered, staring upon her eyes earnestly. "If it's a humble life you want, I can give that to you. However you wish to live your life. If you want to have your cottage moved, I can make those arrangements. I'll have it rebuilt if I have to. Make sure it looks exactly as it does here. Not a scrap of tin anywhere, if you didn't want that. Maybe even ask Glinda if she could magically move this place."

Nimmie slowly turned her head back to Nick. "Would you want me to become a tin woman, Nicholas? Or dress me in tin, at least?"

Nick had to hesitate here, knowing he had told Betsy about what he had wanted to do if Nimmie accepted his love. Nevertheless, he continued to speak from the heart the Wizard knew he always had, even if it was not physically there. "I would never do anything you would not want me to do, Nimmie…but I will confess that I had envisioned being able to dress you in a beautiful gown of tin."

Nimmie couldn't help but giggle at this. "Tin gowns are best suited for tin women, I think. You know…there were times I had wondered what it would be like if I were just like you, Nicholas. A woman made of tin. I'd probably even be as tall as you are now."

"You wouldn't have to do that for me, Nimmie." Nick noted.

"Even if that's what I wanted?" Nimmie countered.

"I'd worry, though." Nick replied. "I'd worry that my being what I am might have influenced you in a way that you might…"

Nimmie tenderly placed a finger on Nick's lips, silencing him before he could finish. After a moment, she resumed voicing her thoughts. "You say you would give me whatever I wanted. Whatever would make me happy. There is one thing you could do for me, right now, which I think would make me very happy."

Nick now had an expression of considerable curiosity on his face.

"I want you to kiss me, Nicholas Chopper." Nimmie then revealed. "I don't care if you feel you have to pick me up in your arms, or stay on bended knee. I want to be able to feel the heart you say you have earned for helping that girl from Kansas. I want to know that I am not kissing an emperor or a woodsman when I do. I want to feel Nicholas Chopper's love, and his alone, through your lips."

By the time she had finished speaking, her lips hovered over Nick's. They were very close now, within inches of each other.

His tin lips then connected with hers in the next moment.

Although their thoughts were their own as they lingered in their passionate kiss, they both seemed to be acknowledging the same rationale in that moment. They didn't care who, or what, they were. All they knew, in that moment, was that they loved each other. Even as fleshy lips brushed lovingly against magically-animated tin semblances of them. Nick closed his eyes in hopes of being able to feel as he once felt, and it was to his surprise that he did feel a warmth, and a tenderness, despite his tin body. Perhaps it was the essence of the moment he was feeling, just as he felt in those moments when tears fell from his eyes when he cried for Dorothy's sake, and for Betsy's sake.

For Nimmie's part, she kissed him just as she had in Nick Chopper's days as a flesh-and-blood munchkin…and for all the days in which she longed to see him again, there was little difference now than it was all those years ago. She could still feel that Nick Chopper was there, just as she had suspected since seeing him as a tin man for the first time. He was a little more stubborn back then, refusing to acknowledge love on the excuse that he had no physical heart. Now that Nick had transcended this thinking, she was relieved that he could finally, willingly acknowledge true love despite having a hard metal skin. There was no sense of hesitation or guilt on his part.

Perhaps, she thought to herself as their lips lingered, she could surprise him by somehow becoming that which Nick was, although she did feel that this was something she felt he needed to earn.

For now, however, there was only the genuine love between them.

She smiled warmly when they finally pulled away, and what she said next definitely came from the heart.

"I love you too, Nicholas Chopper."

Nick felt a happy tear fall from his eye as he embraced Nimmie. He could hardly believe this. He thought the moment would end differently. That there would be a rationale that would forever deny them their future together. In their seemingly mutual feelings for one another, however, it seemed that the prospect of a future alongside each other now seemed entirely possible, and he swore to himself in that moment that if he had to, he would move mountains…to the best of his ability to do so…to give Nimmie whatever she desired. Whatever would make her happy.

There was, however, one matter he had wanted to address. One matter that had earned his curiosity ever since his newest friend…the tin soldier…had mentioned it.

He just needed to find the right moment to bring it up.

Nimmie, however, seemed to have similar thoughts in that moment when she spoke once again upon pulling away. "You know…there's another munchkin just like you out there. A man made of tin. A soldier, too. His name is…"

"Fyter?" Nick interjected, an eyebrow raised.

Nimmie smiled. "You've obviously met him, then."

"He told me how it happened." Nick settled into a seat. "A curse from the Wicked Witch of the East. Took advantage of his want for a suit of armor. If it wasn't for Ku-Klip, he'd still be a tin statue."

"He did a really good job on him, too." Nimmie noted. She then looked away, somewhat gravely, in her reminiscence. "He blames himself for what happened to me. I've known him all my life. He was a childhood friend. He was like the brother I never had. He was a bit too rough-and-tumble for me, though…but I know being a soldier is his fate, or so the witch always griped."

Nick leaned in curiously. "What happened, Nimmie? Why does he blame himself as he does?"

Nimmie sighed. As far as Nick Chopper was concerned, it was a fair question. If anyone else had asked, she would have stubbornly refrained from recollecting anything at all. But this was Nick. This was the man she now knew she still loved. She couldn't keep the truth from him.

"Fyter wanted a rebellion, as I'm sure he might have told you." Nimmie began. "Like any other munchkin who wanted to make a stand against the tyranny of the East Witch rather than try to ignorantly live their lives peacefully despite the suffering going on around them, he never fully understood just how powerful the East Witch was. She was even more powerful than her sister in magic. Like Boq and Jinjur, Fyter never believed that the East Witch was more or less invincible. That no one could defeat her. This was before the stalemate that resulted from the intervention of Glinda and her coven-sister Locasta, too. All too many times, I tried to warn Fyter to be careful, but…his plans were too open, too flawed. Even Jinjur knew this. Even if he made the statements he wanted to make through whatever actions they were planning, I didn't want to see him, or anyone he had helping him, sacrifice their lives over gestures that might ultimately prove futile."

Nick nodded, hoping his guess would not offend Nimmie in some way. "So you made a bargain with the witch?"

Although Nimmie's expression was now one of tearful regret, she nodded. "Is it wrong to be able to make a sacrifice that saves the lives of others? Had I known what she was eventually gonna do to Fyter, I might never have surrendered myself to be that miserable old hag's maid. She promised me she wouldn't kill him as she had been considering, but…don't you think standing in one place for the rest of your life, not being able to move one single inch, is no different from death?"

Nick nodded in understanding. "So he feels that by his actions, he compelled you to become the East Witch's maid."

Nimmie wiped tears from her eyes, sniffling before she continued. "He kept blaming himself. It really tore at me to see him so resolute in his thinking."

Nick nodded again. "Like I was when I was so insistent that I have a real heart in me before I could ever love you again."

"Yes!" She uttered in her agreement, wiping away more tears as she began to compose herself. "I haven't seen Fyter in such a long time…but you say you have?"

"Yes." Nick confirmed. "In fact, we had a rather lively and perilous little adventure with Betsy Bobbin, that young human girl outside. In our journey over here, we ran into a long-necked beast last night."

Nimmie gasped in her surprise. "The Hip-po-gy-raf?"

"Betsy fell victim to his curse." Nick explained. "To free her, and all those who suffered from the same condition, we had to find a way to feed him the hay he prefers to eat. In so doing, we found out that the one who was trying to starve the creature to death was the same man who had abandoned his entire family to suffer a curse from the Wicked Witch of the West. I will be appealing to Glinda sometime very soon in hopes of having this curse lifted."

Nimmie nodded. "All that just to get to me."

"I couldn't put off seeing you again any further than I already had, Nimmie." Nick earnestly admitted. "We invited Fyter to join us, but…he insisted on staying behind. I'm hoping he'll act on the suggestion I made. If he did join the Purple Heart Patrol, I think he would make a terrific leader."

Nimmie smiled once more. "I'd like to be able to see that, too. Knowing he's happy would definitely make me feel better when I think of him…but I certainly can't do that all the way out here, can I?"

Nick blinked in his surprise. "Did you just suggest that we…?"

Nimmie smiled sweetly, shrugging. "I hope you won't mind me wanting to live a little closer to you? You think the winkies would mind seeing a stubborn little munchkin doting on you more often than most?"

Nick beamed, ecstatic at Nimmie's suggestion. "Only one way to find out, my beloved Nimmie."

They both stepped outside the cottage. Nimmie was particularly curious to meet Nick's two friends that had been waiting for them. But once they were outside, looking towards the area they left them at, she found that she could not meet either one of them.

Because they were both gone.


Nimmie shrugged, smiling, and then led Nick inside, closing the door behind them.

Outside the house…

Betsy maintained her hold on Scraps, who had stopped struggling and flailing. She looked disappointed, but there was little she could do to free herself. The Oklahoma girl's grip on her was too strong.

Five quiet minutes passed. They heard very faint murmurs inside, so they knew Nick and Nimmie were in conversation, at least.

"Can I go in now?" Scraps then asked.

"No." Betsy replied.

Ten quiet seconds passed.

"Can I go in now?" Scraps again asked, in the very same monotone as before.

"No." Betsy repeated.

Another ten quiet seconds passed.

"Can I go in now?"

"No."

Scraps shifted her position so she could speak gently into Betsy's ear. "Pweeeeeeease…I'll be your best frieeeeend…I'll get you a ponyyyyy…an' a big box of caaaandyyyyy…come on, come on, come on, come on, come ooooon…"

"Scraps, they need t' be alone." Betsy reasoned. "We've gotta wait out here."

"Baaah! Waiting is booooring." Scraps quietly protested, a pout forming on her patchwork mouth. "I had more fun with that ape than I'm having here."

"That ape could've ripp'd you t' shreds." Betsy noted.

Scraps shrugged. "Wouldn't have hurt. Only thing I ever worry about is fire. Oh…an' honey-bunch."

Betsy frowned in confusion. "Honey-bunch?"

"Well, ya gotta admit that wet hay kinda looks like honey." Scraps reasoned.

The Oklahoma girl still looked lost.

"The Scarecrow, silly!" Scraps replied. "Ol' brainy-head."

Now, Betsy realized who she meant. "Ohhh, th' one Dor'thy told me about."

"Hmph! Dorothy this, Dorothy that." Scraps then griped. "Honey-bunch dotes on that silly munchkin far too much. Even with all the work I was doing to try and make Dorothy happy so I could have honey-bunch all to myself."

Betsy tilted her head confusedly. "Work? What kind o' work?"

Scraps, however, shook her head. "Nuh-uh! Secrets! I ain't spillin' no beans!"

Betsy, however, sounded wary. "Scraps…what're you up to with Dor'thy?"

The tone of the patchwork girl remained stubborn. "Hah! I'm not tellin' you nothin'! No waaay I'm tellin' you that I've been tryin' to set the Mayor of Munchkinland up with her!"

Although Betsy knew next to nothing about this Mayor, she nevertheless found the apparent deviousness of this situation a little disturbing. Particularly for the fact that jealousy was fueling this notion.

Betsy frowned upon hearing the 'secret'. "Well, I hope they at least like each oth'r, Scraps."

"Silly Betsy-boo. Of course they like each other!" Scraps reasoned. "He had been going oooon and oooon about how Dorothy reminds him of his dead wife. For all the doting I've been advising him to make, I think it's startin' to pay off, too, 'cause I think Dorothy really is starting to like Boq. Just before I got in the tin carriage, I had just finished telling ol' Boq something I overheard Dorothy telling the Scarecrow about a boon Ozma gave Dorothy."

"What kind o' boon?" Betsy asked.

"I think she said it was some kinda potion-thingy." Scraps replied. "Something to make her older. Yeah, that was it."

"Why would she…wait a minute." Betsy sounded even more wary now. "Scraps…how old is th' Mayor?"

"If Dorothy drinks that potion, that won't matter anymore!" Scraps replied. "That's the beauty of it! I know they like each other, so I just need to wait until she drinks down that potion, and then marries the guy. Then, it'll be me an' honey-bunch sit-tin' in a tree…k-i-s-"

"I dunno, Scraps." Betsy worriedly remarked. "This sounds awfully sneaky t' me."

"Hey! Don't get all fuddley-doop on me!" Scraps protested. Her voice then went serious. "Wait…did you hear that?"

Betsy rolled her eyes. "I'm not fallin' for that 'made ya look' thing again, Scraps."

"No, no! I'm serious!" Scraps began looking around. "I just heard something. Like a giggling, and…and a snorting."

The Oklahoma girl still didn't buy it. "I'm not lettin' you go 'till Nick comes back out, Scraps."

"Shhhhh!" Scraps continued darting her head around. "Shut up and listen."

Betsy finally gave the patchwork girl's concern a chance, although she still felt like she was being had again. In the moment of silence that followed, the Oklahoma girl heard only the outdoor sounds one would hear with a day's dissolve into night, including those of crickets beginning their nocturnal dronings. The skies above were indeed becoming deeper shades of blue.

And then, Betsy finally heard a faint but merry giggling, followed by an odd snort.

"There. Did you hear it?" Scraps quietly asked.

Betsy nodded. Still holding on to Scraps, she curiously moved in the direction of the sound, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Another round of wild giggling, and snorts, followed…but a merry young female voice could then be heard. "Fuddley-doop!" The giggling then began anew.

"She must've overheard us speakin'." Betsy hissed.

Scraps shrugged. "Whoever it is probably just wants to play."

Betsy frowned at this notion. "At night?"

"Maybe she's a lost kid." Scraps suggested. "We should look for her. Try to get her back to her parents. She can go with us in the tin carriage when we head back."

Betsy thought on this. Ultimately, she deemed that it was the right thing to do, but there was one caveat she had to mention.

"If I put you down, don't you go racin' ov'r t' Nimmie's house, Okay?" Betsy warned.

"Relax!" Betsy quietly assured. "I'm a little more curious about this kid. Let's face it…she had me at 'fuddley-doop'."

Betsy nodded amusedly, and then loosened her grip on the patchwork girl, keeping her eyes on Scraps out of concern that she would suddenly dash over to Nimmie's home. This time, however, Scraps was a patchwork girl of her word, and the duo slowly began to head in the general direction of the giggling.

Glancing behind her every so often to make sure Scraps was still behind her, Betsy continued her advance through the foliage of the forest they had to go through, the sounds of crickets thickening. Scanning for any sign of a child, she saw nothing, and they were gradually losing the natural light high above.

As they had not heard another occurrence of the giggling and the snorting, Betsy began to wonder if she should proceed any further. She figured it would be wiser to head back and perhaps convince Nick…and maybe even Nimmie…to help them in their search.

But then, the giggling could be heard again, and this time, it was closer. Giggling, then snorting, and the voice once again. "Betsy-boo!" More merry giggling, as if it were the funniest joke she had ever heard. She could now hear rustling through leaves on the ground. Compelled, Betsy pressed further towards the source of the sound, despite the darkening climate and the abundance of trees that seemed to swallow her whole.

It was when she circled around, during her search, that she now noticed she was now alone. Scraps was gone!

"Scraps? Hey! Where'd y' go?" She hissed loudly. After a moment, she then sighed irritably. "You crazy ol' sneak! If you went back t' Nimmie's…"

At that moment, she felt a slight shove at her back from behind! Betsy whirled around quickly…

…but saw nothing.

"Scraps…?" She spoke softly. "Was that…you?"

Silence followed, and Betsy stayed perfectly still, ready for anything as she slowly revolved.

"Nope!"

The word was sharply, and amusedly, spoken right into her left ear, as if whoever was playing with her was right behind her, and Betsy spun around once again.

Nothing!

The giggling and the snorting was heard once again, this time sounding as if it were about three trees away from her position. She hurried over to the source, moving around the circumference of the wide-bodied tree's base.

Such was her raw determination to find out who was apparently stalking her that Betsy did not notice the feel of the two hard hooves that had been placed against her hips.

When Betsy came to a complete stop in recognition of this, a round-bellied body collided into her back, and a pair of chubby pink arms wrapped around her waist, pinning Betsy's arms to the sides as they fell to the ground, the giggling, snorting intruder behind her cushioned by Betsy's body as the Oklahoma girl fell face-first to the soft ground, after which the two bodies began rolling around upon the dry soil below.

Betsy quickly wrestled herself out of the grip, the fat stalker continuing to giggle mercilessly as the Oklahoma girl rolled to the side and then leaped to her feet, hoping she would now get a glimpse of whoever it was that was apparently taunting her.

And saw the intruder, she finally did, as the round-bellied stalker…who was dressed in festive colors…struggled merrily to the two hooves of her feet, still giggling and snorting. Betsy recognized the wild and obnoxious style of clothing right away, given her circus experiences.

They were those of a clown.

What she saw otherwise was a female anthropomorphic pig with a head of short and curly bright purple hair. In addition to her hooved feet, she had three-fingered hands with hard black tips. Her half-human, half-porcine face had a full pig's snout, which was apparently painted red, while the rest of her face had a white clown basis, and was otherwise made up in the typical clown fashion with yellow-lined green diamond designs around her eyes, and a red-lined blue makeup pattern around her lips. Her large porcine ears had been given a yellow color.

She continued to laugh and giggle merrily even after the pig clown's eyes fell upon Betsy, perhaps feeling all the more giddy that she and her new playmate could finally acknowledge her presence. By now, the only illumination in the area was provided by a full moon hovering high above.

"Betsy-boo!" The pig clown shoved a finger towards the Oklahoma girl before giggling and snorting once more, practically dancing and spinning in place, turning away from her long enough to wiggle her huge posterior towards Betsy, who saw that the pig clown had a coiled tail emerging from her spine, poking through a convenient hole in the clown outfit's rear section.

And then, from six areas within the trees, surrounding them both, flared a group of torches that provided more improved illumination. The humanoid figures holding them…which Betsy could barely make out…began walking slowly around the two. Spotting one, Betsy saw that the torch-bearer was also wearing multicolored clothes, but she was able to spot a full-face porcelain mask on the person's face as well.

"Where's Scraps?" She called out, beginning to feel uneasy about this unexpected situation. "What've you done with 'er?"

In the next moment, she heard a flaming object tumble through the air right past her, as if it had been thrown. The pig clown caught the thrown torch, and then caught the next one that had been thrown past the other side of where Betsy stood.

Still displaying an open-mouthed smile, the pig clown began juggling the two torches while keeping her wide eyes on Betsy. Another torch was thrown at her, and now the clown was juggling three torches. A fourth followed.

The pig clown juggled them while standing on one hoof. She juggled them while turning slowly around. She juggled them while quickly spinning around. The entire time, she wore the same merry smile.

The remaining two torches, held by the shadowy humanoids in the masks surrounding them, were then flung to the pig clown, and she was now juggling all six torches in an impressively effortless fashion.

As Betsy watched, however, the porcine clown suddenly tossed one of the torches to the Oklahoma girl. A second was then passed to her. Although it was a surprise move, Betsy was able to catch the both of them.

As she held them, she saw that the pig clown was continuing to juggle the four torches she still had.

With her eyes closed.

Frowning over the clown's plainly obvious attempt at showing off, Betsy began juggling the torches she had, showing off the skill her Bailum & Barney trainers had taught her.

The pig clown then tossed Betsy a third torch. Betsy, however, managed to have this torch join the other two in her own display of juggling skill.

The clown seemed to giggle and snort with delight as each of them had three torches flying up and down alternately, the burning edges still ignited brightly. Betsy had to smirk as they continued their juggling displays, although she was also a little wary that this might be a diversion. She wanted to be prepared to drop all focus on the torches and prevent the six masked individuals around them from grabbing her.

But the clown then tossed a fourth torch to Betsy.

This was Betsy's limit insofar as her training went. She had been unable to do more than four, and she visibly struggled to keep the torches airborne. Wanting to save face, Betsy tossed this fourth torch back to the pig clown as she continued her juggling.

The tumbling torch seemed to bounce off the pig clown and back to Betsy in the way the clown handled the torches. Betsy passed it right back, and every time she did that, the pig clown flung it back to the Oklahoma girl.

In the next moment, they were juggling all six torches between them. This proved more of a struggle for Betsy to keep up compared to the pig clown. She looked very nervous as she continued to keep the torches flying between them.

With a partial smile, Betsy realized she was doing better than she thought she would as she continued the rhythm.

Now the pig clown began to pace around slowly, and Betsy moved similarly, knowing they had to remain face to face for the juggling rhythm to sustain itself.

The porcine entertainer looked quite delighted to see that Betsy had talent of her own. Her eyes stayed wide open in her giddy satisfaction, and her smile never dissolved.

A new rhythm followed. Two were juggled up by the clown, and four were passed between her and Betsy.

Then four up, and two across.

All six were then tossed to Betsy, and the Oklahoma girl…who had never in her life juggled six…found herself struggling to keep the flaming torches tumbling up and down in front of her.

In her wild effort to do so, she lost her balance and suddenly stumbled down to the ground, the torches remaining airborne and tumbling about until they suddenly came down, unlit ends first, around Betsy, deeply stabbing into the ground around her as if the torches were fired from a gun.

"OOPS!" The pig clown cackled and snortled anew. "Bet-sy got a boo-boo! Bet-sy got a boo-boo!" She wiggled her big posterior as she danced around in her taunting.

Betsy sighed, feeling hurt by the clown's bullying. "Oh, leave me alone." She then looked around worriedly. "Scraps…where are you?"

But the pig clown suddenly pounced forward, somersaulting in the sky. Betsy screamed as she saw the porcine entertainer heading right down on her!

When the clown landed, however, it was as if Betsy had been hit with a very soft bean bag, and the clown bounced upon the Oklahoma girl's body twice before settling her weight down upon her. Her weight then seemed to increase to the point where Betsy was effectively pinned beneath her porcine stalker.

The clown giggled and snorted again as she lay on top of her, looking right into her eyes. Betsy saw that the clown's eyes had a faint, rainbow-like sheen to them.

The clown then pulled off Betsy's white bonnet and ran her three-fingered, hoof-like hands through her curls. Betsy felt a warm tingle at the roots of her hair as this happened.

The Oklahoma girl began to struggle and squirm under the pig clown's weight, but then one of the hoof-like hands settled over Betsy's nose, holding it in a firm grip.

The porcine clown then brought a digit of her other hand to her mouth, took a deep, inward breath which seemed to make her body expand a bit, and then blew as hard as she could upon the tip of the digit, her cheeks visibly ballooning.

A tingle at Betsy's nose preceded an intense influx of pressure centered upon her nose, and it suddenly ballooned out of its human shape to become as round as a ball. The flush of blood to her nose seemed to colorize this apparent mutation, making it deep red in color. The nasal passages during this effect had been temporarily blocked, but once the clown's hoof-like hand moved away from Betsy's nose, her nasal passages opened up again.

Her eyes naturally went to this changed nose, seeing its new and unnatural roundness. It absolutely looked like one of the red noses she had seen Bailum & Barney clowns wear.

The pig clown found it predictably amusing, and she brought a hand over to squeeze upon the red nose she had apparently given Betsy.

The nose emitted a funny noise through the nasal holes when the clown squeezed it. A strangely ticklish sensation could also be felt along with the noise.

The pig clown's laughing and snorting began anew, but Betsy did not find this amusing at all. She hated clowns, and there was no way she was going to let this particular clown turn her into one.

With all the strength she could muster, she pulled her knees into her chest and kicked the clown up with both of her legs, showing the bullying clown a trick Betsy herself had learned through acrobat training: the ability to make a person spin around using one's legs.

And spin the porcine clown did, although the joyous exultations of the clown seemed to indicate that she was enjoying this greatly. When Betsy kicked her as far into the distance as she could, she let out a loud WHEEEEEEE!

Betsy finally rose to her feet, and her hands immediately went to her nose, feeling its roundness. Its skin texture was still evident, but it was still capable of making a honk like a bicycle horn…and gave her that weird tickle feeling…when it was squeezed, and she sighed in her despair.

And since this was in fact her nose, and not an attachment, she could not remove it.

Feeling at her hair, she saw that it was now a mass of tightly-curled ringlets. She was unable to find out if the color had been changed, however. She would need to look in a mirror to see that.

The familiar sound of an approaching engine, and the appearance of bright lights, heralded the approach of the tin carriage at long last. Relieved, she turned to it as it pulled in close to her…

…but an alarmed Nick and Nimmie Amee quickly came out of the vehicle. Nimmie hurriedly grabbed Betsy protectively while Nick brandished his axe at six masked humanoids who were apparently approaching the Oklahoma girl from behind!

"I'll protect her all night if I have to!" Nick warned his adversaries. "Now leave! Or I will hurt you!"

The shadowy, human-sized assailants…their overall appearances still covered by the blackness around them, save for slight glimpses of portions of their masks…began retreating away from Nick, one step at a time. They then began somersaulting away very quickly until they were gone. There was no further giggling or snorting either.

Nick then turned to Betsy, easing his guard. Nimmie was already assessing what had happened to the Oklahoma girl.

In addition to the nose Betsy had been given, Nick and Nimmie was also able to see what the clown had done to their friend's hair as Betsy recovered her bonnet, dusting the soil off of it.

Betsy looked to Nick with a question that seemed terribly obvious. "What color is it, Nick?"

After a moment of hesitation, Nick revealed it. "It's…pink, Betsy. Bright pink."

Betsy sighed loudly in her frustration. "I hate clowns. Pink hair, big red nose…I hope I'm not gonna stay like this."

"I'm sure Glinda can easily remedy these changes, Betsy. Don't worry." Nick assured.

"Wait a minute…Scraps was with me." Betsy then remembered. "Did you…"

Nimmie nodded as she interjected. "Your stuffed friend is in the carriage. We found her on the way here."

"She'll need a new pair of gloves and boots, but she's otherwise fine." Nick added. "Well…except for the big red button clamping her mouth shut."

Betsy smiled. "With th' way I look right now, I think I'll wait 'till I'm all fix'd up b'fore gettin' that butt'n off."

Nick chuckled at this. "That's understandable. Feel like joining us back at the tin palace, Betsy? Or would you rather be dropped off at the Emerald City?"

After a moment of thought, Betsy made up her mind. "I'll go with you an' Nimmie, your highness. Y' think Scraps can be fix'd up at th' tin palace?"

Nick shrugged, smiling. "I don't see why not."

The trio then headed over to the tin carriage. Within moments, they began rolling out.

As they made their way out of the forest area and away from Mount Munch, Nimmie stepped over to sit next to Betsy. Scraps was a few seats away in the back. With her gloves and boots removed, her patchwork-quilted wrist and ankle areas had been tied behind her, and she did indeed have a large red clown-suit button stitching her mouth closed.

Betsy looked a little moody as her fingers felt along the shape of her transformed nose, which concerned Nimmie. "Betsy, is it? Are you OK?" She quietly asked.

"Yeah, I'm Betsy. Betsy Bobbin. Nice t' meet you, Nimmie." Betsy then slowly lowered her head. "I'm not really feelin' all that great right now. It's not 'cause o' th' clown thing. I…I really wanted t' help Nick. First time I tried, I got real big an' fat. Now, I wanted t' help someone else who we thought was lost, an' I…I walk'd into some kind of a trap."

"But Nick told me how courageous you were, Betsy." Nimmie explained, putting an arm around the sullen girl in consolation. "He told me about that little adventure with the monkeys, and how you got that cap back to them. That was all you, Betsy. You set that little plan in motion, and you even inspired Nick to keep going until he found me again."

Betsy smiled. "Yeah, I…I kinda forgot about that monkey thing."

"Good thing I reminded you then." Nimmie gave her a wink. "We can't always win when we do things like that, though. Every now and then, we stumble. But it's one thing to stay on the ground, lost in regret. It's another thing entirely to get yourself back on your feet and try again, and keep trying until you succeed, right?"

Betsy nodded, feeling a little better. "Right."

"I'm curious, though." Nimmie then remarked. "You had said you hated clowns. We used to have visitors in Oz from a faraway place called Merryland, where there's an area called the Clown Country, and they were not only very talented, but very funny as well."

"Yeah, but…it kinda seems like they're tryin' too hard t' make people laugh." Betsy reasoned. "They jus' look too silly. They act too goofy."

"So it's not like something happened to you in your life that made you hate clowns?"

"Well…I might think that sometimes, with th' way clowns are, I might think about some of th' mean things some of th' kids at the orph'nage did t' me when I was there." Betsy explained. "I mean, clowns messin' with each oth'r just t' make people laugh can make me think about all th' times I've been teased an' bullied at that orph'nage."

"But those times are behind you now, aren't they?" Nimmie reasoned. "Bringing good cheer, I think, is always a good thing. Even if it means dressing up in silly clothes. Nick tells me cruelty in the Winkie Country is a crime. Punishable by banishment from the lands. So? You wouldn't have to worry about anybody being cruel to you if you chose to live in the Winkie Country."

Betsy frowned. "Are you sayin' that I should stay this way? Start wearin' clown makeup, an' bein' silly all th' time?"

"Well, I only suggest it because as you might expect, I like clowns." Nimmie replied. "But then, maybe we can just see about having more visitors from Merryland if I ever wanted to see clowns again…but it would certainly make people in Nick's country a little happier if they had a funny entertainer living among them. Someone who could always make people smile. Nick told me you used to be in a circus, and from what I know of circuses, there are a lot of clowns."

"Yeah, but…I didn't do any clownin'." Betsy countered. "I was more of an acrobat. Swingin' on flyin' trappys an' stuff. Circuses aren't only about clowns."

Nimmie nodded in understanding. "Nick told me you did a show, too. They called you the Queen of Diamonds. Sparkling skin, with diamonds all over."

"That was amazin'." Betsy's eyes widened in emphasis. "That was a magic makeup job. I didn't feel any diff'rent, but I sure look'd diff'rent! That wore off, though. I was told that it would. This…" she indicated her ball-like nose. "…doesn't feel like it will."

"Well, like Nick said, I'm sure you can get your hair and your nose restored through his friend, Glinda." Nimmie rubbed Betsy's shoulder sympathetically. "But I still think it would be nice if the Winkie Country had a circus of its own."

Betsy nodded, smiling. "That'd be nice! An' I'll say, in fairness, that some clowns I've seen were okay. I mean, they're not all bad. Guess I'm jus' picky."

Nimmie smiled at this, and then gave Betsy's nose a firm squeeze, hearing the funny noise as another infectious tickle ran through the Oklahoma girl's body. She couldn't help but giggle cutely and quiver against this feeling.

Nick concentrated on the road, keeping an eye out for any further trouble. It was well into the evening hours as they passed through the Gillikin Country roads, and then into those of the Winkie Country.

As they rolled towards the tin palace, Nimmie heard Betsy squeeze at her nose once again, and she gave her a curious glance. Betsy seemed to do it idly, and she let out another slight giggle, feeling the tickle running through her.

The munchkin woman could not help but smile amusedly at this.


Before Nick took Nimmie on a guided tour of the tin palace, he had taken Betsy back to the very nice-looking guest room she had been given during her stay at the tin palace, and the tin emperor assured that attendants would see to her needs upon alerting one of the nearby guards, who all knew that the Oklahoma girl was the emperor's special guest. The only request Betsy had made was to have a full-length mirror installed.

Betsy thoughtfully stared at her own reflection for nearly an hour once she had changed into a provided nightgown. She had pulled her bonnet off, and her fingers were now sifting through the mass of bright pink curls on her head. She was at least assured that her hair did not resemble some of the wigs clowns typically wore that she never liked. Aside from the radically different color and the tighter mass of curls, her hair looked otherwise fine.

A lot of her thoughts were on Nimmie's concept of a circus in the land of Oz. The idea had merit, particularly for the kind of atmosphere Nick Chopper wanted for his country. She was, however, a little more inclined towards the visage of the Queen of Diamonds that she wore when she was performing alongside the Wizard and Hank.

It then occurred to her that she had not thought of her mule companion for quite some time, although she was sure he was being treated well while he stayed with Glinda and Oscar.

Her fingers then went to her nose once again.

She still had her sense of smell, and her nasal passages remained clear. It was the shape that was particularly odd, and the sharp sense of pleasure which came with the bicycle horn-like sound that blared when anyone squeezed it was a little worrisome.

Even more troubling was why the pig clown had given Betsy such things in the first place. Maybe the pig clown was a part of a more magically-based traveling circus? Perhaps it was an invitation? Nimmie mentioned something about a Clown Country. Could that have been one of the clowns from that area? Was the larger territory of Merryland a place worth visiting at some point in her future?

She had no answers.

Just pink hair, and a round, ball-like red nose. It didn't even hurt when she squeezed the nose.

Betsy curiously went back over to the dresser, and began looking for a particular outfit, which she remembered bringing into the room. After a bit of rummaging, she finally found it.

The sparkling Queen of Diamonds costume had even been cleaned, too, and the white ruff was attached to it.

Off came the nightgown, and Betsy slipped back into the costume, standing in front of the mirror once again with a curious expression on her face.

She then sighed out loudly. By her assessment, the clowny features on her face didn't go with the costume, and she took it off.

As she put her nightgown back on, she accidentally impacted her nose as she slipped her head through the neckhole, and the bike horn-like sound blared. The sharp tickle sensation…which now seemed to get a little stronger every time the nose was squeezed…made her gasp.

The tickling sensation was now starting to scare her. She resolved, from then on, to try and keep her hands away from her nose until she could be restored.

After a long yawn, she slipped beneath the covers of the bed and stared up to the ceiling, trying to relax. Eventually, her half-lidded eyes fluttered shut, and her head slowly moved to one side.

Seven uninterrupted hours later, Betsy's eyes slowly reopened to see the coat-button eyes of a familiar, smiling face fashioned from a patchwork quilt staring back down at her. She felt the patchwork girl's mass resting gently against her, the stuffed arms casually crossed against Betsy's chest.

"Boo." Scraps quietly remarked once Betsy's eyes finally found hers, and focused upon them. "Good morning, Pinky."

Betsy smirked, her voice weary. "G' mornin', Scraps."

"Don't tell me. Lemme guess. 'Don't call me Pinky'." Scraps mused. "It was either that or Big Red!"

Before Betsy could stop her, Scraps gave the round red nose a squeeze with her new, yellow-gloved hands, the bike horn sound once again blaring, and the sharp tickling sensation running through the Oklahoma girl's body, forcing her to giggle loudly.

The eyebrows of the patchwork girl arched up wide. "Did that tickle you?" She squeezed the nose again. And again. Betsy was now in a full-on giggle fit, despite herself. "HAH! That's for keepin' me out of Nimmie's house, Big Red!" And Scraps playfully squeezed the nose once again. And three more times in rapid succession.

Betsy had tumbled out of the bed by now…but such was the overload of her pleasure centers that she could not feel the impact. Her body had numbed even as she was giggling uncontrollably. Something had definitely snapped within Betsy's clear mind, too, from all the magically-induced tickles surging through her with every squeeze of the large red nose.

Tweak an' squeeze, Betsy-boo!
Nothing but smiles for me and for you!

Scraps started mercilessly poking and tickling Betsy as she spoke her lyrical verse, the patchwork girl squeezing the nose every chance she got. Betsy tumbled backwards as she giggled merrily. Once she had landed on her posterior, she tried rising to her feet…but she stumbled backwards and fell back on the floor.

This made her giggle even more, as the numbness running through her made it impossible for her human nerves to feel any pain from the impact of her stumble.

The door to her room suddenly burst open. Nick gasped at what he saw as he stood alongside Nimmie Amee, who was dressed in a very beautiful formal gown with decorative tin highlights. The tin emperor headed right for Scraps, while Nimmie moved towards Betsy.

"Scraps! I told you to leave Betsy alone!" Nick scolded. "Can't you see she's under a spell?"

Scraps shrugged. "Can't you see she's enjoying it?"

Nimmie bent to a knee and placed her hands on the giddy-faced Oklahoma girl's shoulders. "Are you all right, Betsy?"

Betsy nodded, panting as she rose to her feet. "Uh-huh! I feel jus' swell, Nimmie! 'Cause I can't feel nothin'!"

"There! You see?" Scraps reasoned, gesturing to Betsy. "No more pain!"

"That isn't always a good thing, Scraps." Nimmie countered. She then turned to Nick. "She's clearly in no condition to join us for the graduation ceremony, Nicholas. Is there someone we can take her to?"

Nick nodded. "I think we should take her to Locasta, the Good Witch of the North. Glinda is busy training a friend of mine in magic, so I don't want to distract her with this matter. If Betsy's condition is too strong for Locasta to remedy, we'll bring her to Glinda."

Nimmie nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"But Nimmie!" Betsy gasped, turning the munchkin's head to face hers. "Don't y' want me t' be a clown?"

Nimmie sighed, blushing in embarrassment. "Well…we can talk about that after you've seen Locasta, Betsy."

Nick frowned as he turned back to Scraps, leveling a tin-plated finger towards her. "You are not coming with us."

"Awwww, come on!" Scraps protested. "Betsy's my friend! Look…if you say there's something wrong with her, then let's go see Locasta about it! I promise. No more honking Betsy's nose." She sounded surprisingly serious in her proclamation, but then she added. "At least, for now."

Although Nick did not look entirely convinced, he nevertheless nodded. "We're gonna hold you to that, Scraps. In fact, Nimmie will be keeping her eyes on you for the entire trip."

"But if Locasta says it's nothing bad, we get to play around like dolls." Scraps then noted.

"This clearly had something to do with what that pig clown did to her last night." Nimmie warily countered. "This could be very bad."

Nick nodded, suspecting that this was also an erb-related problem. "I agree."


As Mayor of the MunchkinCity, in the county of the land of Oz,
I welcome you all most reeee-gally,
and today I must proclaim quite leee-gally

that a thorough education must result in graduation!
Proven by examination, they have earned certification
to bring illumination, and knowledge affirmation!

Boq, who had the smiling Scarecrow standing next to him dressed in his graduate cap and gown, then turned to the rows of seated students behind him. Standing beside them were their ordained tutors. Dorothy, of course, stood behind Tula, who rose up with the rest of the proud and anxious…and in some cases, very nervous…students at the Mayor's bidding.

Graduates, I bid you RIIIISE!
For your tutors, who did adviiiise
that for the courses, you did complete,
that you join the Think-ology ELITE!

As the cheer went up among everyone in attendance at the public graduation ceremony in the Munchkinland Town Square, the Mayor turned to the Scarecrow and bowed respectfully. Dorothy had seen this procedure many times before as one among the crowds below, with their educational charges beside them, and in the two years she had been tutoring Tula, she was very much looking forward to being on the stage with her own accomplished student at her side. Now, she was finally there, among the other tutors and their anxious charges.

Dorothy definitely felt a sense of closure, although this also came with a sense of uncertainty. What would life as the Ministress of Educational Affairs be like for her? How would this differ from being a regular tutor?

Looking out in the crowd, she saw a few tutors with their students, some of whom looked a little crestfallen. Dorothy knew that for all the time spent in tutelage, some students were a little more difficult to teach compared to others, and some required extra time. The munchkin ministress did think on this minor propensity, though, and had been wanting to propose a couple of related ideas once it came time for her to present them.

For now, however, she watched the Scarerow step to the center of the stage that was erected in the Town Square. It was time for her favorite part of the ceremony. The Scarecrow already had the first diploma in his hand, ready to hand it over to the first name called, which was always in alphabetical order.

But there was a speech the Scarecrow repeated every year, and it was a source of well-placed reminiscence as he spoke the words.

"As a very good and eminent friend of mine once said," The Scarecrow began. "anybody can have a brain. It's a very mediocre commodity. Every pusillanimous creature that crawls on the Earth or slinks through slimy seas has a brain. Back where people like Dorothy Gale and the Wizard of Oz came from, they have universities! Seats of great learning, where people go to become great thinkers. When they come out, they think deep thoughts and with no more brains than anyone else has. But they have one thing these graduates haven't got! A diploma!" He held up the tightly-rolled document, which was tied with a blue ribbon. "Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Munchkinland Learning Guild, and in honor of the Universitarius Committiartum E Pluribus Unum, I hereby confer upon each of our graduates, who I shall call by name, and in alphabetical order, the honorary degree of Th-D. Upon receiving their diplomas, they shall henceforth be ordained Devotees of Thinkology!"

Of course, Dorothy remembered that the Wizard had ordained the Scarecrow a Doctor of Thinkology, and it was perhaps by virtue of the Scarecrow's logic…or Headmistress Philomena's, or perhaps even both of them…that they redefined the "D" of the bestowed diplomas so they would not find Munchkinland drowning in Doctors of Thinkology!

"Alannah, student of Rosella."

Young, blond-locked Alannah rose up out of her chair, and Rosella followed behind her as she stepped over to the smiling Scarecrow. One hand took the presented diploma while the other hand shook the Scarecrow's stuffed hand.

"Asa, student of Marigold."

The brown-haired boy called Asa was a bit rowdy in the early years of his tutoring under Marigold, but his munchkin tutor established firm disciplinary tenets with the help of Asa's parents, which compelled the munchkin boy to improve considerably. His general attitude towards learning, and his behavior in general, noticeably improved as well. Some of the friends he had made, however…notably, a bad seed of a boy named Kiki-Aru…abandoned Asa to his "loser's life", as Kiki called it. The young son of the powerful munchkin magician Bini-Aru was not very well-liked among the munchkins in any case, so it did not upset Asa too much to see that troublemaker part company with him.

His vow of revenge, as ominous as it sounded, was a typical thing with him. That did not bother Asa either, and he smiled happily as he accepted the diploma in one hand and shook the Scarecrow's hand with the other.

"Bilius, student of Ermengarde."

Dorothy knew that engineering was the meat and drink of this particular student, and someday, she felt that this particular student could create wondrous new things once he had gotten past the hurdle of his tutelage. He had even acted on a conscious desire to grow up as well, although Dorothy didn't know how far he wanted to progress.

He definitely looked visibly older than when the round-bodied munchkin last saw this one. Bilius looked entirely eager even after he had accepted the diploma the Scarecrow bestowed upon him, as Ermengarde observed with pride.

The Scarecrow went through many letters as graduates continued to approach the stuffed Royal Advisor to shake his hand and receive their diplomas. As there were no names that started with "R" or "S" among the graduates, the next name the former ruler of Oz announced took Dorothy by surprise.

The Scarecrow smiled wide as he spoke. "Tula, student of Dorothy Gale."

The applause was a little louder, and the Princess Ozma…who was in attendance with Jellia Jamb alongside her on one side, and the Cowardly Lion on the other…regarded the pair with a bit more volume in her applause as she beamed joyfully. Standing next to the Lion were Emperor Nick Chopper and Nimmie Amee, and in front of them were Lollipop Guildmaster Ojo, who stood with his good friend the Woozy at his side. The current Guildmaster of the Lullaby League held her place next to Ojo's four-legged, fire-breathing companion, offering her own cheers and applause. A proud Aunt Em and an equally proud Uncle Henry…both of them dressed in human-sized munchkin formal outfits…had also been invited to stand with the Princess of Oz, and they had Toto with them as well. His tail wagged as Aunt Em held him up, and he barked happily once he heard Dorothy's name.

Smiling widely, Dorothy rose up and followed Tula over to where the Scarecrow awaited to present the happy graduate with her diploma. The ministress behind her placed a hand upon the young munchkin's shoulder proudly. The munchkin tutor then gave Ozma's straw-stuffed royal advisor a tight hug. By now, tears of joy were falling from Dorothy's eyes.

Dorothy then realized that the Scarecrow did not bend his body down so she could hug his torso, and she found that she had the Scarecrow's legs in her arms. She didn't care, though, and the Scarecrow only chuckled in amusement as he ran the stuffed glove of his hand over Dorothy's hair.

When she finally pulled away, the Scarecrow bent down and kissed the happy munchkin on her forehead. Dorothy then followed Tula to where the other graduates and their tutors waited. Glancing to Ozma, she saw the Princess of Oz blow her a kiss, and as she expected, the Cowardly Lion was struggling to keep from crying…again…over yet another happy moment in the life of his good friend from Kansas.

He eventually buried his furry, blubbering face unto the black-striped orange shoulder of the Hungry Tiger, who as always was at his side as his majordomo. An amused Nick Chopper shook his head, and Nimmie Amee quietly giggled at the sight of the leonine king weeping happily.

Finally, the last name was called, and the boy and his tutor joined the rest awaiting for the next moment of the ceremony, which began when the Scarecrow stepped before them all.

"From this moment forward, your educational responsibilities are hereby completed." The Scarecrow began. "The next step you take in your lives is your own. Finding work in Oz, if not in Munchkinland, should be a little easier now that you have the benefit of a good education, and we have high hopes for you all. Never think of this moment as an end. It is most definitely a beginning. Some among you have already found responsibilities to apply yourselves to." He glanced to Tula, who grinned knowingly. "You may even have people approach you at the post-graduation day luncheon, which will commence shortly, with offers for work. Onward, Devotees of Thinkology! Your futures await!"

The crowd of graduates then let out a loud cheer as the crowd erupted anew. Some graduates rushed forward to hug the Scarecrow, while others actually went for Dorothy, knowing her to be Munchkinland's national heroine. As the graduates were led to their seats at the luncheon, the Princess Ozma and the rest of Dorothy's good friends anxiously stepped over to her.

"Congratulations, my wonderful little munchkin!" Ozma chimed. "I'm so proud of you!"

Aunt Em handed Toto off to Uncle Henry, and then she similarly moved to pick up Dorothy and hug her tightly. "Henry an' I are so happy for you, sweetheart!" Em exclaimed. "Y' really did it! Two years, an' y' got yourself a right good education of your own!"

"An' anoth'r job, too." Henry added, smiling as he handed Toto to the happy munchkin tutor once Aunt Em lowered Dorothy back to the ground. "Dunno what kind o' work a 'Ministress' does, but I s'pose it'll be fine work, Dor'thy."

Toto licked at Dorothy's pudgy face excitedly as his owner giggled sweetly. She then saw the Lion step up to her, with his black-striped majordomo just behind him. The leonine monarch looked like he was ready to burst into wracking sobs, although all who saw him had to respect the effort the furry king of the beasts was attempting.

He even attempted a smile as he looked down at the munchkin tutor and began to speak. "C…cuh…" He took a deep breath in his effort to regain composure.

Nick and the Scarecrow, standing behind Dorothy, seemed to quietly urge the Lion on as he continued his effort.

The Lion then held his breath, hoping this tactic would work. When he finally did speak, he sounded funny as he kept holding his breath through his words, and his frozen effort at a smile. "Congratulations, Dorothy!"

Dorothy couldn't help herself. She giggled charmingly at the Lion's inescapably visible effort to keep his composure. "Awww, thank you, your majesty! I'm sure you know how much courage I needed to have to be able to hold out being the way I am these past two years." She then stepped in to hug the Lion's furry leg. The Lion's face was at its zenith, and within moments of its potential bawling when he heard Dorothy's next words. "You'll always be an inspiration to me."

Nick and the Scarecrow smirked to each other knowingly. They spoke quietly. "Breakdown in three…two…one!"

"BUUUUUH-HUUUH-HUUUH- HUUUH!" Sure enough, the Lion collapsed into a sobbing fit right at the cues of his two smiling friends, who were now shaking their heads. Dorothy, however, was looking somewhat ashamedly to Nick and the Scarecrow with a smirk of her own, her hands on her hips.

Her two friends simply shrugged in response, smiling meekly.

Dorothy then felt the Lion's arms wrap around her as he picked her up with a firm, but fluffy grip. "Oh, get up here, why don'cha, huuuh-huuuuh-huuuuuh! I gotta…I gotta hug ya properly, y' know, huuuuh-huuuuh-huuuh!"

She saw the Hungry Tiger shrug amusedly as the Lion held her aloft.

He sniffled as he looked into Dorothy's munchkin eyes. "You must be so ashamed of me. Some courageous king I am."

"Oh, come on, your majesty…if I were an animal, I'd be proud to call you my king! Even if you do break down crying when you feel happy for your friends." Dorothy assured. "I'm sure your friends with the Legion of Courage feel the same way!"

The Hungry Tiger gently placed a paw on the Lion's shoulder. "She's right, my king. Even humans and munchkins tend to react similarly in situations like this."

A thought then occurred to Dorothy. "I never did get to know your friends in the Legion. I've been so busy tutoring Tula, and being so involved in Munchkinland events, that I never got a chance to come by your forest."

The Lion smiled. "It's never too late, Ministress Dorothy."

"I agree, my king." The voice sounded a little unfamilar to Dorothy, but she then saw that the tough-sounding female voice came from the large black and white-furred frame of the panda called Bo, who smiled to the munchkin tutor in the Lion's arms. "Perhaps you can come by and give us all an important lecture on how knowledge can be a powerful asset. With your tutoring done, perhaps you can make time for us?"

Dorothy had never heard Bo speak, but she did remember the Lion introducing the panda to the former human girl, so she knew who this was when she spotted her. "Sounds good to me, Bo!" she replied.

As Toto gazed up at his owner continuing to converse with the Lion and Bo, he picked up on an alluring scent, and he idly padded towards it, making his way through the crowds.

Such were the attentions of the others that they did not notice the little black terrier warily trot away. He then heard the tender voice of an old woman. "Heeeeere, boy…thaaaaat's it…"

Still entirely wary, Toto hurried his steps. He didn't like hearing the voice of an old woman he did not know. He did not want to be reminded of Almira Gulch, that wicked old shrew who demanded he be destroyed.

Toto's sniffing finally brought him close enough to the old woman that he could visually spot her…but it was largely because she was now stepping carefully over to him. In one hand, she held out the item that was obviously generating the admittedly delicious scent.

It was an oddly-shaped biscuit. It looked freshly-made, and very inviting to in both scent and appearance. The old woman, who was dressed in red robes and had a black eyepatch over one eye, smiled sweetly. Aside from the eyepatch, she looked generally friendly.

But she also had a pointed hat. Very much like the one worn by the Wicked Witch of the West.

"Hungry, dear?" The one-eyed woman brought the biscuit closer to the little dog. "I assure you…this is very tasty."

Toto would not easily let himself get suckered, and he began to growl threateningly as the old woman steadily approached him. "Oh, don't worry. I won't hurt you at all." She assured. "Aren't you hungry?"

The one-eyed woman, judging her position close enough to give the capture a try, whipped her other arm out towards the little black dog with a net she had concealed behind her…

…but Toto had not only evaded the kidnap attempt, he had also clamped his jaws down, hard, on the wrist of the old woman's net hand!

"OOOOWWWW!" She hollered. The little black dog bit her so hard that she dropped the net. It was official, Toto surmised. This woman was a threat. He had bitten her so hard that he felt the taste of her human blood on his tongue. The suddenness of the bite had also forced her to drop the biscuit she offered as well.

Toto released her wrist, dropped harmlessly to the ground and quickly picked up the biscuit with his jaws as the old woman gazed at the bleeding bite mark she had been given. It was his chance to retreat to the others, and he wasn't about to waste it!

Without looking back, Toto ran as fast as he could back to where he knew the others were. They now looked confused, perhaps diverted to the sound of the one-eyed woman's scream. He then heard a loud pop behind him…perhaps around the area where he had spotted the woman…as Dorothy, who was back on the ground, saw Toto race towards her.

He leaped into her surprised arms as the others turned to Dorothy. "Oooh! Hey! You okay, Toto? What's that you've got in your mouth?"

The Scarecrow looked over at the little black dog, seeing a small portion of the biscuit the dog had grabbed at the side of his canine mouth. "Looks like a cookie someone dropped! Finders, keepers…eh, Toto?"

Toto began chewing on the biscuit, which was just as tasty as the woman had said. Perhaps the most delicious biscuit he had ever eaten.

Nick looked a little wary, however, as he watched Toto devour the biscuit. "Hmmm…I wonder if that cookie had anything to do with that scream we heard."

"Or the 'pop' that followed." Ozma took a few steps toward the area Toto had fled from. Holding her hand out, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly and deeply.

When her eyes reopened, she turned back to her curious friends. "Someone was there…" She then stepped over to Toto and hovered a hand over him, closing her eyes in concentration. When her eyes opened, she knelt down and rubbed at Toto's headfur, smiling.

"…but whoever it was is gone now. There's nothing wrong with Toto, either." Ozma then assured.

Although the concerns on everyone's faces had eased, Ozma still looked worried. She wished she could have at least known the name of whoever it was that had screamed, so that she could find that person using the Magic Picture. She knew, for sure, that it was not a cry of despair.

Because it was far too angry.


Watching Betsy giggle as wildly and in such a seemingly uncontrollable fashion certainly disturbed Locasta as she watched the Oklahoma girl with the curly, bright pink hair and the ball-like red nose tumble and stumble about. Nick Chopper was right. Something was definitely wrong with her.

She tried to think of a way to ease her out of this giddy and manic mindset in a manner that would not be too unpleasant, and it occurred to her that she could try for a far more effective version of a mind-based enchantment even humans properly educated in the non-magical version of the art could accomplish.

Hypnosis.

Leaving Betsy in a spacious room of her palace that the Oklahoma girl had made her 'playroom', Locasta acquired the only item she would need to bring about the effect she desired.

Bringing her long staff…which was topped with a stylized "N" at its head…into the room with her, she saw that Betsy was still giggling and cartwheeling about, and stumbling and giggling some more.

When she saw Locasta, she gave her a giddy wave. "Hi!"

Locasta smiled. "Are you enjoying yourself, dear?"

"Oh, yes!" Betsy responded. "I'm havin' th' time o' my life!" She swung her arms into the air in emphasis of this.

Locasta nodded in understanding. "Would you like to play a little game, dear? It's called 'concentration'."

Betsy, however, frowned. "Sounds borin'."

"Oh, no! It's actually quite fun!" Locasta then showed her young guest the staff, which had Betsy's eyes widen in awe as they settled upon the large "N". Good, Locasta thought. The head was already glittering in a manner that would hold the interest of the human eye.

"Keep your eyes on the 'N', dear." Locasta gently instructed, stepping forward slowly as she began to drift the staff head around in a circle. "Don't think of anything but the 'N'. Thaaaat's right…keeeep your eyes on it…waaatch it go aroooound and aroooound…thaaaat's right…"

Betsy's eyes remained fixed on the glittering head of the staff, her shoulders drooping as she listened to Locasta's voice instruct her to ease into a relaxed state. Her giddiness gave way to a much more serene expression, and within a few minutes, and a count to one, Betsy Bobbin was brought into a harmless trance.

"Thaaaat's right, dear. Juuuuust relax." Locasta continued. "You need only listen and respond to the soooound of my voice. Any questions I ask, you must answer honestly, and by doing so, you will feel even more relaaaaaxed and content. Any experiences I ask you to remember, you will remember as if it had juuuuust happened. Understood?"

Betsy nodded slowly, her eyes remaining open in her slack-jawed stare. With no further need for the staff at the moment, she lowered it to her side.

"Good. Veeeery good. Now, listen carefully, Betsy…" Locasta continued to speak slowly and gently as she gradually paced around her. "…last night in a forest, you met someone. What did this person look like?"

Betsy generalized her answer in one word. "Pig."

"The person was a pig?" Locasta asked. "A female pig?"

Betsy nodded. "A clown." She then added.

"A female pig clown." Locasta nodded in understanding. "And…what did this female pig clown do, dear?"

"She…played with me." Betsy gently answered. "Changed my hair…an' my nose."

"Were you scared, Betsy?"

A look of fear was now on the Oklahoma girl's face. "Yes."

"Eeeeasy, dear." Locasta had to ease her back to the comfort of the trance. "There's no reason for you to be afraid now. Juuuuust relaaaax. Now…why don't you take me back to a time before last night, when you were at your happiest? Can you tell me about that time?"

Betsy nodded. "When I was…I was flyin'. When I was…th' Queen o' Diamonds."

"Ahhhh, yesss. That was a fun time, wasn't it? The glittery skin…the hair that glowed as if it were on fire…" Locasta saw a wide smile form on Betsy's lips in her reminiscence, and she hoped this memory was far more powerful to the Oklahoma girl compared to her current situation.

"Now, listen veeeery carefully, dear…" Locasta continued. "…take us back to this moment. The way you are now, with your cute, round red nose and your bright pink hair. Do you like being this way?"

Betsy nodded again, smiling at this thought.

"Why is that, dear?" Locasta gently asked. "What is it about being as you are now that makes you happy?"

"I feel like…a clown." Betsy answered. "I can't feel nothin'. I'm all…tickly inside. I…I wanna look like a clown. Nimmie says she wants me t' be one."

Locasta nodded in understanding. "Do you like making Nimmie happy?"

Betsy nodded in her reply. "She's nice."

"Do you like clowns, Betsy?" Locasta then asked.

Betsy hesitated before she gave her straight-faced answer. "No."

"Then why do you want to be one?" Locasta asked. "Just to make Nimmie happy?"

"I…I wanna be my own kinda clown." Betsy replied, still deep in her trance, and complying with Locasta's instructions.

Locasta wondered how Betsy would reply to her next inquiry. "What would the Queen of Diamonds think? Has Nimmie ever met her?"

Betsy shook her head. "No."

"And you know that it was the scary female pig clown who made you a clown, right?"

Betsy nodded.

"Why do you think she wanted to do that, dear?" Locasta asked.

"She…wanted t' play." Betsy responded, after a moment of thought on her reply.

Locasta thought on this response. "Are you afraid of the pig clown now, Betsy?"

Betsy shook her head. "No."

"Do you want to see her again?" Locasta then asked. "Do you want to be with her?"

Betsy nodded.

Locasta then stepped over to Betsy, holding out her aged hand. "Give me your hand, dear. I want to show you something."

Betsy complied, and the Good Witch of the North led her young guest over to a large, full-length mirror. She then swiveled it around so that the reflective mirror surface on the other side could be seen. This particular side of the mirror was surrounded by a radium frame, whereas the other side looked entirely benign. An ordinary, non-magical mirror.

Leading Betsy over to this mirror, she had her stand up straight so that she could see all of herself…from head to toe…in the reflective surface. Locasta then stepped out of the range of the mirror's reflection, speaking as she moved. "Look upon yourself now, dear. Do you see the clown you want to be?"

Betsy shook her head, looking a little sad.

"This mirror can help you, dear." Locasta explained. "Clooooose your eyes now, Betsy. Now think of the perfect clown face makeup. It is exactly the way you want your face to look. Now bring a hand above your face, and then sloooowly let it pass over your face."

Following Locasta's instructions, still deep in her trance, Betsy did not feel any different when her own hand passed over her face. There was no warmth. No feeling of makeup on her face.

"Open your eyes now, dear." Locasta slowly instructed.

When Betsy did so, her eyes widened in her amazement. The mirror reflection showed that she had the exact makeup design she had envisioned on her face! It went perfectly with her pink hair, too, with the perfect colors around her eyes and her lips to go with the clown white makeup base. The only issue remaining was in the rest of her outfit, which was still the nightgown she wore during her previous evening's sleep at the tin palace.

When she noted this, her expression went from joy to disappointment. The smile melted about a minute or so after it had appeared.

Locasta noticed this as well. "There's something wrong, isn't there? Doooon't worry, dear…the mirror can fix that, too. Cloooooose your eyes. Thaaat's riiiight." Betsy did so, and Locasta continued. "Concentrate now on the perfect clown outfit. Something that will go well with your makeup. Think loooong and haaaard if you have to…and then, when you feel you have it all ready to wear, open your eyes."

As happy as she was upon seeing her face makeup, she was quite overjoyed when she saw how she looked upon opening her eyes this time. A white ruff was wrapped around her neck, and her puffy outfit had large puffballs posing as buttons running down the center of the outfit, which had a rainbow-like design scheme in its succession of vertical lines running the full length of the outfit, each line a different color. There were ruffles at each wrist, and ruffles down by her ankles. She saw that she was wearing bright red boots with bells upon them, and toe points that curled upward. All of it was just as she had envisioned, even though she was not actually wearing any of it. Naturally, the only things that were real were her bright pink hair and her round red nose.

But it all looked so perfect to her. The ideal clown image, and one she felt she could be happy with. Her smile was a rather dreamy one as she continued to linger her gaze at the wonderfully-adorned reflection.

"It looks perfect to you, doesn't it, Betsy?" Locasta asked, arching an eyebrow.

Betsy nodded, still smiling. "Yes."

"There was one question you did not answer though, Betsy." Locasta then gently reminded. "What would the Queen of Diamonds think of all this?"

It was the one question Betsy found surprisingly difficult to answer. She went quiet, although she was still staring upon the image of her ideal clown appearance. The clown's expression, naturally, mirrored her own.

"Do you think Nimmie should meet the Queen of Diamonds?" Locasta then asked. "Do you think she would like the Queen?"

"I…I don't know..." Betsy finally responded, after a long moment of silence.

With the memories of Betsy's appearance as the glittery acrobat adequately recalled, the enchanted mirror was empowered enough…and wide enough…to call upon its next unexpected trick.

As if the image were standing right behind the clown within the mirror, wearing the same expression Betsy wore, the exact image of Betsy's Queen of Diamonds aspect stepped out from behind the clown and stood idly to the right side of the clown.

Although Betsy's own expression became one of awe, the expression on the two semblances within the mirror remained unaltered.

"How is it that you became the Queen of Diamonds, Betsy?" was Locasta's next question.

"Makeup woman." Betsy softly replied, still in her trance. "Celeste."

Locasta smiled. She recognized the name. A large winkie woman she trained who was able to master cantrip magic, but could not go any farther. Celeste was surprisingly content with this.

Locasta knew Celeste to be a kind and creative woman otherwise. The effort to free Betsy from the pig clown's enchantment would have been a little easier if the Oklahoma girl knew a little more about Celeste, but the Good Witch of the North had to work with this handicap.

"Do you think Celeste is a nice woman, Betsy?" Locasta next inquired.

The pink-haired girl nodded. "Yes."

"Why, Betsy?" Locasta hoped this inquiry would be the difference maker. "What was it about Celeste that made her different from the pig clown?"

Another long moment of silence followed as Betsy considered this. The expressions on the faces of both images in the mirror now looked curious as they stared back at Betsy.

Betsy first considered the pig clown. A stranger she had just met. Fun, but scary for the fact that she had led the wary girl into a deep, dark portion of a forest. She had stalked Betsy, and had then unexpectedly imposed her current alterations on her. Perhaps a hint of things to come for the Oklahoma girl.

And then, there was Celeste's creation. The Queen of Diamonds. Although Celeste was also a stranger, she was just as lively as the pig clown. She was expected, too, as Betsy needed a makeup job for her performance as the acrobat in the showcasing of her friend, Oscar Diggs. She didn't feel very worried around Celeste, and it was her first real experience of being physically altered by magic.

Betsy began to see the difference now, realizing that Celeste's Queen of Diamonds design, although unexpected, was essentially the makeup job Betsy needed.

The pig clown, on the other hand, gave Betsy something she never asked for. The porcine creature had even tried to give her the appearance of a type of entertainer she normally did not like.

And then, it came to Betsy.

Her appearance as the Queen of Diamonds…unlike the pig clown's enchantment…was temporary. Celeste had even assured her of this.

Whereas the pig clown never gave Betsy any choice. She imposed the current alterations upon the Oklahoma girl against her will. Although the Queen of Diamonds appearance was unexpected, it was the makeup job Betsy needed.

And she loved it.

"I…I wanted what Celeste gave me." Betsy finally replied.

Locasta smiled in her relief. At the same time, the images of the clown and the Queen of Diamonds now pressed their hands upon their sides of the mirror. The clown used her left hand, and the glittery queen used her right. The fingers were spread out slightly as the palms pressed against their side of the mirror reflection.

Betsy tilted her head curiously, although she realized what this meant in the next moment.

She was being called upon to make a choice.

Yet, even as she raised a hand to meet that of the Queen of Diamonds, she hesitated, glancing at her perfect clown semblance. Her thoughts were of the fun she imagined she could have as a clown.

But it was the fun she knew she could have as the Queen of Diamonds compared to being a clown. She remembered how many people had enjoyed her performance. She saw their amazement at her acrobatic work.

What would being a clown get her, she asked herself? Laughs. Her being silly, even if it was meant as harmless entertainment. Much of that laughter would remind her of the mocking laughter the other kids at the orphanage had taunted her with. She didn't want to have to deal with that possibility.

But then, the clown image's other hand went to her round red nose, and she squeezed it once. No sound could be heard.

The image then looked to Betsy curiously, squeezing the nose again, and silently indicating that she could hear no sound. Indicating her ear, she seemed to indicate that Betsy…the real one…needed to squeeze hers so the sound could be heard.

But Betsy knew what would happen if she did that.

Further, with Betsy in a trance state, and in the comfort of the thoughts she herself had rationalized, the real Oklahoma girl knew what needed to happen next. A reflection of the decision she had made in that very moment.

Her hand pressed against the offered imprint of the Queen of Diamonds.

Although she feared that the clown image would look sad, its giddy expression did melt to a more neutral expression, while the image of the Queen of Diamonds now smiled in her relief. The real Betsy even felt the warmth and texture of human skin upon her hand, even though it was a mirror image!

The image of the clown, however, now had a bit of an angry expression upon her face.

The smiling face of the Queen of Diamonds suddenly went serious, and the digits of the mirror image suddenly curled between the spread-out digits of the real Betsy's hand and held tight!

In the next moment, the tickle-wrought numbness all over Betsy's body began to dissolve as the clown image now screamed angrily and hatefully, her fists clenched furiously as her body began to look transparent, fading from view. At the same time, Betsy felt warm sensations at her hair and her nose, and she saw the roundness of her nose begin to shrink and re-form a more human appearance.

All throughout this incredible moment, the eyes of the image of the Queen of Diamonds glowed with a bright golden light. The image's focus was on the real Betsy, completely ignoring the hateful screaming of the disappearing clown next to her.

In the next moment, the clown was completely gone, and Locasta saw that Betsy's hair and nose had been restored.

This also had the effect of bringing Betsy out of her trance completely, and her eyes widened and blinked rapidly. Her free hand went to her nose.

Much to Betsy's amazement and relief, it felt completely human.

She noticed that her other hand, however, was being held by an image of herself that wore the glittery skin, the outfit, and the fiery hair of the Queen of Diamonds. Its tight grip loosened, and then let Betsy go.

Stepping away from Betsy, the real Oklahoma girl saw the skin, the hair, and the outfit of her mirror image dissolve to reflect how Betsy Bobbin looked at this very moment.

A young girl freed from alterations wrought by what Locasta suspected to be a dark enchantment.

The kind old witch's smile widened, relieved that Betsy had made a choice the Good Witch of the North was in full agreement with. She knew Glinda would be equally pleased, too, were she here to witness this. Locasta then stepped over to the mirror and swiveled it to expose its other, non-magical side, realizing its enchanted side had done its good work.

Betsy gave her nose a morbidly curious squeeze, but she thankfully heard no funny noise. Her nose felt, in every respect, like a human nose once more. Although she certainly felt relief with this, her expression couldn't help but betray a sense of regret.

Locasta placed a hand on Betsy's shoulder in her concern. "What's wrong, dear?"

"I guess Nimmie can't have her clown." Betsy lamented.

Locasta giggled at this. "Why not introduce her to the Queen of Diamonds someday? I think Nimmie would enjoy that so much more than to see you in clown makeup. Just think of how many people loved that show, myself included! You were amazing during that performance, Betsy! I think if you asked Emperor Nicholas, you could easily come up with an excuse to do a show in which the Queen makes a re-appearance."

The smile returned to Betsy's face upon hearing this rationale. "Yeah…I guess you're right." A thought then occurred to the Oklahoma girl which dissolved her smile once again. "What do y' think that pig clown was, Locasta?"

The benevolent old witch gave this question a bit of thought before she answered. "Well…I'm afraid I could only guess, but…maybe you can help me figure it out, Betsy. Do you remember what the pig clown looked like? Was her head the only thing about her that was pig-like? Did she look human otherwise?"

Betsy shook her head. "She was as fat as a pig. She had hooves, too. Hands an' feet."

Locasta nodded. "Then it might not be one of the phanfasms. Those creatures are distinct in that they look human, but their heads have been changed into those of various animals."

Betsy couldn't help but be curious about this. "Were th' phanfasms human once?"

"According to Glinda, yes." Locasta confirmed. "A long time ago, during the reign of King Pastoria, they tried to invade the land of Oz. They were all defeated and banished to a mountain range on the other side of the deadly desert. Back then, they were protectors and sympathizers of animals. In a way, they still are. But now, they're all erbs, and erbs have one thing in common. They're all irredeemably evil semblances of what they used to be. In the case of the phanfasms, their love of animals was twisted and corrupted. I fancy that's why their ruler, a very powerful sorcerer called the First and Foremost, gave his people…many of whom had been compelled by magic to serve him against their natural wills…the animal heads they wear to this very day."

"But…what is it that turns a human into an erb?" Betsy asked.

"That's something else we have yet to figure out." Locasta answered. "All we know is that we banished Lord Phan and his people to the faraway mountain range called Mount Phantastico. Obviously, something within the mountains corrupted and changed them into the erbs they became."

Betsy nodded. "But if th' pig clown wasn't a phanfasm, what was she? I heard someone talk about erbs b'fore. Said one of 'em was a…a 'carna-somethin''."

Locasta nodded. "We've never actually encountered one of the carnevillans. Glinda suspects they are the newest species of erb."

"Well…if y' ask me, Locasta," Betsy mused. "I think I jus' met one of 'em."

Locasta frowned in confusion. "What makes you think that?"

Betsy's response made the logic all too clear to the Good Witch of the North. "'Cause anoth'r word for circus…is th' word carnival."


Note that the backstory of the phanfasms…and the concept of the carnevillans…are unique to my stories. Mr. Baum never elaborated on the origins of the erbs when he introduced the phanfasms in book 6, The Emerald City of Oz.