A note for those of you (most of you) who don't know: the main character in this story is an original character, a teenaged girl - species: Arctic tern - named Evelyn. She is an 'apprentice' villain, and goes by the name Torpedo, which yes, she agrees is stupid. (See my fic 'Bearly Getting It' for her origin story.) She's kind of a sarcastic kid. She wasn't invented by me but rather by a friend of mine back in high school, but I took rather a liking to her. Anyways, at the time of this story, she is hanging out at Quackerjack's place. That's about all you need to know about her. :) The raccoon character near the end of the story is one of my own creations, Persuasion, a villainess. You don't really need to know anything about her, so don't worry about it. - Sparky

The Wizard of Odd
by
Cynthia "Sparky" Read
Chapter I

Torpedo kicked the broken dishwasher. "Why do I have all the luck?" she complained to herself, then resolutely began washing the dishes by hand.

While she appreciated the silence generated by Quackerjack's absences, it did make for dull afternoons. Oh well. She'd just do what she normally did - read.

There was only one problem with that: she'd already read everything she owned at least a dozen times over, and she wasn't about to go up to the street above to buy a new book. There was only one thing left to do.

Torpedo shuddered at the thought.

As she entered Quackerjack's study, she tried to reassure herself. "It's only literature," she thought. "Nothing to be nervous about."

But she was nervous. She was terribly nervous at the prospect of reading a book from Quackerjack's private library. Not that she didn't want to pry into his things, no - she just didn't want to subject herself to anything that might switch her mentality to his.

"Hmm...Pinocchio...Alice in Wonderland...every Dr. Suess imaginable...Something called Maus...The Wizard of Oz - Oh, hey, neat! Wizards! That might not be too bad."

So she pulled The Wizard of Oz down from its shelf, and looked around for a suitable place to read it. She finally decided on the toy workroom, as it wasn't too dusty, and climbed up on top of an oversized alphabet block. She settled down and began to read the Prologue, which was written by some obscure magazine columnist:

This story begins in the heart of the Dust Bowl, more specifically, Kansas. It involves a poor country girl and her adventures in a magical land -

"Yucch!" screamed Torpedo, pushing the book away. "'Dust Bowl'? 'Kansas'? 'A poor country girl'? Boring!" She settled herself more comfortably on the block. "I'll skip to the 'magical land' part. Ahem."

She flipped ahead a few pages and began where the color illustrations did. She settled herself even more comfortably on the block, and soon she was so comfortable that she wasn't quite sure just what she was reading anymore and what she was dreaming...

A sudden jarring of the giant alphabet block woke the tern up with a start. She sat up and looked around in alarm.

The block looked the same, at least, but the toy workroom sure didn't. It had metamorphosed into a rolling countryside, complete with fruit trees sporting merrily chirping songbirds, and flowers grew positively everywhere.

What had happened? Torpedo tugged on her braid in frustration. This was definately weird. She tugged on her other braid.

Other braid..?

Obviously her surroundings weren't the only things that had changed in appearance.

Torpedo screamed. For, horror of horror, her wetsuit had disappeared, only to be replaced with -

"I hate gingham!" - Yes, a blue-and-white checked gingham frock and matching white apron. A brief examination with her hands revealed to the tern that her hair was now divided into two braids, one on each side of her head (although she still wore her trusty diving goggles).

"I look like a hick!" Torpedo stomped furiously around on top of the block. "Oh, and I bet I have freckles, too!"

"Excuse me," called a man's voice from below, "but I wish you wouldn't do that - its making the mess down here bigger."

Torpedo arrested her tirade and looked over the edge of the block. The eggman standing on the ground below took off his floppy blue hat and waved it at her. He cupped one hand around his bill and shouted: "Thanks, kid. We's appreciate it, really."

"'We'?" Torpedo asked blankly.

Three other eggmen stepped around the corner of the block to stand next to the one who had spoken.

"I've never seen an eggman dressed in blue before," Torpedo had to comment.

"Hey! Who you callin' an eggman?" demanded the largest of the agents. "We's Munchkins! An' blue looks real spiffy on you, too!"

"Aw, shet up!" screamed Ammonia Pine, whacking the tall Munchkin over the head with a plumber's helper as she arrived on a giant soap bubble. She patted the plunger affectionately when she was done. "Ha! That'll teach ya to make fun of a good clean color like blue!"

The Munchkin sniveled and rubbed his dented helmet without further comment.

Pine looked up at Torpedo. "Well, whaddya gawkin' at, ya hick?"

The tern closed her gaping bill with a snap. "I am not a hick!" She jumped down off the block and stormed over to the F.O.W.L. agent in a huff. "Let's see what you call me after you've been chlorinated, you bigmouthed - " Torpedo stopped short upon realizing that her squirt-gun had gone the way of her wetsuit. She forced a smile. "Oops," she managed.

Ammonia Pine wrinkled her bill in disgust. "You farmer kids are all alike: dirty! And I see the prop department hasn't been doing its job again...here, you'll need this." She pulled a large wicker basket out of her apron and tossed it to Torpedo, then turned back to the Munchkins. "Now, where's this 'filthy mess' you were complainin' about?"

Torpedo followed the Munchkins as they led Pine around to the other side of the block. The agent screeched in horror at what she saw.

"What a disgusting mess!" she exclaimed. "And all I brought was an XL-400 squeegie! Now I'll have to go back for reinforcements! You stay here!" she ordered the Munchkins.

"Um...excuse me..." Torpedo stepped forward quickly before the agent could blow another soap bubble and float away again. "...But can you tell me the way to the nearest service-station? I seem to need some directions."

Ammonia Pine looked down at her in pity. "Poor child," she said, softening. "No direction in life, huh? Well, I think I know of someone who can help you." She took Torpedo by the arm and led her to the edge of a row of hedges. "Look through there," the agent said.

Torpedo peered through the foliage. Beyond it lay a road that seemed to be covered with some kind of paper.

"What's that?" Torpedo asked.

Pine looked at her gravely. "That's contact paper, hon," she told the tern. "Keeps the pavement from getting scuffed. Yellow brick doesn't come cheap these days, you know." Pine looked down at Torpedo's feet. "Oh, figures!" she exclaimed. "None of you country kids ever wear shoes! Well, that won't do! I can't let you walk on that good clean paper like that! Wait here."

Ammonia Pine turned and went back to the block. She came back in a moment carrying two silver objects. "Put these on," she told the tern.

Torpedo looked at the objects blankly. "Birkenstorks?"

"Yeah! They don't scuff." Pine watched carefully as Torpedo put the shoes on. "Now, this here road will lead you straight to the great Wizard of Oz. He'll give you some direction in life."

Torpedo still felt lost. "What's Oz?"

The agent stretched out her arms. "This whole place is Oz, hon. Right now you're in the Land of the Munchkins."

"Are...are you a Munchkin?"

Pine shook her head. "Not me, babe. I'm the Good Witch of the North."

"Oh, right." Torpedo looked at the Silver Birkenstorks. "Whose are these, then?"

"Those? They're the sole (heh heh) property of the Wicked Witch of the East, but don't worry about returning them."

"Why not?"

The Witch of the North shrugged. "Well, remember that big mess back there under your block?"

Torpedo gasped. "You mean..?"

The Good Witch nodded. "Splat," she supplied. "Incedentally, do you have a license to drive one of those things?"

Torpedo shook her head numbly. What a day this was turning out to be! This was certainly the last time she would ever delve into a book that rated twenty-three on the Most Likely To Become a Famous Musical list.

"Oh, and by the way," put in the Good Witch, stepping forward, "the trip to the Emerald City where the Wizard lives is pretty demanding. There are all kinds of nasty things on the way that would love to snatch you up and fricasee you for supper. But with this magic seal, none will dare to harm you."

And with that the Witch took up her plumber's helper and drove the suction-cup end of it into Torpedo's forehead.

"Hey - watch it!" screamed the tern, struggling against the pull of the plunger. "Let me go!"

The Good Witch yanked, and the cup released Torpedo with a pop.

The tern reached up and felt her forehead, and discovered there a round shiny mark. "Oh, my god," she grumbled, "I've been sanitized, just like a toilet."

"Yeah!" agreed the Good Witch empathatically. "Now none of those vicious animals will touch you. Everybody knows that uncivillized creatures don't like to break those seals."

Torpedo chose not to comment, so instead she bade farewell to the Good Witch and the Munchkins, and started on her way.