AUTHOR'S NOTE: ive been getting a lot of reviews from people saying that i
got ginger and the professor's names wrong. I KNOW THAT!!!!!!!! i based the
prof.'s "real" name on the actor's name, but i hated 'tina louise' (who
played the real ginger), so i changed it! OKAY?!?! I DON'T LIKE THE
CHARACTERS' REAL NAMES!! JUST DEAL!!!!
...................................sorry.........................
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Wow, that was amazing!" Mary Ann squealed enthusiastically, after viewing the short scene that Ginger and the professor had shot. She was walking back to her hut with her actress friend.
"Was it really that great?" Ginger asked. She had blushed furiously during the viewing, even though she'd kissed several actors before.
"It was wonderful acting!" Mary Ann gushed.
"Well, it really wasn't...acting," Ginger pointed out. "I sort of..."
"Whatcha mean?" Mary Ann asked, a little confused. "You were there, in front of a camera, with the professor! Acting! Even I know that! Well, I don't know about you, but I'm very tired. Night, Ginger!" She said this all very quickly.
Ginger slowly slipped into her bed. What was wrong with her? Why had she kept that kiss going, even when it wasn't necessary? What had she just been trying to tell Mary Ann a second ago? It was all so confusing!!
"I don't really love him, do I?" Ginger whispered to herself. "Surely I'd know it if I did, wouldn't I?"
"Ginger, are you talking about Marlon Brando again?" Mary Ann grumbled, half-asleep. Ginger jumped from surprise.
"No, I was just...no, nothing." Ginger's quick response was followed by Mary Ann's light snoring.
And, Ginger began to dream....
"Someday, they're gonna make a statue outta me!" Gilligan cried, pointing his finger into the air.
"Well don't start posing for it now!" Mrs. Howell snapped. "There's animals that need to be fed! Get to work!"
"Yes, ma'am."
Ginger walked up to Mary Ann, who was holding an adorable little dog.
"Excuse me, but do you-"
"Shh!" Mary Ann shushed her, barely turning around. "I'm in the middle of a song, here!"
"But wait, I have a very important question!"
"Well, what is it?"
"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"
Mary Ann stopped staring, and turned around to look at Ginger. "What in the world are you wearing?! That dress makes you look like you're in a circus tent!"
Ginger's cheeks flushed scarlet. "I didn't design this outfit, you know! It comes with my job!"
"Which is what? District attorney?"
"Very funny. I'm Glinger, the Good Witch of the North. Don't you know who I am? Haven't you heard of me?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Glinger. Here in Kansas, we don't ever see any witches, wizards, or anything like that. Can't you see the black and white? So go take your flashy colored dress outta--" Mary Ann's eyes widened, and she stopped talking.
"What is it?" Glinger asked, turning around. She gasped. "Why, if my fancy Technicolor eyes don't decieve me! It's Frank Morgan!"
A handsome young man walked up to them. "Actually, no. But may I say what gorgeous Technicolor eyes you have?"
"Why thank you," Ginger said, curtseying slightly. "My name is Glinger, the Good Witch of the North."
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself: I am the Professor Of Oz."
"That has a nice ring to it," said Mary Ann, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "My name's Mary Ann Gale."
"Pleased to make your acquaintence," the Professor of Oz stammered, not really taking his eyes off of Glinger.
"Have you ever been to the Emerald City?" Glinger asked him.
"Why yes, it's in Oz. Unfortunately, I've never been."
"I live there! Would you allow me to give you a tour of the place?"
"Certainly!" the professor answered, flashing her a smile. "Come, let's go."
Glinger giggled and smiled flirtatiously, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. "I like the way you make those quick decisions!"
"How's this for quick, baby?" Before Glinger had a chance to respond, the Professor of Oz grabbed her waist, and kissed her ardently.
Ginger woke up in a start. She looked around the hut, listening for something. There was no sound except for Mary Ann's heavy breathing. She stopped to think.
That was one of the weirdest dreams Ginger had ever had. She'd never liked The Wizard of Oz, and had always especially hated the pink poofy dress that Glinda had been forced to wear. Oh, that was queer!
"But he kissed me," she whispered to herself. Trying not to scream with joy, Ginger flopped her bed back onto the pillow, smiling widely.
"Wow, that was amazing!" Mary Ann squealed enthusiastically, after viewing the short scene that Ginger and the professor had shot. She was walking back to her hut with her actress friend.
"Was it really that great?" Ginger asked. She had blushed furiously during the viewing, even though she'd kissed several actors before.
"It was wonderful acting!" Mary Ann gushed.
"Well, it really wasn't...acting," Ginger pointed out. "I sort of..."
"Whatcha mean?" Mary Ann asked, a little confused. "You were there, in front of a camera, with the professor! Acting! Even I know that! Well, I don't know about you, but I'm very tired. Night, Ginger!" She said this all very quickly.
Ginger slowly slipped into her bed. What was wrong with her? Why had she kept that kiss going, even when it wasn't necessary? What had she just been trying to tell Mary Ann a second ago? It was all so confusing!!
"I don't really love him, do I?" Ginger whispered to herself. "Surely I'd know it if I did, wouldn't I?"
"Ginger, are you talking about Marlon Brando again?" Mary Ann grumbled, half-asleep. Ginger jumped from surprise.
"No, I was just...no, nothing." Ginger's quick response was followed by Mary Ann's light snoring.
And, Ginger began to dream....
"Someday, they're gonna make a statue outta me!" Gilligan cried, pointing his finger into the air.
"Well don't start posing for it now!" Mrs. Howell snapped. "There's animals that need to be fed! Get to work!"
"Yes, ma'am."
Ginger walked up to Mary Ann, who was holding an adorable little dog.
"Excuse me, but do you-"
"Shh!" Mary Ann shushed her, barely turning around. "I'm in the middle of a song, here!"
"But wait, I have a very important question!"
"Well, what is it?"
"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"
Mary Ann stopped staring, and turned around to look at Ginger. "What in the world are you wearing?! That dress makes you look like you're in a circus tent!"
Ginger's cheeks flushed scarlet. "I didn't design this outfit, you know! It comes with my job!"
"Which is what? District attorney?"
"Very funny. I'm Glinger, the Good Witch of the North. Don't you know who I am? Haven't you heard of me?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Glinger. Here in Kansas, we don't ever see any witches, wizards, or anything like that. Can't you see the black and white? So go take your flashy colored dress outta--" Mary Ann's eyes widened, and she stopped talking.
"What is it?" Glinger asked, turning around. She gasped. "Why, if my fancy Technicolor eyes don't decieve me! It's Frank Morgan!"
A handsome young man walked up to them. "Actually, no. But may I say what gorgeous Technicolor eyes you have?"
"Why thank you," Ginger said, curtseying slightly. "My name is Glinger, the Good Witch of the North."
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself: I am the Professor Of Oz."
"That has a nice ring to it," said Mary Ann, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "My name's Mary Ann Gale."
"Pleased to make your acquaintence," the Professor of Oz stammered, not really taking his eyes off of Glinger.
"Have you ever been to the Emerald City?" Glinger asked him.
"Why yes, it's in Oz. Unfortunately, I've never been."
"I live there! Would you allow me to give you a tour of the place?"
"Certainly!" the professor answered, flashing her a smile. "Come, let's go."
Glinger giggled and smiled flirtatiously, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. "I like the way you make those quick decisions!"
"How's this for quick, baby?" Before Glinger had a chance to respond, the Professor of Oz grabbed her waist, and kissed her ardently.
Ginger woke up in a start. She looked around the hut, listening for something. There was no sound except for Mary Ann's heavy breathing. She stopped to think.
That was one of the weirdest dreams Ginger had ever had. She'd never liked The Wizard of Oz, and had always especially hated the pink poofy dress that Glinda had been forced to wear. Oh, that was queer!
"But he kissed me," she whispered to herself. Trying not to scream with joy, Ginger flopped her bed back onto the pillow, smiling widely.