Welcome one, welcome all! To the hardest chapter to write yet. Curse you plot, getting all in the way!

Enjoy, yo.

Reever pedaled furiously, the bricks sending jitters all along his rickety bicycle. He adjusted his wings again as he weaved down the yellow brick road, in the distance ahead loomed a great green monolith of a castle. He glared at it, and then squeaked slightly as he hit an uncomfortable bump. The jumble of papers, packages and boards strapped hastily to the back of the bike fluttered as he sped along.

"I swear, he's had too much coffee…this is a horrible idea." He muttered to himself. "And why do I have to be the monkey? Johnny looks far more like a monkey…"

A low rumbling of thunder/sheet metal being waved could be heard in the distance. He continued to bike.

OOOOOOO

The quartet trudged on under the obnoxiously bright blue sky, over the garish yellow brick and beside the eye-blindingly bright green grass.

"Who colored this, a 5 year old?" The Bookman blinked against the sun.

"No, probably you." Allen had quickly learnt to stab back with some of his own quips. The Bookman had to be treated like he was a child, whack him one and he'll learn eventually after he gets bored with being whacked that he should stop and maybe go play with something else. He wasn't bored yet, or he just had a thick skull.

"Oh, hey, boys! I can smell something? I think?" The Lioness tapped her chin and leaned forward.

"Yourself? You've been living in the woods for days." The Scarecrow wrinkled his nose.

"Ah, that's mean Scarecrow, I knew you had it in you!" The Bookman reached to give him a slap on the back, stopping promptly as death laser eye vision bored into his skull.

"No! That's not it! It smells like…"

"I know the smell." The Scarecrow crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Soba." He grated out the word as if it was disgusting.

"It seems gooood…" Allen clutched his stomach and groaned. The Scarecrow glared at him and turned, one hand on Mugen-stick.

"Never say that again!" The Scarecrow looked positively murderous, homicidal intent gleaming in his eyes.

"Uh…okay." Allen cringed. The Bookman let out a nasally chuckle.

"Sensitive, are you?" He tried to hide the Cheshire Cat grin spreading across his face, unsuccessfully.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT." The Bookman was pinned to the ground by a very angry Asian and a large pointy stick.

"Uwah! You keep dropping pieces! And you always mutter things about Buckwheat! AHHHHPLEASEPLEASENOTTHERE!" He squealed slightly.

While distracted in their bickering, they hadn't noticed (or perhaps they had and just didn't care) Allen and the Lioness wandering further up the path. Allen's growling stomach grew louder and louder as the smell of noodles floated in the air. As they grew closer, a small stand, with a glowing neon sign on top stating "SOBA" was parked precariously on the side of the road. Inside the stand, complete with cook uniform, stood a bored looking blond man watching some pots and looking busy.

"Oooh, Allen…can we get some? I'm starving. I haven't eaten in days." The Lionness looked imploring up at Allen, who was drooling buckets at the sight and smell of food.

"Here! There's 40 dollars! How much Soba can you give me?!" Allen shoved the two crumpled twenties at the man, who nearly dropped the cigarette in his mouth out of surprise.

"Um, you really don't have to give me all th-"

"TAKE IT." Allen vigorously shook the money at him. The Lioness looked worried, and tears began to well up in her eyes. The man gingerly took the money and promptly dumped an entire pot's worth of noodles onto a plate and turned his back to the too. He picked up a red bottle, aptly labeled POISONOUS: DO NOT PUT INTO FOOD and dumped it on the plate. He could hear the sound of sobs welling up behind him, and didn't even want to know the relationship problem the two were having.

"I-I'm ju-just so-so appreciative!"

He quickly handed them the plate and scuttled off behind his stand. What could he spend 40 dollars on?

He had always wanted some walkie-talkies or maybe some roller skates.

OOOOOO

"And that's why it ok-what the hell?!" The Bookman stumbled (not so) gracefully over the outstretched arm of Allen, spread-eagled out on the yellow bricks. Near him lay The Lioness, snoring softly. Even Timcampy lay motionless on the ground. He squatted down, and picked up one of her arms, and dropped it. It fell to the ground with a flesh-hitting-brick noise. Near the side of the road, there was a mysterious patch of flattened grass, but no stand in sight.

"Woah, this is like that time I got drugged by a hook-!" The Bookman rubbed the back of his head where Mugen-stick was starting to form a dent. The Scarecrow held an empty plate of soba in one hand. "Oi? What's that?"

"They ate it all. And now they won't wake up." The Scarecrow stated bluntly.

"Well I see that. What do we do? Should we just take their wallets and leave 'em?"

"Wake them up!"

"How?"

"Use your Bookman powers, you stupid Rabbit!"

"Bookman wadditzadit?!" A loud crack resounded as the Scarecrow broke the plate over the Bookman's head. Whether through the force of impact, or just plain melodrama, the Bookman keeled over, out like a light.

Suddenly the Scarecrow felt a small blast from behind him, and coughed as glitter and bubbles flew up into his mouth, and sneezed as the smell of hairspray and despair filled his nose.

"What the hell?!"

"O-Oh De-Dear! I'm far too late!" The Decently Good Witch of the North began to cry. She sobbed harder when a stick was thrust under her nose.

"Explain yourself woman!"

"AH! I'm here to help! T-they've been p-poisoned by the Head Sup-supervisor of the West!" She adjusted her pink dress awkwardly, trying not to move too much to avoid the wrath of Mugen.

"Fix it." He growled out. She coughed and pulled out her wand. She waved it about. She twirled it. She pointed it at Allen's prone form with gusto. She turned the sharp end towards herself and began a stabbing motion.

"I'M SUCH A FAILURE. Th-that's all I-I am in lu-life! A Plot Device!"

"Don't do that woman!" The Scarecrow grabbed the end of the wand and yanked it out of her hands. "I will do it!" He first clonked Allen in the head with it, sending a shower of sparks and birds into the air. Then he poked the Lioness harshly in the stomach, the wand spouting glitter and ribbons. Last, he hit the prone Bookman with a well aimed kick to the rump. He handed back the wand to the sobbing Witch.

"Useless."

"I-I AM USELESS." She sobbed even harder. A large poof and she disappeared, 'maybe this time, I'll try drying my hair in the bathtub.'.

"Che. Now what?" The Scarecrow looked down as Allen groaned and sat up. Allen looked panicky, he quickly patted down his chest, and lifted the rim of his pants. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, much to the anger and confusion of the Scarecrow.

"I had a terrible, terrible nightmare." Allen shuddered, not mentioning more. The Lioness sat up next to him, rubbing her forehead.

"What? What happened…?"

"A horrid pink monster came and cried at you. I hit you with its stick." The Scarecrow crossed his arms and glared. It was the two things he knew to do in times of crisis. Hit things and glare.

"Wait, so that plate of food we ate…?"

"You ate, more like." The Lioness gave a mock glare to Allen.

"Was sent by the Head Supervisor?!" Allen looked at his feet quickly. The bowling shoes where still there, unfortunately.

The Bookman awoke with a loud snort and slightly muffled squawking.

"I just had a terrible dream this was all a terrific allegory representing the social and political crisis of the Populists in the Gilded Era!" The Scarecrow glared at him and the Lioness merely blinked, obviously confused.

"What, dear?" The Lioness raised a hand to his forehead, as he continued to spout. He felt terribly cold, although generally one does when one has no flowing blood on account of not having a heart. She quickly retracted her hand, and worried if it was contagious.

"I can't believehe," the Bookman pointed accusingly at Allen, "represents the American people, of all the kids to pick fro-!"

"I don't understand half the things you blather about, really Bookman." Allen shook his head, slightly sadly. The Bookman was tapping the yellow brick road, muttering something incoherent about 'The Gold Standard' and 'she sure doesn't look like Williams Jennings Bryan.'

"Oh dear, here we go again."

"You have no shoes!" The Bookman stopped his tirade to point at the Lioness.

"That's the worst one yet Bookman!" Allen crossed his arms.

"No, she has no shoes! LOOK." The Lioness looked down at her feet.

"Oh! Oh no!"

OOOOOO

In a castle, far far away, Johnny had stopped waving sheet metal because his arms got tired. However, screams could still be heard bouncing off the stone walls.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GO THE WRONG SHOES?!"

"THEY WERE ON HER FEET! I ASSUMED YOU MEANT HER!"

"DAMN YOU REEVER!" Komui threw his last coffee mug at his retreated assiantant's head.

"I guess there's some things that are better done yourself." He adjusted his glasses, grinning evilly. He loaded up his aerodynamic Komurin with several important items and promptly leapt out a window, laughing easily.

Reever took the chance to crawl out of the closet, breathing heavily.

"He's gone mad." Oh well, nothing new.

OOOOOO

"WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE LIZARD, THE REPTILIAN LIZARD OF BOZ."

"Please stop! I know every word that can possibly rhyme with Wizard! PLEASE." Allen covered his ears with his hands, attempting to ignore the raucous red-head sauntering beside him. (These were blizzard, gizzard, grizzard, izzard, and quizard, alphabetically.)

"Look! The Emerald Castle! We're here!" The Lioness pointed excitedly. In the near distance loomed a great green monolith of a structure. It's verdant towers rose into the sky, and as it drew closer, Allen could almost taste the release from his terrible shoes. Freedom!

"Oh Allen! Maybe they can help me find my brother! I'm so excited, we're so close!" The Lioness walked faster, the door within 20 feet.

"Hey guys, I got this. I can get us in, watch out." The Bookman pushed his way to the front of the group and strode up to the gleaming green door. He bent down and took in a breathe.

"OI. GRAMPS. LET US IN. ITS JUNIOR." He shouted, everyone else cringed at the volume. A small panel at the middle of the door slammed open, and a pair of dark rimmed eyes looked out menacingly.

"You idiot apprentice! Where have you been?!"

"…Junior?" Allen questioned. The Bookman turned and shot a glare at him.

"Aye, aye, things happen, you know panda?" He drawled, dropping his voice and feigning innocence.

"Don't call me panda you colossal idiot." The eyes narrowed further. The Bookman visibly flinched.

"They're hear to see the Wizard! He can do a large variety of things! I think I'm going to ask for a new hammer…"

"You've going to need a new head after I'm done with you!"

"No no! The angry looking Asian is the one that needs a br-OW." An arm shot out through the door and grabbed the (Junior?) Bookman by the ear and slammed him into the door. Much whining occurred. Allen walked up to the door and looked into the slot.

"Please! You have to let us in! I really really need to find out what's wrong with my shoes! Please, old man, let us in!" Allen looked imploringly at him.

"Ye Gods! Those are pretty terrible shoes." The old man released the Bookman, who was clutching his ear and scowling, scuttled out of reach of the door. Suddenly the Lioness sank to her knees, tears welling up and over her cheeks.

"W-we c-c-came thi-this faarrrrr, to be s-s-s-s-stopped huh-huh-here!" Everyone turned to look at her incredulously. Silence emanated from the door. After a lengthy pause, a muttered "Don't let the silly girl cry so much," the sound of locks grating clicked as the door swung open. The Scarecrow strode through first, shoving Allen slightly, The Lioness (mysterious beaming now) bolted through after Allen. As the Bookman began to walk forward, the door slammed shut with lightening speed.

"OI PANDA. LET ME IN!" He pounded on the door. "DON'T LEAVE ME OUT HERE. YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME." He kicked and scratched and beat and yelled. The door didn't budge.

Muffled shouting could be heard on the other side, Allen looked back over his shoulder, but then turned back around. That's what you get for calling my mother a whore. An evil smile spread across his face.

"I'm Bookman Senior, and welcome to the Emerald Castle, home of the Mediocre Wizard of BOZ."

"Oh great. There's two of them." The Scarecrow narrowed his eyes, yet as a needle flew narrowly past his face, he visibly flinched.

"Don't you compare me to that miserable apprentice!" The old man hadn't appeared to move.

"Uh, anyways, we're here to see the Wizard! I need to know what to do about all these homicide attempts!"

"I'm going to get some courage!"

"I need a drink." The Scarecrow muttered sharply under his breathe.

"Well, I'll try and take you to see him, but you can't go looking like that." Bookman Senior began to lead them through the inner worked of the Castle. Most of it was green.

"Well let's begin." Strains of jilting music suddenly started in the background.

Allen's stomach dropped.

OOOOOOO

"Ahahha! I see it! In my sights! The GREAT GREEN CASTLE. HERE I COME!"

Skewed and insane laughter split the bright sunshiny day.

Somewhere, somehow, a puppy died.

OOOOOOO

Outside, the day was turning into night,

The Bookman sniffed loudly, collapsed in a pathetic heap by the bottom of the door.

"I'm so sorry guysssss. I'll never ever ever ever call your mother 'so fat it takes two trains and a bus to get to her good side' again…" That was the 224th "Yo Momma" joke he had given up, but none of it seemed to matter to the door. He gave it another half-hearted thump.

He hiccuped.


"I'm so lonnneeeelyyy, I'mm Mrrr. Loonneeell-OW. WATCH WHERE YOU THROW THOSE BOOTS LADY."

Next time on Wizard of BOZ:

I do believe in Technical Difficulties and Highly Improbable Accidents, I do! I do!