And I can finally get to write this song! Yay!
The heroine knew what had to be done to get rid of her alter ego, in her mind it played out perfectly, a smile curling on her lips at the idea:
"Good news! She's dead! The Witch of the West is dead! The wickedest witch there ever was, the enemy of all of us here in Oz is Dead! Good news! Good news!" she could hear the citizens cry as the news of her death passes through.
This was who had tried to kill their beloved Wordgirl, after all.
"Look! It's Wordgirl!" she hears Scoop's voice yell out louder than the rest.
"Fellow People," she would say to her admirers, "Let us be glad, let us be grateful, let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue the wicked workings of you-know-who. Isn't it nice to know that good will conquer evil? The truth we all believe'll by and by outlive a lie. For you and -"
"No one mourns the Wicked," she'd hear someone interrupt.
"No one cries "They won't return!" another would cry.
"No one lays a lily on their grave," they'd all confirm.
"The good man scorns the Wicked!" a man would cry out angrily.
Mothers of the city's many children would hold on to them tight, "Through their lives, our children learn."
"What we miss, when we misbehave..." they'd all cry out indignantly.
"And Goodness knows the Wicked's lives are lonely. Goodness knows the Wicked die alone," a pain arose in her chest and tears stung her eyes, "It just shows when you're Wicked. You're left only on your own."
The citizens all looked at each other and agreed, "Yes, Goodness knows the Wicked's lives are lonely. Goodness knows the Wicked cry alone. Nothing grows for the Wicked, they reap only what they've sown."
Wordgirl bit her lips and tried to amend her alter ego's deeds, "Are people born Wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a father. She had a mother, as so many do..."
The scene from Wicked was the only thing she could think of, after all...she had never met her real parents.
"How I hate to go and leave you lonely."
"That's alright - it's only just one night."
"But know that you're here in my heart while I'm out of your sight."
"And like every family - they had their secrets," Wordgirl would explain, biting her lip.
"Have another drink, my dark-eyed beauty, I've got one more night left, here in town. So have another drink of green elixir and we'll have ourselves a little mixer. Have another swallow, little lady, and follow me down..."
"And of course, from the moment she was born, she was - well - different," she'd note, remembering the stories that Huggy used to tell her about her youth.
"It's coming!"
"Now?" her father asked nervously.
"The baby's coming!"
"And how!"
"I see a nose. I see a curl. It's a healthy, perfect, lovely, little -"
"Sweet Loquatia!" her father cried.
Her mother looked up nervously, "What is it? What's wrong?"
"How can it be?"
"What does it mean?"
"It's atrocious."
"It's obscene!"
"Like a froggy, ferny cabbage the baby is unnaturally."
"Green!"
"Take it away...take it away!"
"So you see - it couldn't have been easy!" Wordgirl tries to say to the already restless crowd.
"No one mourns the Wicked! Now at last, she's dead and gone! Now at last, there's joy throughout the land and Goodness knows we know what Goodness is. Goodness knows the Wicked die alone," the crowd sings, ignoring the heroine.
"She died alone..." laments Wordgirl.
"Woe to those who spurn what Goodness they are shown. No one mourns the Wicked."
"Good news!" she cries though she does not mean it.
"No one mourns the Wicked!"
"Good news!"
"No one mourns the Wicked! Wicked! Wicked!"
Huggy's squeak brought the girl out of her thoughts.
'Yup', she thought, 'That's exactly how it'd go.'
Little did she know, that was not gonna be the case.
I'm almost done...now we bring Tobey back in...he started the whole thing and he'll end it...though it may not have a song.