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"The Wizard of Belgravia - Part 2"
Title: The Wizard of Belgravia: Part Two: The Scarecrow
Genre: Fantasy, Crack. LOL
Warnings: Constant use of obvious Monkees related-things.
Disclaimer: Not claiming the plot of this as my own. Original plot by L. Frank Baum, obviously, since he wrote The Wizard of Oz.
Summary: Sam meets a new friend - The Scarecrow.
Author's Note: This is pretty much The Wizard of Oz with a twist of Monkees. So, you can imagine how this story will unfold if you watch it religiously like me have seen this movie (and if you haven't, you're not human).
Soon, the rolling hills became fields of corn and wheat as far as I could see. Birds flew from crop to crop, and Davy barked and jumped after them. The sun, which kept changing from yellow into numerous colors, was very hot and made sweat trickle down my face. There was not a soul around and, with no company except for a dog, I grew lonely.
After some time, I heard rustling among the wheat and some mumbled words. I entered the field and followed the sound. I stopped quickly when I found the source of the noise.
It was a man…well, sort of. He had grey pants and a blue 8-button down shirt on, along with black boots. The shirt, pants, and boots were tied on to one another with large pieces of rope. Pieces of straw were sticking out of his sleeves and pant legs. The straw also stuck out from under the hat he was wearing, giving the illusion of brown, straight hair. His skin looked more like a rough, old sack rather than smooth, human skin.
“Hey! Get outta here! Go away! SCRAM!” He was yelling at a group of crows that were picking at the crops. Despite his shouts and constant arm-flailing, the crows were unaffected. Some even laughed. Once the crows satisfied their appetite, they flew away, some still cackling about the man. He slumped in disappointment, but then jumped when he saw me out of the corner of his painted-on eyes.
“Oh! You scared me,” He said, clutching his chest, causing some of the straw in him to crumple. “I didn’t see you there!”
“I’m sorry!” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to be nosy…I heard someone yelling and I came to see what all the commotion was about.”
“It’s ok. So, who are you? I’m Micky, by the way.”
“I’m Sam.” I grinned at him and stuck out my hand. He shook it. His limp hand was crushed by my grip. “You know, I had a friend named Micky back in Los Angeles…” I studied his face for any similarities. He did have the same hair and dark brown eyes as Micky…
“Oh, where’s that?” Micky asked.
I forgot where I was for a second. “Nevermind, it’s a far off land…”
Micky looked confused. “So..h-how much of that did you see?” He asked nervously.
“I came in when you were jumping around and yelling. And then the crows started laughing…”
He groaned. “I’m such a failure…” He said softly.
I frowned. “Hey, now don’t be so hard on yourself. Why would you say such a terrible thing like that?”
“Look at me!” He yelled. “I’m a scarecrow, and I can’t even scare any crows!” He plopped himself on the ground and began to make noises that sounded like he was crying. “I’m a failure because I haven’t got a brain…”
“Why don’t you have a brain?”
“I dunno. I was only made with straw.” He lifted his hat to show me. I sat down next to him and patted his back reassuringly. Then I got an idea in my head.
“You know, I’m on my way to Frodis City to see Wizard Glick. I was hoping he could help me find my way home. Maybe, if you came along, he could give you some brains!”
“But what if he doesn’t give me any?” Micky asked.
“Well, you’d be no worse off than you are now.”
“Yes, that’s true…” He said sadly.
“So, do you wanna come?”
Micky thought it over for a moment,and then smiled. “Gosharooni, do I! LET’S GO!” He sprang up and tried to stand on his feet, but his floppy legs buckled under the pressure. I put my arm around his waist and he leaned on me.
“Thanks,” he said. “I need a bit of help walking sometimes.”
“So, shall we?” I asked.
“Let’s go!” Micky said once again, pointing down the road. Micky, Davy, and I set down the path once again. It was nice to have a friend to talk to. I told him all about L.A. and how I ended up here; he told me tons of information about Belgravia.
“Gee, this place seems pretty groovy.” I said.
“Oh, it used to be, when it was a free country…” Micky said miserably.
“Hey, Captain Crocodile said the same thing to me. What happened?”
“Well, one of the biggest passions in Belgravia is music. Everyone here knows how to play at least two or three instruments. I play drums and guitar. Back in the old days, you could form groups with your friends and create any kind of music you wanted, and no one would judge you. Until one day, an evil sorcerer named Kirshner took over. He told all of Belgravia that he would choose what music would be played in the country. No groups could be formed without his consent.”
“But…why didn’t anyone try to stop him? Why didn’t Wizard Glick stop him, if he’s so powerful?” I asked.
“No one is really sure,” Micky continued. “But we think it has to do with Kirshner’s Golden Ears. He claims that his Golden Ears can tell the difference between good music and rubbish. Some believe he put a spell on Wizard Glick, leaving him powerless when it came to music.”
My jaw dropped in bewilderment. “That’s terrible!”
“Yeah…it’s really a drag.” His voice dropped down to a whisper. “I have so many songs I’ve secretly written, but I can’t show or play them for anyone, because I’m afraid Kirshner will find out!”
“Micky, you could sing them for me. I would love to hear him! I promise I won’t tell a soul.” I pleaded.
“Sorry babe, but I can’t. The Golden Ears can pick up banned music from almost anywhere in the country.”
“Aww.” I pouted.
“Cheer up!” Micky said. “That face isn’t as pretty when it has a frown on it! Just think about getting to Frodis City!”
I smiled. “I’ll get to go home...”
“And I’ll get some brains…”
We both were lost in thought as the scattered trees grew closer together and we entered a thick forest.