Feedback for the author...
DISCLAIMER: This site is in no way affiliated with the Monkees or personal relations thereof. All fan fiction and fan art is intended for entertainment purposes only and no defamation of character is intended whatsoever. To break it down one more time: It's all just for fun, folks.
"The Wizard of Belgravia - Part 3"
Title: The Wizard of Belgravia: Part Three: The Tin Woodsman
Authors: LadyLoveLonesome and Matt (Matty_Bean2393)
Genre: Fantasy, Crack. LOL
Warnings: Constant use of obvious Monkees related-things.
Disclaimer: Not claiming the entire plot of this as my own. Original plot by L. Frank Baum, obviously, since he wrote The Wizard of Oz.
Summary: Sam and Micky meet yet another friend.
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). Plus, my friend has decided to help me write this story, so now there are two crack-filled heads working on this plot. It should get interesting, he's the McCartney to my Lennon (or perhaps the Boyce to my Hart, since this is a Monkees fic...).
After what seemed like – and probably was - hours of walking, I could feel my stomach growl and quiver with hunger. I rubbed it to calm it down.
"What’s wrong?" Micky asked.
"Nothing…just a little hungry."
"Hungry…what’s that like?"
I gave him a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"
"I’m made of straw, remember? I don’t eat food like you."
"Oh yeah…" I said, feeling sort of dumb. Micky let out a light chuckle.
"Hey! Look over there, Sam!" Micky exclaimed, pointing at a few trees. Hanging from the branches were apples.
"Food!" I yelled, and ran towards the trees. I plucked an apple off the tree and held it up to the light, inspecting the red, waxy skin of it. Suddenly, something hard and sharp hit me right across the face. I stumbled back a bit, feeling a bit dizzy.
"Hey! What’s the big idea?" I said. I looked around to see who had hit me, and my eyes widened when I saw the tree staring back at me, its face filled with anger.
"Why are you picking my apples?" He screamed.
"Well, I was hungry…"
"SHE WAS HUNGRY!" the tree said, turning to a neighboring tree, who threw some of its branches up in exasperation. "How would you like it if I came along and pulled something off of you?" The tree reached out and pulled on my long hair.
"HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!" Micky shouted, running at the trees. He attempted to slap them, but the tree wrapped its branches around the two of us and held us tightly. We tried with all our might to get away, but we were too weak. The branches tightened around my body, some even digging into my skin. Drops of blood began to ooze out. I shrieked in pain. Stars of dizziness started to obstruct my vision. Davy was barking and running around frantically. Then out of nowhere, I saw a flash of silver whiz past me. It made a loud whacking noise and I heard the tree yelp. More whacks. The branches loosened and we fell to the ground. Micky and I stumbled away, just far enough from the trees. I saw our rescuer had a silver ax in his hands and he was chopping up the branches that were trying to kill us. The cries from the tree grew louder with each chop. Finally, our savior took one final swing of his ax, and it landed with a loud ‘CRACK’ in the tree’s face. The cries were silenced.
He ran over to where Micky and I lay. "You two all right?" He asked, in a drawl that seemed awfully familiar. Davy growled at the man the instant he came near me. I looked up into the face of my rescuer.
His body was entirely made of tin. The sun shined down on him, giving him a polished, glossy look. Overlapping pieces of tin curved and bent where his joints were. Metal was joined together on his torso to look like of a suit coat and tie. He had a large, pointed nose, piercing dark brown eyes, and a small, inexpressive mouth. Triangular bits of tin stretched from his ears to the middle of his cheeks. They looked like oversized sideburns. Metal shards of all shapes and sizes overlapped and were welded together to give the illusion of dark hair that was swept off to the side, just over his left eye. The metal curved up in the back, almost as if his "hair" was curling. On his head was a funnel. Welded on top of the funnel were many nails that shot out in every direction. It looked like a metal pom-pom. I had seen a hat like that somewhere before…
"I’m fine," Micky said. "The tree didn’t hurt me at all. You ok, Sam?"
I looked down at my blood-stained arms. "Uh…n-not r-r-really…" I managed to stammer out. The sight of the blood made me dizzy. Both Micky and the man of tin gasped at the sight.
"Maybe there’s something back at the tinsmith’s house that you can wrap around your cuts," The man said. I tried to stand up, but my legs were too weak. I stumbled. The man caught me in his cold arms. Davy growled even louder and let out a few barks.
"I’ll help you walk," he said. "Come on. It’s only over this little hill." Micky and Davy followed.
We entered this little moss-covered cottage in the woods. The tin man helped me lay down on a bed. He rummaged through a few cabinets. "Ah, here we go," he said. He came over, holding some bandages, and sat on the edge of the bed. He lifted up my left arm and carefully wrapped the bandages around it, covering all of the cuts. He did the same thing to my right arm.
"Thank you so much," I said with a smile. "I’m Sam…and, uh…I didn’t catch your name?
"Michael…I’ve always liked that name." I said.
"So, what are y’all doing out here in the forest?" Michael asked.
"We’re on our way to Frodis City to see Wizard Glick," I said.
"WOAH!" Micky shrieked, causing everyone to jump. "Is that your guitar, Michael?" he asked, pointing to a dusty instrument in the corner.
"Yeah, haven’t played it in years." He said sadly.
"It’s really groovy!" Micky said excitedly.
Mike stared thoughtfully at his guitar for a few seconds. "So why are you going to see Wizard Glick?" He asked.
"I’m hoping he’ll help me get back home," I said.
"And I’m hoping he’ll give me some brains." Micky said.
"Really?" Mike’s face suddenly looked excited. "Do you think he could help me too?"
"What do you need help with?" I asked.
"Well, you see, when the tinsmith made me years ago, he forgot something very important – a heart. I’ve wanted one for so long…"
I laughed. "Trust me, you don’t want a heart."
Mike frowned. "But I do! I want to feel every emotion that you humans do!"
"So, Michael…do you want to come with us?" Micky asked.
"Well, if y’all don’t mind…" He said quietly.
"We don’t mind!" Micky said eagerly.
"We’d love to have you with us, Michael." I said. Davy snarled at him once again.
"Well, ok then. Let’s get moving!" Michael said. We left the cottage and found the red and gold brick path waiting for us.
"Wait!" Michael shouted. He ran over to the tree that he recently massacred and picked a few apples off the branches. The nearby trees gave him dirty looks and even tossed out a few obscene words.
"Here you go, Sam." He said sweetly, handing me the apples.
"Thanks." I flashed a smile at him. He smiled softly, and then his eyes turned away from mine. We started on our journey again, with Davy following closely by my side, keeping a close watch on Michael.