Look at this tomfoolery. Me writing the bad fic, you reading the bad fic, and all of us wanting to see Wicked again. Well, I suppose I'm back for a spin. I'm going to attempt to finish my fics—starting with this one! I had attempted NaNoWriMo, but that was 30000 words short so I'm back here. Here's the final chapter of things Boq never did (feeding her to dogs, drowning her, letting her kill herself, so on and so forth). This is by far not the best of the chapters, but I am sadly and surprisingly running out of ways to kill her.


It was, if Boq did say so himself (and he did), a smashing party. The mayor was in attendance with several of his very pretty, very new to alcohol daughters, and as the newfound hero of Munchkinland Boq felt slightly entitled to a bit of drunken shenanigans with pretty girls. The only fair option after the last few years seemed to be drunken shenanigans with that blonde (albeit Munchkin) girl eyeing him in the corner.

Of course, that could be the fruit punch. He had been handed a few glasses of it every hour and it certainly wasn't just lemons, melons, and pears. He snorted into his cup and glanced up at the girl—

Oh, sweet Ozma, how did he end up by that monstrosity and how did he let it get between him and his pretty blonde girl? Boq thought the dogs had taken care of all of it. Useless little ankle-biters, the Munchkins. He'd handed her to them on nothing less than a silver platter yet they couldn't even get rid of all of her.

He downed his drink, praying to anyone that it was suddenly about fifty percent more alcohol in it, and made his way over to the table with Nessarose's head set in the middle (someone's attempt to be artistic, the little bastard). Twisting her head around so that her soulless eyes were staring at the wall, Boq smiled. He brushed a hand on the tablecloth, straightened his collar, and picked up another drink.

"Drunken shenanigans time. Thank you, Ex-Madame Governor."