Fellow Onions, I mean, Ozians-Thanks for all your reviews; as always, they go appreciated and loved!

Chapter Nine: Plot Break and Pink-Handed Compliments

Disclaimer: Me no own the Wicked. Me sad.

Note: This is the authoress, who will never shut up, making stupid comments throughout this weird fic. Enjoy.

The atmosphere was too awkward to bear.

The air was tense. The silence was deadly. The floor was shiny.

The two witches-to-be sat in front of the Wizard's chamber, waiting for their meeting with…the Wizard. Glinda-not-Galinda busily stroked Frances, her new pet ferret. Excuse me, Ferret. Elphie silently read a humongous book while trying not to faint from excitement.

Finally, the blonde decided to speak. I mean, squeak. "Elphie…did you HAVE to wear that hideouseouseouseous hat today?" Glinda-not-Galinda sighed, looking at her newly found best friend in disgust.

Elphaba looked up from her book and glared at Glin…daaa. "Yes. It's a constant reminder of the shallow basis of our friendship and a reflection off the ultimate crux of your selfish, arrogant ways. Plus, it looks cool."

"No, Elphie, it does not. It's ugly. Take it off."


"Fine. But only if you sing a song with me."

"Must I?"

"Yes." The perkified blonde stood up gracefully. "LIGHTS!" A pink spotlight surrounded her once more, intensively clashing with the emeraldness around her.

"What shall we sing? Ooo! I know….'Pop-UUU-laaaaaaar-'"

"NO!" everyone shouted.

Glinda huffed. "Fine…'Everybody makes mistakes! Everybody has those days! Everybody knows what, what I'm talking 'bout, everybody gets that way!' Take it away, Elphie!"

Elphaba twitched silently behind her.

"Crank dat camel toeeeeee!" screamed a ghetto fabulous Ozian.

As usual, he went unnoticed and unloved by all.

Glinda stroked her chin, trying to come up with a feel-good-heart-breaking-sappy-pseudo-platonic-ultimate-friendship song she could sing with her BFFN (best friend for now).

"Hm…" hummed the Ozians, looking ahead in the script.

At this point, Elphaba was getting annoyed of Glinda and of waiting to meet her father. Uh, I mean, her ruler. "Honestly Glinda, I agreed to the whole BFF deal, but I don't think it's going to last. You don't even like the stuff I like. Like reading. What can be more fascinating?"

"Watching pink paint dry," answered Glinda.

Elphaba mockingly clapped. "Wow…I'm so proud. You managed sarcasm."

Glinda blinked, serious. "What's that?"

"Was that meant to be sarcastic?" asked an oblivious Ozian.

Glinda bounced up and down in her chair, sending Frances squealing off her lap and crashing into ten Ozians conveniently placed as bowling pins. "See…we DO have stuff in common. We just need to teach other." She smiled.

"Stop grinning, Glinda. You look scary."

"ANOTHER thing we have in common!"

"You make me feel so good about myself."

"Elphie, you're not going to find anyone who's going to make you feel good about yourself. So just embrace my shallow friendship NOW," Glinda demanded, a little lax for compassion.

"Um…" said the conscientious (three point SAT word!) Ozians as they once again flipped ahead in the script.

"Glinda, this friendship is over," Elphaba declared, standing up.

Glinda gasped and exploded into a pink ball of fluff. Figuratively and literally. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? NO ELPHIE COME BACK I NEEEEEEEEEEEEED YOU!"

Elphaba glanced at her bubbly buddy wearily. "I'm kidding. You know…ha ha?"

"It wasn't funny," said an Ozian.

"Shut up."


"See Elph, that's why I like you!" Glinda said, being belligerently bipolar. "I'm way too happy for my own good! So when I need to feel bad about myself, I'll just hang out with you."

"Don't call me Elph."

Glinda ignored this and opened up a copy of Ozian Bridal conveniently placed right next to her. "Well Elphie, if you're so apt on reading, then why don't you help me plan my wedding!"


Glinda quickly scammed over the dresses. "I want pink in my dress, but I know Ozian wedding dresses are usually white, so what should I doooooo?" She hopped onto Elphaba's lap. "HELP ME ELPHIE!"

"Get off me," Elphaba said as Glinda was rolled onto the ground.

"It doesn't matter what the dress is, I suppose, since it'll be with the right guy!"

"Um…who?" inquired Elphaba, feigning oblivion. (Work that vocabulary…WORK IT.)

Glinda struck a dramatic pose. "The love of my love, the apple of my eyes, the cheese to my Ozaroni: Fiyero Tiggyloo!"

"It's Tiggular."

"Oh. Right…and you can be my maid of horror, Elphie! I promise that you can wear something non-clashing and pretty, but not as pretty as me of course! Won't that be special; the three of us together, with me and Fiyero ecstatic, but not on ecstasy, of course, and you with…your hat!"

"Just shoot me now!" cried a Fiyeraba fan from the background, henceforth pissing off the one disillusioned Glindyero fan, who was most likely on ecstasy. (What did I tell you about the drugs?? STOP IT KIDS!)

"Wow that was subtle," noted the green one.

Thanks. I try.


Meanwhile, the rival pairing factions were getting it on.

"Shut up!" the Glindyero fan shouted to the Fiyeraba fan.

"Ex-CUSE me?!" screamed the Fiyeraba fan. "Didn't I knock you out in the last chapter?"

"No. You just shunned me."

"Would you like me to knock you out in THIS chapter?"

"Uhhh….." The Glindyero fan quickly scooted away.

"That's what I THOUGHT."


Everyone stared at the green girl in silence.

"I think I'll wear pink flowers in my hair," continued Glinda, as if nothing had happened.

No one cares.

"Well…nobody's perfect! Except me!" the blonde declared, tousling her hairs.

"Hey, MY line," said Hannah Oztannah, who had joined the crowd earlier on.

All of a sudden, the green doors to the Wizard's chamber opened greenly. Elphaba and Glinda held onto each other for dear life.

"Um. Glinda. Space?"

"Oh. Sorry." Glinda got closer.

They entered the chamber and almost got high off the green smoke. (Hypocrites…). The door slammed behind them and submerged them in darkness.

"Elphie, I'm scared," whispered Glinda.

"Glinda, relax. He's not going to hurt us," her green friend answered.



Everyone died.

The end.

Just kidding…

Elphaba grabbed Glinda, most likely to protect her. "Don't worry Glin! I'll save you!"

"Whoa," said the Ozians, watching the pseudo-Gelphie moment.

Get your minds, out of the gutters, people!


Meanwhile, the giant gold face rocked back and forth, permanently scarring the Ozians for life. "PROVE YOURSELF!" it screamed.

Glinda pushed Elphaba towards the face. "Go on, prove yourself, prove yourself."

"Why don't you prove yourself?" snapped Elphaba.

"Because I'm just a tag-along. I have no real significance at this time!" Glinda declared. "Plus, I'm not green enough. I don't want to offend him."

Too late.


"Aren't you already supposed to know?" questioned an Ozian. The Wizzz zapped him and he was burnt. To a crisp. Like French toast.

Excuse me, FREEDOM toast.

"Ow," he said.

Glinda continued to poke her friend. "Say something!"

Elphaba's usual verbose speech had died a pitiful death. She stood there awkwardly, contemplating on what to say next. "Uh…it's me! Elphaba Thropp, your terribleness!"

The Wizz decided to speak normally from then on. Why? No one cares. "Oh? Is that you, Elphaba? I didn't realize!" A tiny, yet powerfully old man climbed out of the face and struck a strong, edgy pose. "I hope I didn't startle you, it's just that you blended too much with the green…" He shook her hands. "And sorry for keeping you out there for so long, nature called and I answered!"

The sound of erotic emerald crickets filled the room, and then the sound of a toilet flushing, to underscore his point.

The Wizard looked around uncomfortably. "Yeah…so, which witch is which?"

"We're not witches!" piped up Glinda.

"Not yet…" muttered the Wizard.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing….so, the green one is Elphaba, and the blonde one…?"

Glinda daintily shook his hand and curtseyed. "Glinda, your Ozness. The 'Ga' is silent."

Everyone stood there silently. From the background, an Ozian coughed.

"Can we go now?" he asked, bored. But happily, he was zapped and burnt to a crisp (again).

"Do you like my mask?" asked the Wizard, stroking it in a creepy fashion. "It's one hundred percent sparkle and zero percent substance, but hey, you're got to give the people what they want, right? And plus, it's a special occasion, so I decided, what the hay!"

Elphaba could no longer conceal her excitement. "I'm so happy to meet you!" she squealed. She slapped herself. "Glinda, you're a horrible influence."

"You know it!" the blonde said.

"Can we focus on me, please?" demanded the Wizard. "I will now express my generous, feel-good persona in a creative, yet provocative way! Lights!"

The green lights dimmed, replaced by a spotlight the exact same shade of green.

I am a sentimental man

"Um, did we ask you to sing?" said the Ozians.

"Excuse me?"

The Ozians cowered in fear. "Sorry! Sorry! We'll be good!"


Who always longed to be a father

"Um…" noted the Ozians, not even waiting 2.4 seconds to break their promise.

That's why I do the best I can
To treat each citizen of Oz as a son -
Or daughter

The authoress twitched painfully at the unsubtle irony.

She then decided to contemplate on the meaning of life while eating chocolate pudding.

So Elphaba, I'd like to raise you high
'Cuz I think everyone deserves
The chance to flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

"What about me?" demanded Glinda, hurt.

"You're too blonde," said the Wizard.

"Oh thank you!"

He looked at her incredulously.


And helping you with your ascent al-
LOWS me to feel so parental

"'Isn't it ironic?'" sang the Ozians. But they were zapped by the authoress for stupidly pointing out the obvious.

And for doing it in song form.

Even though this is a musical.

"Can I please finish, here??" demanded the Wizard.

Grrrrr…..fine. But you only get one more line.

For I am a sentimental maaaAAAan…

Nice falsetto.

Now stop singing.

The green girl put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure your hypothetical son and/or daughter would be so proud of you," she said.

"Woooooooooooooooooooooooooow…" wowed the Ozians.

The Wizard dabbed at his tears. "Thank you for your kind words. Now, let's move on with the plot."

Let's not.

He wonderfully ignored the authoress (yeah, wonderful for him all right) and did a little dance. With his hands.

"wOoOoOw…." mused Glinda. "He is so TALENTED!"

"Enough of the talent…sir, we didn't come here just for us…" started Elphaba.

Glinda's face fell. "We didn't?"

"No," the green one snapped, "We came here for-"

"Oh please," said the Wizard, not kindly, "I'm the great and terrible Wizzz. I already know why you're here."

The two witches-to-be looked at each other in admiration. "Ooooooooo…."

"Now girls, as I said before, you must prove yourself before I can help you in any way."

"But I thought we already…" started Glinda.

"You ain't done nuh-thing yet, hunny," said the Wizard, snapping his fingers in a ghetto fabulous triangle motion. "I'm sorry, but the green isn't just going to cut it."

Glinda stepped forward slowly. "Then what do you suggest…?"

"Glinda! Ew! Stop! We are NOT here for that!"

Glinda blinked, confused. When she finally got the implication (a good 5 minutes later), she screamed, "I was going to offer a makeover, Elphie, a makeover! I am not that girl."

"'I'm not that girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl….!'" a male Ozian from the audience proceeded to sing.

His wife turned to him in disgust. "Jeez, I hope not."

"Excuse me, but does it LOOK like I need a makeover?" the Wizard inquired, smiling into a mirror. It shattered, leaving an abyss of inner turmoil, feelings of desperation and nostalgia of days of happiness and wonder.


"What the hell was that?" asked the Ozians, scratching their heads.

Now is not the time to question my writing skills.

"Or lack of…"


The Ozians scurried behind the broken mirror. "Nothing, nothing…WE LOVE YOU!"



"I know, Elphie, but we just have to smile and look pretty, or else the authoress might get mad and zap us. And I cannot get crispified. I'm wearing my baby doll yellow sundress with pink undertone today! I've got the pretty down, so you just smile."

"Was there an insult in there somewhere?"

"Of course not! It was a right-footed compliment."

"I think you mean left-handed, Glinda."

"But…I'm pink-handed."


Everyone stared at Frances with their mouths hanging open.

"What?" said the Ferret.

"I think we need a break," said an Ozian.

But just as they got ready to relax in overstuffed green chairs and masticate on some popcorn, a flash of lightening startled them all.

Were you thinking sick things?


"GAAAAAH!" screamed everyone.

"GOOD EVENING MY LITTLE CHICKITIES!" came a voice from behind them.

Glinda bounced up. "Madame Morrible, what are you doing here?"

The Wizard glanced at his watched, annoyed. "Where have you been? I placed my order of plot fifteen minutes ago!" His voice cracked like an egg on a Monday morning, even though his underwear said 'Thursday' on it.

"Well SOH-ree…drag takes an extra 34 minutes to put on," Madame Morrible said. "Hello, girlies, as the new Press Secretary to the Wizard, it is my duty to regulate all of his affairs, no matter how disgustifying."

"Press Secretary?" inquired Elphaba.

"34 minutes?" said Glinda.

Yes, it comes right after 33 and right before 35.

Glinda brightened up. "Oh thank you!" She scribbled it down in her notebook labeled New Thingies I Learned Today in pink glittery embroidery.

"You see what I have to deal with?" muttered Elphaba.

"Oh…I'm sure you're both very…charming," retorted Horrible Morrible, looking as if she was about to hank her own hair out. She thrust a book in Elphaba's hands. "Here, read this. It'll answer all your questions about a certain doctor with hooves."

Glinda gasped when she saw it. "Is that…the Grimmerie?"

"No, it's the Muffin Puffin Cook Book," said Morrible, rolling her dragalicious eyes.

The bubbly blonde moved her hand towards it slowly. "Can I…touch it?" she whispered.

"No," Morrible said sharply. "Only green people can touch it. Elphaba, try reading some."

"Okay," said Elphie, sitting down and starting to skim the pages.

As the green one proceeded to try to understand the spells in the book and the onlookers looked on, the Ozians were starting to get restless.

They sighed. "We're bored."

Well, what do you want me to do about it?

"Bring Fiyero over," suggested a hormonally imbalanced Ozian teenager. (It was a boy, just in case you were confused).

"YES!!" screamed the Fiyero fangirls, who surprisingly made up the majority of Fiyeraba fans. "We need him here. Like, now."

No we don't.

"PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE??" they squealed, permanently damaging the authoress' eardrums. "He might be an idiot and only good for one purpose, but still. I mean, just look at him."

I'll be right back.

At Dear Old Shizzzzzz….

"Boq, we've been through this many times before. Why don't you ever listen?"

"Because you're arrogant, Nessa. It's never about what I want in the relationship."

"Last time I checked, I was the one in need here."

"But Nessa…I have feelings, too you know."

"Yes, I am aware of your trivial heart, Boq."

"Well, we'll just ask Fiyero what he thinks." The Munchkin boy turned to the prince, who was currently glancing down at some text in front of him. "Fiyero, what's your opinion? Should we have tuna or chicken for dinner?"

Fiyero quickly glanced up from his copy of The Little Engine That Could. "Can you guys just leave me alone? I'm trying to become smart here!"

"Why?" Boq inquired. Nessa hit him over the head with her mullet.

"You're even dumber than he is!" she said, disgusted.

Frustrated, Fiyero slammed the book shut. "I can't do this! It's too hard!"

"That's what she said!" said the waiter as he whisked in and out with their drinks.

Boq scratched his head. "Wait a minute, I thought Fiyero was a guy," he said, receiving another slap from Nessa.

"Boq, scoot over. We're going to make Fiyero astute," said Nessa.


Nessa rolled her eyes as she opened the book. "This is going to be very easy. Trust me." She quickly scanned over the text. "Scratch that. Fiyero, this material is too difficult for your level. We'll have to dumb it down for you." She pulled out a copy of How To Read from Boq's pocket.


"Who, what, when, where, and why?!" Fiyero and Boq clung to each other, scared.

Nessa coughed. "Boq, I'm over HERE!"

"Oh, right." He scooted over to her, not letting go of the scandalicious prince.

Fiyero, you need to get to the Emerald City.

"What? Why?"

A certain girl needs you.

Not to mention your entire estrogen-charged fan base.

Fiyero leapt up. "She needs me? Why, what happened to El-" He coughed, noticing Boq and Nessa looking at him knowingly. "Uh, I mean…Did Glinda run out of pink nail polish again?"


It's not about the polish.

Now shut up and follow me.

"All right! I will!" He stood up gallantly as a gust of wind wooshed through his hair and an Ozian flag appeared behind him.

"Okay Boq, that's enough."

Boq sheepishly turned off the fan. "Sorry…"

"Bye everyone!" And then he walked off into the sunset.

"NO FIYERO DON'T LEAVE ME WITH HER PLEASE!" shouted Boq, withering in pain.

Nessa smiled creepily. "Oh, Boq. You just need to calm down. RELAX."


Ha...Next chappy is Defying Gravity, so yay!

Review please! (hinthint)