Sarah stepped from the wrecked house into the light, rubbing her eyes. Speaking into the ear of her little dog, she whispered "You know, Rovie, I don't think we're in Alaska anymore. Where are the moose? The caribou? The First Dude? What happened to RUSSIA!?! It was there a minute ago!"
As she turned in circles, taking in the unfamiliar terrain, she noticed a pair of loafers poking out from under her house. "Well, that's just not right!" she said to Rovie. "I believe in the sanctity of life, and it appears that I've violated that principle. I need to get with Rev. Muthee and have him exorcise that bad old juju from my aura!"
"Don't worry - it was a Godless, liberal, baby-killing tax-raiser." A voice said from behind her. She turned. There stood a silvery haired figure with a strangely disturbing smile on his face. "You've been brought here for a reason, Sarah. I've been watching you for a while. A long while. I have a quest for you - if you are willing."
"What kind of quest? I've got a special-needs baby, you know, and I've got to keep an eye out for Putin, that sucker's head shows up in our airspace like, every other day. And those pipelines aren't going to build themselves, you know. I've got this investigation, and the gosh-darned polar bears knocked over the garbage again last night, and I'm a hockey mom, too, ya know - gotta get those kids to practice, and all like that."
"Your country needs you, Sarah. There are forces at work here that seek to undo everything that's been accomplished. Muslims and Democrats are threatening our very way of life, and only you can help."
"But it's not MY country. I'm from Alaska!"
"Yeah, but...um, let me put it to you this way. Wanna be rich?"
"Well, sure! I mean, it's not like I'm poor, or anything, but all those pesky regulations keep the Oil companies from paying me directly, and sometimes, I've gotta go through like three banks to make sure my money is all cleaned and laundered and pressed, ya know? I just hate those wrinkly ones, you know, the ones that won't go into your wallet straight, and you can't ever get them to work in the vending machines..."
"Okay, just listen. You have to make your way to the Emerald City. Along the way, you will find people who will help you. When you get there, you have to shake things up. The Emerald City is full of sin - earmarks, and corruption, and liberal Muslims. We need votes, but it won't be easy. I think you can get those votes for us. I'm - we're - counting on you."
Sarah whispered into Rovie's ear. "Whaddya think?" Rovie's lip curled, and a low snarl rumbled from his throat. "You're right, Rovie. Blinking is for wimps." Turning to the mysterious figure, she said, "Done. What do I do?"
"Follow the Neocon Road." he said.
"Follow the Neocon Road?"
"Listen, if you want me to sing, how about some old Beach Boys? I'm not into all this fru-fru musical crap - but 'Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran' is one of my favorites."
"Oh, that's okay. I'm off!"
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Some time later, she came to a fork in the road. "Oh my God! A choice! I'm not pro-choice!"
"Try the right one." a voice from behind her said.
Rovie snarled, his hackles raised. "Oh, my!" squealed Sarah. She dropped the wolf, who immediately ran into the nearby field and began tugging on the leg of the scarecrow hanging there in full crucifixion pose.
"Hey, call off your mutt! Barney! Barney! Get over here and defend me, you worthless...Help! Help!" he cried, his voice rising into a girlish scream.
"Rovie! Hold!" she cried, digging in her purse for the Baretta she kept there. What she pulled out, though, was a very large lollipop.
"Don't move, Buster, or Rovie is going to have some testicle nuggets for lunch!" she shouted, digging furiously deeper in her purse.
"Hey, lady, I was just trying to help!" the Scarecrow quavered.
"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it, hanging around on crosses and scaring respectable ladies half to death!" She faced him. "Alright, I'm gonna let you down. But if you try anything, you're toast."
"I don't mean any harm, missy. Oh, people think I'm dangerous, but I'm really harmless. See, I don't always know what to say, 'cuz I don't have any brains up there in the old noggin. Nah, just stuffin', I guess. But I get around it, I suppose, by sorta - sorta catapulting the propaganda, know what I mean? I used to have this tin guy around here, kinda whispered in my ear, but I ain't seen him around for a long time. Hey, think you could get me down? I been up here for the longest time, and all I've had to read is this old copy of 'My Pet Goat'. I'm afraid of goats - they're tarrists in the scarecrow world."
She crossed to him, grabbing him by the legs, lifting him over her shoulder, and then body slamming him to the ground.
"You weigh a lot less than a moose, anyway. Hey - I've got an idea! I'm off to see the Wizard - maybe you could come, too, and we could get you some brains! Would you like that? Some brains? Hey, I could use some, too! What the heck happened to my gun? I know it was in here - I kneecapped that protester back there a little bit - filthy hippie commie cornstarchin'..." She continued down the right fork, muttering under her breath, the scarecrow following distractedly behind under the watchful eye of Rovie.
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"What was that?"
"What? Bin Laden? DUCK!!!"
"No, I think we've found your Tin Man. Here, use this oil can. Is there anything oil can't do?"
"Yeah. It's not much good for torture." The Tin Man said, his rusty jaw creaking menacingly.
"We don't torture!" the Scarecrow exclaimed.
"You just keep saying that. Just like I taught you."
Sarah looked at the Tin Man appraisingly. "Did you ever see 'Three Kings? Where they dumped oil into Wahlberg's mouth?"
"Ooh, touche'. You've got promise, tootsie. Now, keep that pipeline flowing - I've got parts that haven't worked for years, and we've got things to do. Important things. Dark, and bloody, and...tasty. Things you don't want to know about..."
"Wow - you're kind of a heartless bastard, aren't you?"
"Nah, I've got one - wait - hit me with that defibrillator, and I'll prove it - AAAGGGHH, that's better. Hey, got any guns?"
Sarah shrugged. "I thought I did. Hey! Wanna go with us to see the Wizard? I'll bet he'll give you a new heart!"
The Tin Man chucked. "That'd be a good trick. Maybe I could be immortal! That would piss some people off...I'm in."
They linked arms, and down the Neocon Road they skipped. Rovie, slinking along behind, was the only one to notice that the Tin Man had no shadow...
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"Get off me!" the Tin Man shouted, swinging his axe wildly.
"You hit me in the face!" the Scarecrow screamed, wildly scrambling to pick up the straw on the ground.
"You're lucky I DIDN'T have a gun, you useless tick-hotel." the Tin Man said, with a strange lack of emotion. "Now, pay attention! They may come over the border here - we know where they are, just north and east...Liberals, and Muslims,and Atheists..."
"Gee, whilikers, Liberals, and Muslims, and Atheists! Oh, My! It's scary out here in the dark!" Sarah breathed, looking around wide-eyed.
A huge roar came from the trail just in front of them. They rattled to the ground in a tangled heap.
"Put 'em up! Put 'em up!" the strange creature cried, dancing around them with his fists pumping.
"Chicken Hawk!" the Scarecrow screamed, twirling in circles.
"Yeah, I'm a Chicken Hawk. Are you a chicken?"
The Tin Man drew back his axe. "No chickens here." he growled, starting his swing. "I'm gonna render you back to the Stone Age!"
The Chicken Hawk fell in a heap on the ground, wings covering his head, as he blubbered "9-11! 9-11! Niiiiine Eeeleeeeevvvveeeennnnnn!!!"
The Tin Man lowered his axe. "Oh, yeah. I remember you. Did you forget the noun and the verb?"
The Chicken Hawk rose up, dusting off his feathers. "Well, maybe I am afraid - but we ALL must be afraid! VERY, VERY AFRAID!!!"
Sarah slapped him. "Straighten up, soldier! We're on our way to the Emerald City. Come with us - maybe the Wizard can give you some courage. And some clean pants." she said, glancing down in disgust.
"Yeah, that happens a lot." the Chicken Hawk said, blushing.
"Well, walk behind us." the Tin Man said, clanking off down the trail. "WAY behind."
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"What is the Emerald City?" asked Sarah.
"It's the center for the liberal media - corrupt and decadent, but necessary if you want to get votes." replied the Tin Man.
"I was Mayor there..." whispered the Chicken Hawk, crossing himself and spitting over his left shoulder.
"What happened?" asked Sarah.
"Well, some rogue Munchkins rode brooms into some of the towers, and everybody was afraid, and they liked me, but then they refused to be afraid enough, so I became irrelevant. Also, I caught a lot of crap about the police commissioner - seemed he liked horses of a different color a little toooo much." the Chicken Hawk said, shuffling his feet.
"If you had listened to me, and declared Martial Law, you'd still be mayor, and the entire city would have been reduced to tiny, spendable emeralds. Putz!" snarled the Tin Man, clanking down the trail.
"Oh, look at the beautiful poppies!" breathed Sarah.
"I like flowers!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, sitting on the ground with three long lines of pollen arranged in neat rows between his legs. "Anybody got a straw? Or a hundred-dollar bill?"
"Here, I brought you some flowers." said the Chicken Hawk, handing a colorful bouquet to Sarah. "Lots of seeds and stems, but it'll still get you off."
Rovie jumped on the Tin Man's leg, petals stuck to his muzzle, and began humping happily. "Stop that!" shouted the Tin Man. "Don't touch the flowers - you're enabling the terrorists!"
"Anybody seen my legs?" said the disembodied head of the Scarecrow. "I was tryin' to get naked, and everything disappeared."
"Oh, for cripes sake!" exclaimed the Tin Man, shoving the scattered piles of straw and clothes into a bag. "We've gotta get you back in rehab."
"Earmarks!" shouted Sarah. "Pipelines! Six-pack! Refoooooooooorm!!!" She clicked the oil can again, rubbing glistening oil into her tanned, naked skin, a rapturous expression on her face. "I've never done it with a metal man. Bet you'd have some staying power! Longer than the First Dude...I mean, why do you think he's called the First Dude? It ain't because he's married to the Governor - it's because he's always first to..."
"I can FLYYYYYY!!!" screamed the Chicken Hawk, buzzing the little group on the ground. "I can TOUCH THE SKY!!!"
The Tin Man rolled the Scarecrow into his blanket, then picked up Rovie, thoroughly engaged in licking himself, and rolled him in as well. He slapped Sarah, snarled "Cover yourself, wench, or I'll put you on a plane to Nebraska!"
"Would that count as foreign policy experience?" wondered Sarah, as she followed the Tin Man down the trail, a wad of clothes clutched to her chest. The Chicken Hawk soared overhead, singing 'Free Bird' at the top of his lungs. "And this bird will never chayangeangeangeangeangeaneange..."
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The Tin Man knocked on the door with the shaft of his axe. The sound echoed hollow within the Emerald City.
A small panel set high in the door opened. "Who goes there?" a nasally voice asked.
"It's the future down here, so let us in!" growled the Tin Man.
"The future is unknowable. Now what is the message there? The message is that there are known "knowns." There are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say there are things that we now know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know. So when we do the best we can and we pull all this information together, and we then say well that's basically what we see as the situation, that is really only the known knowns and the known unknowns. And each year, we discover a few more of those unknown unknowns."
"Oh, great. Another Poppyhead. Let us in RIGHT NOW, you pompous ass, or I'll have you on a waterboard in Gitmo so fast it'll make your head swim. GET IT? Head swim. See, the Dark Lord DOES have a sense of humor!" The Tin Man slammed his axe into the gate, which swung open creakily. "Now, take us to the Wizard!"
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"Oh, Great and Powerful Wizard, hear our prayer."
The words echoed through the Great Hall, reverberating eerily. The rattling of the Chicken Hawk's knees was the only other sound. A huge head strangely reminiscent of Putin towered over them, quiet and dark.
"Prayer? Why don't you just tell me what you want?" a quiet voice said. Seated unnoticed in the hollows of the statue was a turbaned figure with an expectant look on his face.
"Muslim!" the Chicken Hawk quavered, kept in position only by the Tin Man's axe hooked around his throat.
"I'm not a Muslim." the figure said softly. "But don't worry - it's a common mistake."
"Well, then...who are you? Are you the Messiah?" Sarah asked.
The figure chuckled. "Another common mistake. No, I'm just a man, but I'm known as the Wizard of Ozghanistan in these parts."
"Oh, Great Wizard, we come seeking brains. And a heart. A little courage would be welcome. But most importantly, we need votes." said Sarah.
"Yes, I'm aware of your quest." He stood, and snapped his fingers. A light streamed down, illuminating the silver haired figure in a fetal position in a small cage. "A little bird told me."
"Oh my God, that's awful!" exclaimed Sarah. "That's like...like torture!"
"Normally I'd agree with you." the Wizard said. "But in his case, he says that this is the only way he feels secure. So we accommodated him."
The Wizard snapped his fingers again, and the white haired man crawled from the cage, stood, and brushed himself off, blinking furiously. "You just don't understand!" he said in a querulous old mans voice.
"Oh, I understand perfectly well. You have sent these...beings here, in search of things you need. What you and they failed to realize is that these things have existed in you all along."
"Scarecrow, you want brains. I can't give them to you, but I can give you something just as good. Advisers. All you have to do is listen to them."
"Well, that won't work!" the Scarecrow exclaimed. "I'm the Decider! I decide things! About...things!"
"This is my gift to you. Do with it what you will. But I have given you advice, through qualified advisers. Ignore this at your own peril. It's YOUR legacy, after all."
"I decided I don't want brains, after all. Just give me - 700 Billion dollars!" he cried petulantly.
"Uh...right."
"Chicken Hawk, you want courage. It also lies in all of us. It requires you only to admit that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself." the Wizard said.
"Well, that's just crazy talk!" the Chicken Hawk exclaimed. "But I'd expect that, coming from you, you...liberal...community...organizing..." He trailed off, falling asleep. The Wizard lowered his hand.
"I've wanted to do that for a very long time." the Wizard sighed. "Now you, Tin Man. You want a heart. But you've destroyed yours by feeding it a constant stream of bile, meanness, and hate. Remove them, and your heart will grow by a factor of 3 times."
"Up yours, Mohammed. I'd rather go hunting with Caribou Barbie here than listen to your...your..." The Tin Man fell to the ground, clutching his hollow chest, his legs clattering a drumbeat on the floor.
"I had nothing to do with that one." The Wizard turned his gaze to the white haired man. "And you, sir, what do you seek?"
"Lower taxes! Less Regulation! More war! Trollops! Daddy needs a new pair of shoes!" He stopped, panting, sweat running down his face.
"I'm sorry, I can't give you those things. They are irresponsible, and wouldn't serve the people of Ozghanistan. What I can give you is peace, prosperity, health care, diplomacy, an educational system that works, corruption free government, and much less drama."
"You pissant! Let ME tell you about diplomacy! When you've lived 5 years in a box without a dinner table, or food stamps, or anything, you don't NEGOTIATE - WITH - THE - TERRORISTS!!!"
"How do you know what they want if you don't talk to them?" the Wizard asked.
"WHO CARES! I've been to Waziristan! I've been to Afghanistan! I've been to Kingman, Barstow, and San Bernadino, Anaheim, Azusa, and Cucamonga, I've never been to Spain, but I've been to Oklahoma. I've been EVERYWHERE! It's not about what THEY want, it's about what I want! Me! It's MY turn - the Scarecrow promised that I was next!" He broke into uncontrollable sobs.
"Well, we take care of our veterans here in Ozghanistan. These nice men will take you somewhere nice, and you can have some pudding, okay? Would you like that? Some pudding?"
"Butterscotch?"
"Yeah, butterscotch."
"Okay. Can I have a hug?"
The Wizard opened his arms. "Not YOU. Her." the white haired guy pointed at Sarah.
"Enough." said the Wizard. "go with these nice men. We'll contact your wife."
They led him away.
The Wizard looked at Sarah, then at the wolf in her arms. She said "Yeah, I know." and neatly snapped his neck. She then dropped the wolf to the floor, and in one swift motion, snapped off his foreleg and tucked it in her purse.
"And you, Sarah. What do you seek?"
"Well, I came here for votes. But right now, all I want to do is go back to Alaska."
"That's good, because I have all the votes. But before I can grant your wish, you have to answer one question."
"If I can."
"What - is your favorite color?"
"Like every American I'm speaking with, we're ill about this. We're saying, 'Hey, why bail out Fanny and Freddie and not me?' But ultimately what the bailout does is, help those that are concerned about the healthcare reform that is needed to help shore up our economy to help...uh...it's gotta be all about job creation, too. Also, too, shoring up our economy and putting Fannie and Freddy back on the right track and so healthcare reform and reducing taxes and reigning in spending...'cause Barack Obama, y'know...has got to accompany tax reductions and tax relief for Americans, also, having a dollar value meal at restaurants. That's gonna help. But one in five jobs being created today under the umbrella of job creation. That, you know...Also..."
"Okaaaaaaay. Nice talking to you. Enjoy Alaska. While you can."
"But how do I get back?"
"The bus leaves at 7."
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