Yeah, blood red. Oh, boy...here come the guilds. I better do something. "Hey, doc.
Get on down there and make sure Thropp is really dead. What? What the hell is
'merely' dead? I said make sure she IS dead, and don't come back..."
What's that? The Lollipop Guild is smoking? In public? "Henry! Get your ass over
here. Stub out that stinker and tell Red I saw him crawl up out of the sewer not five
minutes ago and I don't want him touching any lollipops until..."
"She wants WHAT? To go home? Somebody explain her that she ain't goin' back to KAN-SASS
without a magic hat or something, and the only magic person who coulda helped her is
layin' there DEAD...what? Yes, sincerely dead, doc..."
Oh, no! Don't tell her that! If she follows the yellow brick road she'll end up in our
poppy fields. Hey, wait a minute. That might not be such a bad idea. The little lady samples our local product, never makes it to Oz, and the Great and Powerful
never finds out that his appointed representative is takin' a dirt nap. That'll put me in charge. Folks around here are gonna have to do what I say.
You know, this could work out pretty sweet.
"Harumph, yes, of course...follow the yellow brick road. Oz! Wizard! C'mon, you
Munchkins, SING! Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Yes, follow the yellow brick road. You're goin' the wrong way, girl. Why the hell are you askin' directions? Look down! Follow the YELLOW brick road..."
Yeah, and take that damn dog with you. Give my regards to the wizard. I hear tell he's an old Kansas boy, himself. Yeah, and everybody knows that killers come from Kansas.
Plan X
I was nearly three years old when my father dragged me down the steps into a basement workshop lighted only slightly better than the alleyway above. He couldn't do it himself, not today, not with the firestorm I was ready to unleash. I was only three, but I had teeth and I had a grip that could make a cat roll its eyes into the back of its head and scream.
I looked at my father, my good ol' Dad, the man I trusted with my life and he was smiling. Smiling! "Well the hell with this scene, baby!" I jerked free and bolted for the door but a powerful, wiry arm whipped around my throat and choked off my cries for help.
I was snatched off the floor and body-slammed into an ancient leather and steel chair by a thug with tow chains for arms. He pinned my hands behind me and locked my chin against my chest. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see the growling power tool pressing against my ear, cold and sharp!
Suddenly I understood that only a singularity of pure evil would give birth to the abomination poised scant millimeters above my spine. Revulsion washed over me in waves. Death whispered deafeningly into my ear. I bit my lip and swallowed my own panic, bitter and laced with bile. I would die before begging for mercy.
They rubbed it on the back of my neck, torturing me with gentle caresses from its gear-driven teeth. But then, why would they rub it on my hair? Why was my HEAD getting cold? OH! Oh, NOOooooo! I twisted and pulled myself into a fetal ball but they only tightened their hold and cut faster. I didn't have much time left but I had a plan. I called it 'Plan X'.
So dangerous it could only be practiced behind closed doors, Plan X was my last-ditch emergency defense. Like a hand grenade in a phone booth, my next move was likely to take me out of the game along with everybody else. But close quarters is where Plan X worked best. My enemy had miscalculated, you see. They thought that a hammer lock made me helpless. They thought I hadn't brought any weapons with me. Well, I had a surprise for THEM.
