Back

2005 Claymmy Winner

"The Wizard Of La"

Chapter 1

By: Kaci
a parody of L. F. Baum’s
“The Wizard of Oz”
(I don’t own anything...!)


It was a hot summer day in downtown Los Angeles. Smog was rolling, traffic was barely creeping by, and Clay Aiken sat in his car, waiting on the cars to let up so he could get home for a nap before leaving again to meet his tour manager.

Since the traffic was moving so slowly, he’d given up on holding onto the wheel, and was sitting back in his seat, watching through the front window blankly as he quietly sang along to the soundtrack he’d recently purchased.

“One short day in the Emerald City, one short day, dah dah dah dah dum dum…”

Beside him, Raleigh snoozed in her little dog kennel, which was buckled down securely in the seat.

Clay’s stomach growled, rumbling loudly through the fabric of the checkered blue button-down he was currently sporting. He sighed in agitation and ran a hand through his hair, sinking further down into the car seat. Raleigh barked softly in her sleep.

“C’moooon,” Clay muttered, giving his steering wheel an irritated thump. “I’m hungry and sleepy!” He slouched, looking out at the Los Angeles skyline. A grey cloud of pollution hung over the city like a toxic veil. Clay sighed.

‘I was only gonna have an hour to nap before meeting Mary to talk about the new tour. Now I won’t have time,’ he thought.

Frowning, Clay switched off his CD player. He murmured, “I just wanna go someplace where there aren’t any priorities. You suppose there is such a place, Raleigh?”

Raleigh yawned with a canine squeal.

“There must be. It’s not a place you can get to through reality TV or album sales… it’s far, far away… above the stage, beyond the curtain…” Clay broke into song:

“Someplace clear of the smog clouds
Clean and blue
There’s a spot I can lounge in
With nothin’ else to do
Someplace clear of the smog clouds
Naps I’ll take
And it will be only up to me
If and when I wake
Someday I’ll lie down for a doze
And wake up where the winter snows
Are falling
Where laziness is like my creed
And crazy fangirls won’t stampede
That’s where you’ll find me
Someplace clear of the smog clouds
Folks can snooze
Folks snooze clear of the smog clouds
Why, then, can’t I snooze, too?
If country folks can take a snooze
Why, then, can’t I snooze, too?”

After the song had ended, Clay looked around confusedly.

“Huh… that was… weird… ah well.” He rubbed his eyes and glanced out the right window. Something caught his eye-- a trailer. It looked like the sort of trailer that musicians lug their equipment around in.

Indeed, the emblem on the back was of a large orb with a guitar inside. The logo above it read “PROFESSOR MARVEL’S CRYSTAL BALL.” It was apparently a rock band. As Clay watched, the truck pulling the trailer turned right onto a clear side of the road and drove away.

Clay looked around to make sure no other cars were blocking, and decided to follow the trailer. Whatever way they were going, they were moving, and it was better than sitting in stagnant traffic that way.

He switched lanes and sped forward, quickly catching up to the trailer, which led him like a White Rabbit onward. Clay watched the road intently, looking for any road signs that would tell him exactly where he was headed, but there weren’t any to be seen.

The two vehicles approached a tunnel that Clay had never been through before. Something told him he didn’t want to go through that particular tunnel, but there was no where on the road to turn around, so he kept driving onward.

‘There’ll be a place to turn around if I get lost,’ he thought. ‘No problem…’

The truck disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel, and Clay’s car was enveloped soon after. He turned on his headlights, a bit irked at the fact that the tunnel had no lighting in it itself.

Suddenly, it dawned on Clay that he couldn’t see the tail lights of the band trailer. Did the idiot driving it forget to turn on his headlights, or was the trailer disconnected to the truck? Either way, Clay thought it to be a bad move, because the entire tunnel was pitch black.

In fact, if he didn’t have his headlights turned on, he wouldn’t have even seen the woman standing in the road…

Clay screamed aloud and jerked the wheel to the side, slamming on his brakes and sending his car spinning across the road in his attempts to miss hitting the woman.

The walls of the inside of the tunnel must have had graffiti all over them, because as his car spun, a dazzling display of colors flashed themselves across his windshield. For a moment, his car didn’t even seem to be spinning, but being thrown forward at warp speed…

Then he hit a building.


Clay sat up with a groan. Stars slowly drifted out of his eyes as the building he’d crashed into faded into view. Suddenly, Clay remembered Raleigh, and quickly unbuckled the pooch’s cage to look inside at her.

Raleigh stared back at him, trembling, like, “What did you DO?!”

“Y’okay, puppy?” Clay croaked, shaking all over himself. “It’s alright… we’re okay…” He unbuckled himself with his free hand and climbed out of the car, staggering back against the back passenger window at what lay before him.

An entire of community of people had replaced the dark inside of the tunnel. Looking around, Clay saw that the tunnel seemed to have disappeared entirely. In its place was a small town full of… gossiping women.

“Raleigh,” Clay said quietly to the kennel in his arms, “I don’t think we’re in LA anymore.”

Most of the women had ceased in their conversations to turn and stare at Clay and his totaled car. One of them began to scream. Others covered her mouth.

However, more and more of the women began to scream, some of them Clay even found he recognized.

‘Oh God,’ he thought. ‘They’re all Claymates… What sort of a place have I crashed into?!’

Clay opened Raleigh’s kennel and set her on the ground, wrapping her attached leash around his wrist and looking around for any sign of Jerome, or a police officer—ANYONE to protect him from the mob he expected to ambush him at any moment now.

However, there was no ambush. The screams slowly died down into a dull roar of whispers and squeals. Clay considered getting back into his car and locking the doors. Where was his cell phone? He checked his pockets, pulled out his Nokia, and gave a grunt of frustration at the ‘No Service’ icon blinking at the top of the display screen.

“Great… stranded in Claymate County with no car and no cell phone,” Clay grumbled, still looking around for some means of repairing the situation. “What else can go wrong?”

Out of the blue a younger woman screamed, “She’s dead!”

Gasps erupted all around. Clay looked up.

“Who’s dead?!” He called, looking frantic. “Did I hit someone?!”

The woman who’d screamed ran forth, pointing at the front of Clay’s car. “The Wicked Witch of the East! You’ve killed her!”

Clay stared in horror at the black clad form slumped over the hood of his car. How had he not noticed that before? He ran forward, wanting to help if he could.

To his dismay, the figure began to deflate before his very eyes. All he caught was a glimpse of blonde, curled hair before all that was left of the victim was a pile of black clothes over a pair of shoes.

“Look!” another woman yelled, pointing to the sky. “It’s the Good Witch of the North!”

Still horrified at the fact that he’d killed AND deflated someone, Clay tore his eyes from the pile of clothing and up to the sky.

To make the situation even more weirded-out than it already was, a woman in a bright purple bubble was descending from the sky.

“…Okay, maybe we are in LA,” Clay said, looking down at Raleigh.

Much to the delight of the inhabitants of the town, the woman landed gracefully--right on top of Clay’s car. The purple bubble vanished, revealing more clearly its passenger.

Clay’s eyes widened. “Angela?!” he exclaimed.

The woman looked down at him, her eyes heavy with sparkly purple eye-shadow. “Not quite!” she giggled. The women of the town giggled with her, rather creepily.

“What do you mean?” asked Clay, offering her his hand to help her step down off of the car. She accepted, and hopped down onto the ground beside him, her enormous purple gown parachuting slightly on the drop.

“My name isn’t Angela,” she said, clasping both hands around an amethyst scepter. “It’s Gelanda.”

A moment of silence passed where Clay bit his lip, trying frantically not to burst into laughter. He failed.

“Your name is WHAT?! Angela, are you out of your mind!?” he cackled, hugging his sides. “Okay, okay!” he panted. “This has gotta be some sort of joke!”

Angela, or Gelanda, crossed her arms, looking steamed. “How dare you make fun of my name, you little farm boy?!” she exclaimed. She raised her scepter and bopped him in the head with it.

“Ow!” Clay rubbed his head. “Okay, okay, whatever you say, Gelanda.”

Gelanda smiled pleasantly and held her scepter up again, almost like a mythical public figure. “Good. Now, what is your name, where are you from, and are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

Brow arched, Clay looked the woman over. She had to be kidding. But, for the fear of being scepter-smacked again, Clay answered her questions. “My name is Clay, I’m from Raleigh, and I’m a BAD WITCH!” He hissed, raising his arms.

With a shriek, Gelanda raised her scepter, which began to glow and shimmer with violet sparks.

“WHOA WHOA!” Clay waved his arms, then held them up to show he was unarmed. “I was kidding! I’m not a witch at all! Jeez, take a joke, Angie!”

“MY NAME IS GELANDA!!”

“FINE!”

The two stood, glaring at each other. Then, with a soft squeak, Gelanda pulled her scepter back down and resumed the Good Witch pose.

“So!” she said, blushing slightly. “What about this then?” With her scepter she pointed to Raleigh, who sniffed the tip of the wand curiously, then tried to bite it.

“What about her?” Clay asked.

“Is it--is SHE a good witch or a bad witch?”

Now Clay began to look miffed. “She’s a dog, An--Gelanda. Nothing witchy about her. Her name’s Raleigh.”

Gelanda tilted her head, amethyst earrings twinkling. “I thought Raleigh was where you’re from.”

“Yeah, and I named my dog after my hometown.”

“You mean your home star.”

“Home star? Homestar Runner?”

“What?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, what?!”

“What?!!”

Both paused. Behind them, the women of the town giggled again.

Shaking her head, Gelanda said, “Okay, just forget it. Listen, the Claymates of Clayboard Land are all in a tizzy becau--“

“AHA!” Clay exclaimed, pointing to Gelanda. “See?! Claymates! Clay. Mates. That’s MY name, with the word MATE on the end. You DO know me, and so do they!”

Gelanda narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “Just because your name is in the name of their homeland doesn’t mean you own them.”

“Except for the Wizard!” exclaimed a Claymate from the back.

“Very good!” called Gelanda, bowing her head in a gentle nod. “The Wizard of La, however, doesn’t own people. He simply controls every aspect of their life.”

“Isn’t that the same as owning?” Clay asked, pulling Raleigh away from the pile of black clothes still lying on the ground.

Twitching, Gelanda snarled, “Stop up-staging me in front of these simpletons, freckles, or I’ll turn you into a frog.”

Clay snickered. “Okay, well, just tell me where I am.”

“You’re in the Land of La.”

“You mean LA?”

“…It’s spelled that way.”

“Yeah, but--… y’know, nevermind.”

“Now!” continued Gelanda, “The Claymates of Clayboard Land are excited because you’ve taken out the Wicked Witch of the East, who has been terrorizing them for years.”

Both of them glanced down at the pile of clothing on the ground. Gelanda made a face. “Oh, ick… Repulsive. Let’s sing a song of celebration, shall we?”

“But, why? I mean, do you guys rehearse for the death of witches or—“

“Quiet!” Gelanda bopped him with her scepter before she went into song, spreading her arms like a welcome mother to the Claymates…

“Come out, come out, wherever you’re at
And see the young man here who crushed the witch flat!”

A Claymate called, “We’re already out!”

Gelanda yelled, “HUSH!” and continued:

“He drove from his home in this thing called a car
And Raleigh he says is the name of his star.”

The Claymates joined in unison, “Raleigh, he says, is the name of his star!”

Clay blurted, “I’m not from a star, I’m from North—“

Gelanda fwapped him with her scepter. “You’re ruining the song, hush!

He brings you good news, oh haven’t you seen?
The witch is now nothing but a pile of black clothing!”

At the time, Clay took over the song:

“It really was no miracle. What happened was
just this:
My car was getting hot, my brain to rot
And suddenly beside me a band trailer shot
Right down the road—I wanted to go home --
And ended up where I don’t know the darn zip code!”

A Claymate cried, “Oh, and what if he had slowed?!”

A small group of Claymates sang amongst each other:
“The car was getting hot
Stuck in the same old spot
It killed the witch right on the spot
And then the farm was bought
Not prob’ly the sort of plot
That she had sought!
Now
Clay we’ve got
He’s really hot
And Clay you ought
To tie the knot with one of us Claymates!”

Clay exclaimed, “That hardly even rhymed! And why is everyone singing?! This is insane!”

A younger Claymate ran over to Clay and hugged his arm, singing:
“Clay, you have our thanks in scores
For now she’s nothing but a corpse!”

Another young girl followed, latching onto his other arm with:
“She’s the one we all abhorred
Now you have our thanks in scores!”

They were so adorable, Clay swooned and hugged them both.

Gelanda sang out again:
“Let the news be carried on!
That wicked witch is dead and gone!”

The entire town then burst into song:
“Bingo!
The Witch is slain.
Which old Witch?
The Wicked Witch!
Bingo! The Wicked Witch is slain!
From here on, there’s no more pain
Caused by her
Never again!
Bingo! the Wicked Witch is slain
She's gone where the has-beens go
Away, away, away, away
Let's have some pie and cake
And make a ruckus
Bingo, the merry-o
Sing it high
Sing it low
Let them know
The Wicked Witch is slain!”

ClayNation stepped forward, looking important and singing in an important sort of voice:
“As creator of the Clayboard website
In the County of the Land of La
I wish to welcome you most regally—“

Elspeth burst in:
“But we've got to verify it legally!
To see...”

“To see?”

“If she...”

“If she?”

“Is all the way, no other say…”

ClayRocks joined in:
“Totally, anecdotally…”

MamaRose10 added:
“Really, really, really, really…!”

Everyone considered her lack of variety before the entire group of moderators concluded:
“Undeniably and reliably dead!

SkooterOKC meandered forward:
“As mod’rator I must confer
I looked at what is left of her
And she's not only merely dead,
She's really, most sincerely dead!”


ClayNation exclaimed:
”Then this is a day of celebration
For all Claymates across the nation!
Yes, let the news be carried on
The Wicked Old Witch is dead and gone!”

Again, the entire town burst into song. Clay, feeling rather lost, just watched them as he picked Raleigh up and stroked her ears, fearing he may have lost his mind entirely.

“Bingo!
The Witch is slain.
Which old Witch?
The Wicked Witch!
Bingo! The Wicked Witch is slain!
From here on, there’s no more pain
Caused by her
Never again!
Bingo! the Wicked Witch is slain
She's gone where the has-beens go
Away, away, away, away
Let's have some pie and cake
And make a ruckus
Bingo, the merry-o
Sing it high
Sing it low
Let them know
The Wicked Witch is slain!”

Then, the Lecherous Broads came forth, singing to Clay:
“We represent the Lecherous Broads, the Lecherous Broads
The Lecherous Broads!
And in the name of the Lecherous Broads
We wish to welcome you to Clayboard Land!”

They all curtseyed and pulled back. In their place came a small group of men, all looking a bit uncomfortable, but happy to be there anyway. They sang:
“We represent the proud Clay Dawgs, the proud Clay Dawgs
The proud Clay Dawgs
And in the name of the proud Clay Dawgs
We wish to welcome you to Clayboard Land!”

Again, the town burst in:
“Tra la la la la la
Tra la la tra la la
Tra la la la la la la!”

“Aww, y’all aren’t even trying now,” Clay laughed. ClayNation grabbed him from behind, singing with the other moderators:
“From now on you'll be a superstar
Be a supe--
Be a supe--
Be a superstar!
And all will know just who you are!
Because you’re such a dear!
Such a dear
Such a dear
And we’ll try to fix your car!
Tra la la la la
Tra la la tra la la
Tra la la la la la.!”

It was at that moment that a horrible cackling filled the air. Everyone stopped singing and Claymates looked to the sky in horror.

Elspeth cried, “It’s the Wicked Witch of the West!”

Gelanda, who was looking her scepter over idly, casually mentioned, “Oh, she’s worse than her sister. Y’know, the one you just squished with your car.”

Clay shrieked, “WHAT?!”

END Ch. 1

And then Kaci got tired and went to bed.

“The Wizard of La”
Ch. 2

Clay gaped at what he was seeing. High in the air, perched on what looked like a microphone stand, Quiana was flying in large circles around the tiny village of Clayboard Land.

“This cannot be happening,” Clay stated. “I must have fallen asleep at the wheel, crashed, and now I’m in a coma.” He nodded to himself. “Yep, coma. This is all a figment of my—“

“Move, dimwit!” Gelanda grabbed Clay’s arm and jerked him back. Where he’d been standing, Quiana landed in a graceful trot, holding the mic stand at her side proudly.

“Gelanda,” she said in a cold greeting.

“Quelquaba,” stated Gelanda. She nodded to the microphone stand, smirking. “Nice transport y’got there.”

Quelquaba, as Gelanda had called her, sneered, “Well, we can’t all come and go by bubble! Now, where is my sister? Where is the Witch of the East?”

Gelanda let go of Clay’s arm and stated calmly to Quelquaba, “She’s dead.”

Quelquaba paused, stared. “Kessy,” she said quietly, almost mournfully. Then, she raised her head, shooting a glare all around. The sun hit her face, revealing her skin to be a deep, dark green tint instead of her usual chocolate pigment. “Who was it?!” she screamed, stamping the mic stand on the ground. “Who killed my sister, Kessylark?!” The Witch strode towards the crowd of women, who shrieked and drew away.

“I-It was me!” Clay yelled out nervously. This was definitely not the Quiana he knew. “But I didn’t mean to! She was standing in the road, a-and—“

With a bloodthirsty screech, Quelquaba lunged at him, only to be deflected by Gelanda, who blocked the way with her scepter.

“You have no power here, Quelphie. Besides, you’re forgetting about something,” she said.

The Wicked Witch stared for a moment before pulling away and striding over to Clay’s car. She grabbed up the late Kessy’s robe and pulled it away, revealing a pair of ruby encrusted sneakers.

“The Ruby Roos,” Quelquaba whispered in awe.

(Again, Clay tried not to laugh. She sounded like she was doing a Scooby Doo impression.)

They were her sister’s prized possessions, and now she had to have them for herself, but as Quelquaba leaned to get Kessy’s ruby sneakers, they suddenly vanished from sight.

Behind her, Clay gave a surprised yelp, and the Witch wheeled around to see her sister’s shoes on the young man’s feet. Gelanda stood beside him, scepter raised, poised for whatever Quelquaba had in store.

“GIVE THEM BACK! Give them to me!” Quelquaba dove at his feet, only to give a cry of agony as the shoes burned her fingertips. She stood, snarling. “Gelanda, you’ve bound them!”

Gelanda looked past Quelquaba and over the crowd of on looking Claymates. She said firmly, “The Wizard will be looking for them.”

A moment of thick silence passed before Quelquaba snatched up her mic stand, glowering.

“I’ll have those shoes, Gelanda, all in good time. And you!” She pointed to Clay, trembling with rage. “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little dog, too!”

CRACK! A cloud of smoke enveloped the hate-filled witch. When it finally cleared, she was nowhere to be seen.

Clay turned to Gelanda and blurted, “I wanna go home. Now. I need a nap more than ever.”

Gelanda shook her head sadly. “Sorry,” she said, “but I can’t help you. However, the Wizard may know what to do.”

“Who’s the Wizard? How do I find him?” Clay took a step towards her, his voice rising with urgency.

The Good Witch smiled gently. “Finding the Wizard is easy. A walk in the park, you could say. You follow the Platinum Road.”

“The what?” The man turned and looked around. On the ground in the town square was an interspiraling path of bright yellow and red cement. “That?” he asked, pointing.

“You got it.” Gelanda said. “Follow it to the Emerald City, and the Wizard will be there.”

“I don’t take any exits or…?”

Gelanda laughed, waving her scepter so that the grape bubblegum bubble she’d arrived in reappeared around her. “Just follow the Platinum Road,” she said. The bubble lifted her off of the ground.

“Wait! Where’d you get that wand thing?! Can’t you bubble me home?! Angela!!” Clay called up to the ascending orb.

The Good Witch screeched, “IT’S GELANDA!” She then composed herself and called down pleasantly to the town, “Farewell, fellow Latizens!” and was gone.

(*Latizens; citizens of La.)

Clay watched her disappear into the atmosphere with a disappointed frown. He looked down at his feet where the glimmering, rather feminine shoes had made their home, and made a face. "I'm not wearin' these," he stated as he leaned down to untie the laces. Pulling on the red cords, he found that they wouldn't budge. His eyes narrowed as he gave the shoestrings a huge tug, but to no avail.

So, he tried to slip his feet out of them. That didn't work either. It seemed that whenever he tried to tug them off, the mouth of the shoe would tighten around his ankle.

Finally, he gave up. Girly shoes were better than no shoes, seeing as though he didn't know what sort of terrain he'd have to cross to reach the Emerald City, so Clay decided to simply sport the shoes and if anyone asked, his mother made him where them.

Raleigh whined.

Turning to the town, he noticed that the majority of its inhabitants had cleared a path for him. The spirals of platinum and red wound out to two different paths leading in two different directions.

“Follow the Platinum Road…” he mused aloud, stepping forward a bit. "Follow the Platinum Road...?"

Mamarose10 scurried up to him and nodded, saying, "Follow the Platinum Road!"

Behind her came ClayNation, who concurred, "Follow the Platinum Road!"

They both tugged him forward, leading him along the spiraled path with a dizzying twirl. SkooterOKC pushed him from behind to get him going, calling out, "Follow the Platinum Road!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Clay was led around in a spiral by several more Claymates, all of them telling him to follow the Platinum Road.

In no time, the chant had turned to song:

"Follow the Platinum Road.
Follow the Platinum Road.
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the Platinum Road.
Follow the Platinum,
Follow the Platinum,
Follow the Platinum Road!"

Clay was pulled along the spiral of the Platinum Road until it led to the edge of Clayboard Land. There, the Claymates released his arms and stopped leading him, but instead waved him forward with Raleigh at his heels. Their song changed:

"You're off to see the Wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of La
You'll find he is a heck of a Wiz
If ever a Wiz there was.
If ever oh ever a Wiz there was
The Wizard of La
Is one because
Because, because, because, because, because!
Because of the wonderful things he does!
You're off to see the Wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of La!"

About ten yards from the edge of Clayboard Land, Clay turned and called back, "How will I know when I've reached the Emerald City?!"

ClayNation called back, "You'd be a dope if you missed it! Good luck!"

"...Okay, thanks!"

And he was on his way to the Emerald City.


------

Clay had been walking for well over an hour when he reached a fork in the Platinum Road. He stopped at the corner of a field of corn and stared wearily out into the distance to which each path led.

"Follow the Platinum Road..." he muttered. "Which way do we go now?"

Raleigh gave a small whine and rolled over onto her back. Kneeling down beside her, Clay said, "I know, girl, I'm tired, too. But we gotta find this Wizard person. Even if this all is a figment of my imagination, perhaps reaching the Wizard is what'll wake me up. Besides..." He looked off into the distance again. "Aren'tcha curious about what lies beyond the horizon?"

"More road," came a voice from somewhere within the corn field. "A few trees, then a forest... Not sure what's after that, though."

Clay jumped up. "Who's there?!" he called.

There was a rustling in the corn stalks. "Just me!" called the voice, which began to sound familiar.

Arching a brow curiously, Clay hopped the fence that separated him from the corn field and pulled some stalks away. What he saw almost horrified him.

"Jacob, you've been crucified!"

Looking back at him, just as surprised as Clay was, Jacob hung on a post. Bits of straw stuck out of his sleeves and collar. He looked like a rag doll.

"Crucified? More like deep fried!" said the Scarecrow Jacob. "The sun's been beatin' down on my head for ages. You wouldn't happen to have a parasol, would you?"

A closer look revealed that Jacob wasn't nailed to the post, he was just hanging there by bits of rope. Clay climbed over the stalks to him and began untying the rope.

"Oh, thanks a million, buddy! My limbs were gettin' a little stiff. How's about my waist there? It's tied in the back. There ya go. Thanks so much!" Once he was untied, Scarecrow Jacob stumbled away from the post, flipped over the fence, tumbled several feet, and landed in a sprawl on the Platinum Road. "Whoo, boy! That was a trip!"

"Are you okay?!" Clay clamored over to him, looking him over.

The Scarecrow chuckled. "M'fine, just dropped a bit of me all over the place." He scooped up a handful of straw and stuffed it into his torso, which crunched like dried plants.

"You... you're made of straw?" asked Clay in astonishment as Scarecrow Jacob stood. Then, "...How do you eat?"

Again, the Scarecrow laughed. "You ask too many questions. Of course, I'd ask a lot of questions, too, if I could..." His shoulders slumped and he looked down rather sadly. "Unfortunately, my brain's not what it oughta be."

"Why's that?" Clay picked Raleigh up to keep her from nibbling the straw coming out of Jacob's ankles. "Amnesia? 'Cause you don't seem to remember me, Jacob."

This time the Scarecrow looked totally puzzled. "Jacob? What's a Jacob?"

Sighing, Clay finally accepted the fact that no one in this crazy Wonderland was going to remember him. "Never mind... Why is your brain not what it oughta be?"

"Because I don't have any protection for my head! Months and months of being tied to that post, with the sun beatin' down on my poor head, it's fried my brain! I can't even remember how I ever got up there..." His voice trailed off in wonder as he stared off at the corn field, pondering briefly. "But, it ain't no use tryin'. I can't remember, and I probably never will... unless..."

"Unless?" Clay inquired.

The Scarecrow flourished his arms and burst into song:
"I would watch the cows a-grazin’
While I was just a-lazin’
The coolest of the cats
And on this you can be betting
My ol’ noggin won’t be sweating
If I only had a hat
All the girls would melt from swooning
To them I would be crooning."

He turned to Clay:
"What do you think of that?"

Clay replied in the same melody:
"Well, I do enjoy your singin’
But you know you would be blingin’
If you only had a hat."

Nodding in acceptance, Scarecrow continued:
"Oh but I’d never strut
I’d stride along instead
A fashion-statement sittin’ on my head
And the sun I’d never dread!
My brain wouldn’t be burnin’
Which can be most concernin’
When crows you must combat
All the while the sun is glarin’
Heck, know what? I won’t be carin’!
If I only had a hat."

As Clay watched, the Scarecrow jumped up onto the fence and actually moonwalked from one post to the next. Then, he tripped over the post behind him, rolled backwards, and sprung to his feet. Clay couldn't help but applaud.

"Gosh it would be awful pleasin’
A cap to shoot the breeze in
Or be subject of a chat
They’d say, “Scarecrow, we adore ya!”
At my brand new plaid fedora
If I only had a hat!" The Scarecrow finished his song with a dramatic fall to his knees. At this, Clay laughed.

"Hey, y'know, I have an idea. I don't have a hat with me, but I'll bet you could find one at the Emerald City," he said. "Maybe the Wizard'll even give you one himself!"

As Scarecrow climbed to his feet, he said, "Well, see, that's the thing. Hats for Scarecrows are usually old and beat up and ugly. I want a new one--a nice one! Y'think the Wizard can get me one? A fine quality hat, just the right size?"

"I don't see why not," said Clay as he set Raleigh back on the ground, hoping she'd be smart enough not to eat the Scarecrow's feet. "You wanna come with Raleigh and me?"

The Scarecrow beamed. "Why, I'd love to!"

And off they went to the Emerald City.

Some sort of musical instinct drove both men to link arms as they started down the right side of the fork in the road, assuming that the right side was the right way.

About ten feet along, they realized that they were two grown men linking arms, and promptly let go.

END Ch. 2
----------


Gosh, that took forever. x.X; Enjoy!