vovat: (Polychrome)
[personal profile] vovat
I recently noted how I don't know of any stories telling the adventures of the other three parties in The Lost Princess of Oz, so I decided to take a shot at it. Let me know what you think.


MEETING THE MARSHMALLOW TWINS: THE SCARECROW AND TIN WOODMAN’S JOURNEY

On the morning after the disappearance of Ozma was discovered, Glinda flew back to her castle, stopping on the way to instruct the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who were at that time staying at the college of Professor H.M. Wogglebug, T.E., and taking a course of his Patent Educational Pills. On hearing of Ozma’s loss they started at once for the Quadling Country to search for her. The college was located in the Munchkin Country not far from the Quadling border, so a short walk took them from a land where most of the flowers and houses were blue to one where they were red. As they walked, the Scarecrow recited, “Amo, amas, amat, amamus, ama—I can’t recall the rest. I thought that Latin pill would enable me to learn the language. How is your mechanical engineering pill working, Nick?”
“It doesn’t seem to be. At least, I can’t think of anything about engineering I didn’t already know, but perhaps I would have to be faced with an actual problem.”
“That may be. And it was, after all, only the Professor’s hypothesis that grinding the pills into powder and inserting them into our heads would work the same as swallowing does for meat people.”
As the two progressed into Quadling territory, they stopped at every house and castle they could find to ask the inhabitants if they had seen Ozma. They even queried the paper people of Miss Cuttenclip’s village, which was surrounded with a high wall to keep them from blowing away. They had soon come to the main road to the south that they had traveled some years previously when trying to get to Glinda’s palace to help Dorothy get home. After questioning a goat that was asleep in the middle of the path, the Tin Woodman asked, “How many people live in the Quadling Country anyway?”
“I remember the Professor telling me that about 500,000 people live in Oz, so if they’re more or less evenly distributed, then I suppose around…125,000. And I don’t know if that counts the animals or magically constructed people like the ones in the China Country.”
“I wonder if we’ll have to search the China Country. I really would prefer not to, you know. It’s far too fragile a place.”
“I couldn’t say. I suppose Ozma could have somehow ended up there, although there’s no greater chance of her being there than anywhere else.”
“I have to say that I’m not sure our method of searching is likely to find anything. It would take weeks to ask everyone in the country, and I don’t know that someone who would steal our ruler would tell the truth about it anyway.”
“Yes, and the two of us are originally from the Munchkin Country, and now live in the Winkie, so I wonder why Glinda had us look here.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons. Well, it looks as if we’ve reached a fork in the road.”
“Does that mean we’re close to Utensia?”
“No, not the kind of fork for eating, but the one that means multiple paths.”
“Well, if I’m not mistaken, this is around where we encountered the Fighting Trees.”
“Then I would prefer to go around. I know we can get past them with my axe, but it pains my heart to have to injure even a cruel tree. Unless you think the trees might have stolen Ozma?”
“I wouldn’t see how they could. They can’t walk, at least as far as we know, and Ozma told us she made peace with them last time she visited. That doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t pose a danger to us, though.”
So the two searchers took the road around the forest, which was marked with what appeared to be oyster shells. Alongside it were the cottages of several woodcutters, who happily greeted their compatriot Nick Chopper, but had heard nothing of what might have happened to Ozma. The rather flat land soon began to ascend gradually, and the friends noticed a range of mountains, some red and some pink, with one appearing to be as green as the Emerald City. Nearby were some foothills, and a passing sparrow advised them that there were people living on the closest hill. Climbing to the top, they noticed a sign that read, “BUNKUM HILL.”
“Welcome, illustrious strangers, to our humble hilltop community,” said a man in a red uniform who stood nearby. “We are known for two things. The first is our manufacture of bunk beds, which are excellent for saving space. The other is the manufacture of rumors, which are made in our rumor mill.” With that, the man waved toward a large windmill in the center of town.
“Do you happen to have heard anything of a lost ruler?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Oh, most certainly! It’s been quite a boon to our society. We’ve created so many juicy rumors about what happened to Queen Ozma.”
“But just rumors? No facts?”
“Facts! We don’t deal in such things here. They’re far too dull. What could have happened is always more interesting than what has happened.”
“I wouldn’t say that’s always true,” argued the Tin Woodman.
The man was about to say something else, when a boy in a tattered brown hat and red shirt with a bucket of newspapers walked past yelling, “Extry! Extry! Princess Dorothy suspected in disappearance of the Queen of Oz!”
“Dorothy? She’d never do anything to Ozma! They’re the best of friends!”
“I don’t know. I just deliver the papers, not write them. If you have a complaint, you’ll have to talk to the rumor miller.” And with that, the boy ran off, yelling all the while.
“He seems to be losing his hair,” observed the Scarecrow. “Isn’t he a little young for that?”
“Well, that’s a job hazard of being a balder-dasher,” said the man. “It will grow back, given time, but in the meantime there are always False Hoods to wear. Little Tommy Rot is one of our best.”
“Those open shoes don’t look very good for running.”
“No, but everybody in Bunkum Hill wears scandals.”
The visitors took Tommy’s advice and strolled into the center of town, passing people who were gossiping in small groups. Some were also listening to a grapevine, which was apparently telling them things. When they knocked on the door of the mill, an old man with a feather in his cap opened it, and said, “How may I help you, gentlemen?”
“My good man, we’re searching for information on what happened to our ruler, Ozma of Oz,” declared the Scarecrow.
“Ol’ Millie has churned out plenty of ideas on that. Why, it’s the biggest source of rumor since the death of the Witch of the West!”
“But we know what happened to the Witch,” objected Nick. “Dorothy melted her with a bucket of water.”
“That’s what she says happened. Were you there?”
“Well, no, but we heard about it soon afterward.”
“What are the chances that such a powerful magical being could be killed so easily? And how would a foreign girl have figured out her weakness when no one else did? Dorothy might well have been obscuring what really happened.”
“Why would she do that? Dorothy is an honest person.”
“You WOULD say that, as someone who benefited from the Witch’s death. From woodchopper to Emperor, in such a short amount of time. How often does THAT happen?”
“The fact that things don’t happen often doesn’t mean they NEVER happen,” stated the Scarecrow.
“I suppose not, but we thrive on doubt here. Ah, another set of fresh rumors!” And with that, the miller pulled a piece of paper from the chute below the turning millstones, which said on it, “King Rinkitink killed in goating accident.”
“Oh, that’s too bad! King Rinkitink was a fine fellow,” said the Tin Woodman.
“Between you and me, I doubt it actually happened.”
“Then why get people worried about it?”
“It keeps them interested.”
“Yes, but couldn’t that kind of thing be harmful? I mean, one of your newsboys said that Dorothy was involved in Ozma’s disappearance. Both of them are loved by everyone in Oz, and anyone who reads and believes it might take sides against one or the other.”
The Scarecrow was examining the walls, which were lined with clippings from papers. Noticing one, he called out, “Scraps and I aren’t married! We’re just very good friends! And Eureka DIDN’T actually eat Ozma’s piglet! And…wait, who’s Elvis?”
“I don’t know, but we get a lot of rumors about him. Maybe an elf?” suggested the miller.
“Well, it’s nice that he’s alive, anyway.” And considering that this was at least nineteen years before Elvis Presley had even been born, it was impressive in a way that the rumor mill was already discussing him, but hardly surprising.
“You two are really starting to get on my bad side. Humbug is an old Ozian tradition, you know. What about your friend Oscar Diggs?”
“The Wizard? Well, yes, he WAS a humbug, but he’s since reformed.”
“And even when he was, he was still able to give me the kindest heart in all of Oz.”
“Yes, and me my—“ began the Scarecrow, but he was cut off by a clucking animal who wandered into the mill. It was basically a chicken, but had poppy flowers growing on it in place of feathers. Two large poppies on the sides of its head reminded the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman uncomfortably of Ozma, but they did not have much time to think about it, as the animal loudly proclaimed, “A little bird told me that the Queen is being held prisoner by the Nome King, who is seeking revenge.”
“Ah! Very good! We can feed that into the mill. But what of the connection to Dorothy?”
“Well, obviously she’s in league with the Nomes! Any flapdoodle could have figured that one out, Codswallop.”
“Excuse me, Mr.—“ said Nick.
“Gibbet,” responded the bird. “Flibber T. Gibbet. I’m a poppycock, in case you couldn’t tell.”
“Ah! I should have guessed. But anyway, Mr. Gibbet, don’t you think spreading these rumors could be dangerous? I mean, the Nomes can be quite mean, but we don’t want anyone hurting them for no reason.”
“And who are you to tell us how to run a rumor mill?”
“These two have been bothering me for a while now,” said the miller.
“Well, lock them up in the mill. We can use the stuffed one for cattle fodder, and the metal one to feed goats. Then we’ll create some rumors about what happened to them. The Flutterbudgets will eat it up!”
“Ah, perfect!” Just as the man was about to advance on the visitors with a rope, however, a soft but hearty voice called out, “You’d better let them go!”
“What? What? What’s this?” asked the poppycock, running around excitedly. Two people made of some soft white substance, sort of resembling clouds, promptly entered the room. One was dressed in what appeared to be a military uniform of hardened chocolate, while the other wore a dress of spun icing. The first one was holding a ball with a fuse at the top.
“Let them go, or we’ll set off this truth bomb!” threatened the one in the dress.
“No! No! We’ll be ruined!” squawked Flibber.
“How do we know they’re not bluffing?” asked the miller.
“Do you really want to take the chance?” questioned the uniformed one.
“All right! You can go, but get out of town without bothering anybody else. Just don’t light that thing!”
The two newcomers led the celebrities out of the mill and toward the edge of town, passing a place in the back where people were bathing pigs. When the Scarecrow asked about that, the person in the dress said, “What better way to get hogwash?”
While on their way down the hill, the Scarecrow said, “Thank you for saving us. We haven’t been introduced yet.”
“Well, we know who YOU are! You’re the famous Scarecrow, former ruler of Oz! And the Tin Woodman, Emperor of the Winkies!”
“I see our reputation precedes us,” said Nick. “And who might you be?”
“We’re the Marshmallow Twins,” said the uniformed man. “I’m Marshal, and she’s Marsha. We’re from the Candy Country up north.”
“Oh, yes, near Gayelette’s palace,” observed the Scarecrow. “So what are you doing in these parts?”
“Marshal has a sweetheart around here,” said Marsha in a teasing voice.
“Yes, my sister is correct, although I suppose that technically my heart is sweeter than hers. She’s Portia Lynn, Princess of the China Country.”
“A marshmallow and a china doll? Quite an interesting combination.”
“Now, Scarecrow, you know we can’t always choose whom we love,” scolded the Tin Woodman. “I had a sweetheart once, you know.”
“We met when she was in the area with Dorothy, back when the Jester was causing trouble. The problem is, when she leaves her hometown, she can still talk but not move around. We wanted to know if Glinda could help us with that.”
“Glinda can do many things,” said the Scarecrow, “and perhaps she would be able to help you. The only problem is that we’re currently occupied with another mission. The Royal Ruler of Oz is missing.”
“And can’t Glinda find her?” inquired Marsha.
“No, for her magic has been stolen as well,” answered Nick. “We were looking for her when we came across this strange hill. Speaking of which, while I’m grateful for being rescued, I don’t know that threatening people with explosives is a very kind act.”
“It’s all right. This bomb wouldn’t have hurt anybody,” said Marshal.
“Yes, it just would have dropped some truth on them!” added Marsha.
“Sounds like a very frank bomb,” nodded the Tin Man.
“Well, I HAVE heard that the truth can hurt,” said the Scarecrow. “But where did you get such a thing?”
“From a group of goblins,” answered Marshal. “They said we might need it if we were going to be traveling in these hills. It is, from what we heard, the most direct route to Glinda’s from Cinnamon City.”
“We never liked those rumor-mongers much anyway,” said Marsha. “They kept insisting that we were from the Gelatin Isles. We’re marshmallow, not gelatin! And relatives of the King of the Candy Country, for that matter!”
The four companions began climbing a nearby mountain, which had a steady slope toward the summit. On the top stood a large house, with a door and windows about twice the size of normal ones. The door had a button for the bell, but the Tin Woodman decided to just rap on it with his tin hand. The door opened to reveal a large man in clothing rather too small for him, with one eye much smaller than the other and very messy hair. “What is it you want?” growled the man. “If you’re selling brushes, I don’t need any.”
“We were wondering if you’d seen anything of the Ruler of Oz,” said the Scarecrow, privately thinking that the man might actually need a brush or two.
“The Ruler of Oz? I don’t even know who the Ruler of Oz is! Is it still that Pastoria fellow?”
“No, it’s his daughter, Princess Ozma,” replied Nick.
“Well, it doesn’t matter to me. What good would it do me out here? What I COULD use is a sweet snack, and I think I smell one right now.”
“No, we don’t eat, so we didn’t bring any…oh, shears and snippers! You couldn’t mean our friends here, could you?”
“Ah, some large marshmallows. They would be perfect! I have a hot chocolate spring in the backyard, you see, but no source of marshmallows.”
“But, good sir, we’re living beings!” insisted Marshal.
“So what if you are? Just so long as you don’t squirm.”
“What? You, sir, are an ogre!”
“Well, yes, my parents were ogres, so that’s no surprise.” With that, the ogre grabbed Marshal and Marsha before they could protest, and began dragging them through the house. The other two immediately followed, noticing a complex system of gears and pulleys leading from the front door to a giant club. The Scarecrow guessed it was meant to deter intruders, and they only avoided it by knocking instead of ringing, not that it would have hurt them to be hit with a club anyway. The Tin Woodman, meanwhile, walked over to a gear near the club and turned it slightly, then motioned for the Scarecrow to ring the doorbell. When he did so, the club hit the ogre right in the forehead, causing him to collapse and drop his captives, who quickly ran out of the building.
“Looks like that mechanical engineering pill might have worked after all,” observed the Scarecrow.
“Well, maybe, but I think anyone could have figured that out. They just might not have been able to move the gear if they’d had normal human strength, or straw-stuffed hands like you.”
Hurrying away from the ogre’s dwelling, the four found themselves climbing another mountain, this time with no house at the top. There was, however, a grazing yak with his undercoat tied into ribbons, who walked over to the travelers and greeted them in a deep, lowing voice. “Well met, strangers. I can’t help but notice you look rather unusual.”
“I can’t reasonably deny that,” said the Scarecrow. “I am the Scarecrow, and this is my friend Nick Chopper, Emperor of the Winkies. And these two are Marshal and Marsha, the Marshmallow Twins.”
“Twins, eh? I knew some twins once. Twin ounces, they are, although they weighed more than two ounces combined. They were fraternal twins, not identical, even though both were female. One was much bigger than the other. What were their names again? Oh, yes. Dawa and Nyima. Very nice ladies, if you like cats. They used to live over on the next mountain, but they were talking about moving to the Gillikin Country. I don’t know if they ever did. Anyway, what brings you here?”
“We’re looking for a lost princess.”
“One of those? Princesses are always getting lost. Why, I recall one time a few years ago when the Princess of Prezumba went missing. There was such a to-do over it, but of course she was found again, even if we had to enlist aid from the mystic monks. I’ll tell you, they have some amazing abilities! But where was I? Oh, yes. It turned out the Princess had fallen into a mud puddle that led to an underground kingdom, and the king there wanted to marry her. She told him she couldn’t possibly, because it was the tradition in her kingdom to wait until the age of twenty-three before marriage, and she was only twenty-one. He was going to keep her anyway, but that just happened to be the day that they were invaded by an army of rabbits, the Lapine Legion, who were demanded payment from when their chief, Cottontail the Conqueror, loaned the underground monarch a golden cabbage that was never repaid, and with two hundred years of interest, the total amount accrued was—“
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but that isn’t the princess we’re looking for,” said the Tin Woodman. “We’re looking for Princess—“
“Well, of course you aren’t. It’s merely an example of how princesses are just as prone to getting lost as buttons. Not that I wear buttons, you understand, but humans do, and their habit of losing them is such that—“
“Who are these mystic monks you mentioned?” interrupted Marsha.
“The mystic monks? Oh, they live on Mount Quarm, over to the west. Did I mention that they have some amazing abilities?”
“Yes, I believe you did.”
“Well, anyway, the Princess of Prezumba had a bad habit of losing her buttons, and once lost herself as well. It must have been back in 79, or was it 78? Oh, it was 78, the year of that storm of fish over on Big Enough. You see, the Princess was—“
“I think you’ve bothered these poor travelers enough, Yarkum!” squawked a new voice, which turned out to belong to a giant red eagle.
“Bothered them? My dear Ebrin, I am merely telling them about the time when the Princess of Pezumba went missing.”
“And did they express any interest in this?”
“They’re the ones who brought up a lost princess.”
“Yes, but a different princess. Princess Ozma,” said the Scarecrow.
“Princess Ozma? The ruler of Oz? She’s missing?”
“Ozma? You should have said that in the first place! Did you know Ozma used to be a boy? Transformed by a wicked witch up in the north.”
“Yes, we knew her at the time.”
“Well, if you already knew the story, you should have just said,” sniffed the yak, who then wandered off to find more grass.
“Yarkum isn’t a bad fellow,” explained Ebrin, “but it’s difficult to get him to start talking. A fault of many yaks, from what I understand. Is there any way I can help you find Ozma?”
“We were just looking around, but perhaps we should consult these mystic monks over on Mount Quarm.”
“Well, I have to be home in time for dinner, but I think I can fly you over there.” So the eagle lifted the Tin Woodman in one talon, with the Scarecrow holding onto him. With the other, he grabbed the Marshmallow Twins, and flew off to the west. They soon came to a mountain covered in nut trees, with a large temple in the middle, and a lake with a waterfall right next to it. From it could be heard chanting, but it was in an uncommonly high pitch, rather squeaky. The four travelers approached the temple door, and found it opened by a tall stack of chipmunks standing on top of each other, all wearing red robes.
“Are you the mystic monks?” asked Marshal.
“We are!” squeaked the one on top. “I can see you were expecting someone bigger.”
“It’s not that,” said the Scarecrow. “We just haven’t seen too many rodent monks.”
“No? There’s a reason they call up chip monks, you know!”
“Then do you make chips?” questioned Marshal.
“Oh, yes!” said one of the other chipmunks. “Chocolate chips, potato chips, poker chips. It’s how we spend our time when we aren’t gathering nuts, meditating, or researching on the nature of eternity.”
“So what have you found out about eternity?”
“It’s very long!” yelled a chipmunk on the floor.
“That’s true, but there’s more to it than that, Acolyte Chirmin,” said one monk with a slightly lower voice than the others, who sat on a table nearby. “He’ll learn eventually. Anyway, I am Abbot Rukkit, leader of this monastery. And you must be the Scarecrow, the Emperor of the Winkies, and the Marshmallow Twins from the Candy Country.”
“You seem very well-informed,” observed the Scarecrow.
“Well, you’re part of the infinite, you know.”
“We’ve heard you have some skill at finding lost princesses,” said Marsha.
“Oh, that would be Brother Brikkuk. He achieved enlightenment back in 88, and floated away.”
“Oh, no! Was he all right?” asked Nick.
“We’ve yet to hear from him, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t be. I’ve heard the sky is a fine place to live. But anyway, no one else here is very good at locating lost people. We DO have an acolyte who is particularly skilled at massage.”
With that, another chipmunk rushed into the room, took a look at the Woodman, and said, “Oh, acorns and walnuts! You look stiff as anything!”
“Yes, but that’s the way I’m made.”
“Nonsense! Let me see what I can do.” And the chipmunk preceded to run up Nick’s body and adjust his joints, which really did seem to work more smoothly after that.
“I have an idea,” announced Marsha. “Do you think you’d be able to remove the stiffness from a porcelain person?”
“You mean like in the China Country?”
“Oh, so you’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, yes. It was made by the Wizard Wam, who used to have a kiln in Old Smokey, not far from here,” stated the Abbot. “He made the country and brought its people to life, but they were unable to live outside its borders. This was back when he was still trying to perfect his animation magic.”
“I’ve actually been wondering if I could do anything about that, but I’ve never had the occasion to go there before,” announced the massaging monk. “Abbot, could I go there with them?”
“I feel it is the path you must take, Acolyte Haichek.” And with that, the Abbot blew on a whistle, and an eagle even larger than the other appeared outside the door.
“This had better be important. It’s almost time for dinner!” said the eagle.
“Yes, just a short flight down to the China Country.”
“Oh, all right.” The Scarecrow and Tin Woodman decided it would be better for them to keep searching the area for Ozma, so the eagle, who was father to Ebrin and ruler of the eagles in the area, took the Marshmallow Twins off to the east. Nick and the straw man allowed the chipmunks to give them a tour of the monastery, which was quite beautiful and well-maintained.
The two friends continued searching the Quadling Country for any sign of Ozma or the missing magic, but found no leads anywhere they looked. They were able to travel by both day and night, so they were able to cover a lot of ground quickly, but no one seemed to have any idea what might have happened to the Royal Ruler. After leaving the mountains, they walked almost as far as the Great Sandy Waste, just skirting the mountain of the Hammer-Heads that they both wished to avoid. Then they passed along the eastern side of the great Quadling Forest, and soon found themselves making their way back to around where they started. The Scarecrow’s straw was starting to become musty and moldy by this point, so after passing by Fuddlecumjig, the Tin Woodman stuffed his companion with straw that he found on a nearby farm. It was not long after this that they found the diamond-studded gold dishpan that had belonged to Cayke the Cookie Cook, and soon learned from a donkey coming from the Emerald City that Ozma had been found. Glinda had also returned to the Emerald City, and had brought the Marshmallow Twins and the China Princess, who was now able to move around quite easily. After Haichek had removed the stiffness from Portia Lynn, he remained just outside the town in case any other china people wanted to venture out. Most of them were terrified of doing so, but a few intrepid explorers took their chances, being sure to bring along plenty of glue just in case.


THE ENCHANTED PIGS OF OZ: THE ADVENTURES OF THE SHAGGY MAN, HIS BROTHER, TIK-TOK, AND JACK PUMPKINHEAD

As soon as Glinda had left the Emerald City, Tik-Tok and the Shaggy Man and Jack Pumpkinhead, who had been present at the conference concerning the search for Ozma, began their journey into the Gillikin Country. Shaggy’s brother accompanied them as well, but the Royal Historian tended to forget about him. As the four of them progressed north into the purple land along the Road of Yellow Brick, Shaggy’s brother admonished Jack for stopping to search the branches of every tree.
“I don’t think Ozma is going to be found on a tree branch, Jack,” said the man.
“Well, you never know, do you?” replied the Pumpkinhead, who was temporarily stopping his search of the trees to look under a rock.
“Jack does have a point,” said Tik-Tok, in his slow, mechanical fashion. “When you are deal-ing with mag-ic, just a-bout a-ny-thing is poss-i-ble.”
“Then maybe we should go ahead and look under every brick in the road,” said Shaggy’s brother.
“You know, I never even thought of that!” exclaimed Jack.
“I wasn’t serious, you know.”
“Please don’t argue,” advised Shaggy. “We’re more likely to find Ozma united than divided.”
“I know, Shags. It’s just that, when faced with something like this with no clues whatsoever, where do you even start looking? Who would be able to capture our Ruler?”
“Old Mombi held her prisoner for years,” answered Jack.
“That is true,” said Shaggy. “I don’t suspect she would have kidnapped her again, do you?”
“It would be diff-i-cult, as Glin-da took away her mag-ic,” stated Tik-Tok.
“Still, Mombi lived around here, didn’t she?” And sure enough, Jack remembered the location just off the road where Mombi’s old hut stood, not far from a small Gillikin village. He pointed out where Mombi had locked him up, allegedly for years.
“Wasn’t it actually only a few hours, Jack?” inquired Shaggy.
“Maybe. I might have lost track of time.”
The searchers saw that the hut itself looked abandoned, and the fields around it had not been cared for. Jack stopped a while to observe the birthplace of his original head, now an overgrown patch full of squashed and moldy pumpkins. Also missing were the animals Mombi had kept.
“I remember hearing that the four-horned cow was taken to another farm, but I see a pigpen here, and I don’t know what happened with the pigs,” observed the Shaggy Man.
The travelers looked around the grounds for a little while, but were unable to find anything that might have been a clue as to what happened to Ozma, or Mombi for that matter. Jack did, however, find a strange item inside a tree. It appeared to be a pipe with a long wooden stem hung with feathers and a stone bowl, with a pouch of tobacco attached.
“Interesting,” said Shaggy. “It looks like an Indian design from back in America.”
“Sioux, most likely,” added his brother. “I don’t know how it would have gotten here in Oz, though. And did Mombi smoke pipes?”
“Not that I know of,” replied Jack, “but there’s a lot nobody knows about her.”
Shaggy placed the pipe inside a bag he was carrying, and the searchers continued on to a house that looked much better kept, with children playing on the lawn. A boy and a girl were playing tag when they noticed the visitors, and approached them.
“You must be Jack Pumpkinhead!” exclaimed the girl, who was wearing a purple frock and shoes decorated with cabbages. “You were brought to life by that nasty Mombi down the way.”
“And that’s the machine man from the Emerald City!” added the boy. “And the Shaggy Man!”
“And his brother,” spoke up that man, who was somewhat used to not being recognized. “You can call me Wiggy.”
“I’m Pectina Jamb, and this is my brother Boysenbarry.”
“Any relation to Jellia Jamb in the Emerald City?” questioned Jack.
“Jellia? She’s our cousin! How is she doing?”
“Oh, everybody does well in the city. Well, except for recently.”
“Yes, Queen Oz-ma has gone miss-ing, and we are try-ing to find her,” said Tik-Tok.
“That’s terrible!” shouted Pectina. “You’d better come inside and talk to my folks.”
The four travelers entered the house, where a large family was starting to gather for dinner. The head of the household was Jimb Jamb, who lived there with his wife Marmalada and brother Phigg, along with their children of many different ages. Some were almost adults, while the youngest was a toddler named Butteranne. All four sat down when invited, although Jack and Tik-Tok were unable to eat anything. The meal was a glazed ham with a fruit salad, and some tasty sherbet for dessert. During the meal, the visitors discussed their dilemma, as well as the latest news from the capital and Jimb and Marmalada’s daughter Jellia. The Jambs could offer them no advice on where to look for Ozma or the missing magic, or what might have happened to Mombi, although Marmalada did mention that she thought she noticed Mombi’s pigs making their way up toward the north. Jimb also advised consulting the Good Witch of the North. The two humans spent the night there, while Jack and Tik-Tok stayed up and talked until the mechanical man wound down. As Jack’s fingers were not good at such tasks, he waited by himself until Shaggy woke up and was able to restore Tik-Tok’s functions.
That morning, after a quick breakfast of oatmeal with apples and cinnamon, the party continued its trek to the north, heading down a road that they heard led toward the Good Witch’s house. After a few hours, they came upon a pig lying in the middle of it, with another rooting around in the field nearby. Shaggy greeted the second pig, who turned out to be a sow, and promptly woke the other one with her nose.
“What? What is it?” sleepily asked the pig in the road.
“I think these good people might want to get around you,” said the sow.
“Oh, all right.” And with that, the large pig slowly rose to his feet and said, “My apologies, but where else is a road hog going to sleep but in the middle of a road?”
“Oh, are you a road hog?” questioned Wiggy.
“Most certainly. And Sue here is a pig pen.” Sue showed off her tail, which had an end that had been dipped in ink. Tearing a leaf from paper from a nearby tree with her mouth, she wrote on it, “Greetings and salutations!”
“So what does a road hog do?” asked Jack.
“I have an affinity for roads, and can usually tell where they go,” answered the hog. “It’s a magical ability, I suppose, as is Sue’s writing.”
“Do you practice magic, then?” questioned Shaggy.
“Not by choice. We used to live with Mombi, an old lady everyone said was a witch, although she wouldn’t admit it herself. I suspect the scraps she fed us had magic in them, and it gave us these powers. It can actually be helpful to us, but it didn’t work out so well for my sister and Sue’s brother.”
“I’ve forgotten exactly. Do you remember, Sue?”
“I probably have it somewhere in my notes,” mentioned the sow, starting to root through a bag she carried on her neck.
“If you don’t remember, it’s not that important,” said Shaggy. “Anyway, we were trying to reach the home of the Good Witch of the North.”
“You’re on the right path,” announced the road hog. “Here, I’ll guide you.” And with that, the hog began sniffing the ground, leading the way along the road. It forked a few times, but the pig was always completely certain about which way to go. As they approached the Gillikin River, they noticed a familiar figure sitting on a rock and fishing.
“Why, it’s Omby Amby!” called the Shaggy Man.
“Shaggy? What are you doing here?” asked the fisherman, who was dressed in a green military uniform and had a long green beard.
“We’re looking for Princess Ozma.”
“Ozma? Why? Is she lost?”
“Yes,” replied Jack Pumpkinhead. “Nobody knows what happened to her, so we were sent here to look for her.”
“My stars!” shouted the Soldier, as he rose to his feet. “My Queen missing? I see I have been derelict in my duties!”
“There was no way for you to know,” said Jack.
“Yes, but now it’s my job, as the Royal Army, to find her! Besides, I’ve been fishing for nearly two months, and I haven’t caught anything except some old tires.”
The hog promptly ran over to the Soldier’s stack of tires and gobbled them up, while Sue introduced herself to Omby Amby. “Are you really Princess Ozma’s entire Royal Army?” she asked.
“Well, mostly. There are some other officers, but they don’t do much other than appear in parades and pageants. Not since our raid on the Nome Kingdom, anyway.”
“And you’re very busy, aren’t you?” said Wiggy.
“I do have my moments. In February, I chased a groundhog out of the garden. Anyway, where were you headed?”
“We were go-ing to con-sult the Good Witch of the North,” replied Tik-Tok.
“Then I shall accompany you. For-ward march!” And with that the Soldier shouldered his gun, which had flowers in the barrel, and followed the hog across a bridge, with the others following closely. Soon, they had come to a purple forest, with soft mossy ground and purple flags planted near the trees. After a stop to rest, while the pigs ate some mushrooms and the three humans huckleberry pie from a plant and grape soda from a nearby stream, the party made steady progress through the woods until Jack Pumpkinhead noticed something off the side of the road.
“Oh, yes!” said Shaggy. “It looks like a stack of trinkets.”
The Shaggy Man was correct about this, and a closer look revealed that it included trophies, party horns, tops, medals, and even some coins. From this stack emerged another pig, somewhat smaller than Sue, who called out, “Roger! Sue!”
“Sal!” exclaimed these two pigs together. Then Sue said, “Now I remember! You became a prize pig.”
“Yes, I generate a prize every day. I really don’t know what to do with them. You’ll notice I built myself a little house.”
“And do you know what happened to Fred?”
“You don’t remember? He became a war hog, and had to go off on his own for fear of hurting somebody.”
“I don’t see how a pig would be able to hurt much of anybody,” said Jack.
“They can be pretty dangerous,” stated Shaggy. “I remember hearing an old Greek myth about a wild pig that took multiple heroes to hunt him down.”
“Yes, but that was a boar, not a domesticated pig,” objected Wiggy.
“Yes, but what is it that makes a pig domesticated?” asked Sue philosophically. “I do seem to recall a boar coming around Mombi’s house before. According to her, he stole some of her magic books.”
“I remember that, too,” said Sal. “It’s different with Fred, though. He’s not a violent pig, but he’s like me in that he can’t help producing things. In his case, though, it isn’t prizes but weapons, and it’s much more often than once a day.”
When the party had explained that they were on their way to see the Good Witch of the North, Sal decided to join them, suspecting that the Witch might somehow be able to stop her prize generation. As Roger led the way along the road, Sal had to stop at one point to produce her daily prize, which came out of her mouth. It was a red ribbon for the best pumpkin to which Jack took a bit of a fancy, so Shaggy pinned it to the Pumpkinhead’s shirt. By this time, it was starting to get dark, but Roger announced, “There should be a town up ahead where we can spend the night.”
It was still a few hours before the party reached the town, which was made up of dome-shaped purple houses. According to a sign on the gate, it was called Mulbury. Right outside the gate stood a small old woman dressed in white and holding a wand with a letter N on the end. Accompanying her was a dragon in rubber boots.
“Why, you’re the Good Witch of the North!” exclaimed Shaggy.
“At your service,” said the woman, with a curtsy. “And this is Agnes, the Amiable Dragon.”
“We can’t actually be at your service right now, though,” insisted Agnes, “as we’re here to prevent a war.”
“A war?” chorused the travelers.
“Yes, Mulbury is at war with an invader,” explained the Witch. “They wanted me to bring Agnes here to help them fight, but I much prefer not to use a violent solution.”
“I agree whole-heartedly!” said the Soldier.
“So who is this invader?” inquired Wiggy.
“From what I’ve heard, it appears to be a pig. It arrived firing bullets from its nose, and when attacked, it just kept fighting back with more weapons.”
“Why, do you think that could be Fred?” asked Sal.
“Fred? Fred who?”
“My brother,” replied Sue. “He can’t help producing weapons, because he was turned into a war hog by eating Mombi’s scraps. At least that’s what we think happened.”
“If only there were some way to calm him down,” said Sal.
“I did once have an artifact that could end warlike behavior,” said the Witch, “but it was stolen years ago. A peace pipe, to be exact.”
“Pipe? You mean like this?” asked Shaggy, taking the pipe Jack had found from his bag.
“Yes, this was it! Now, if only there were a way to get close enough to this Fred.”
“I could probably do it,” said Agnes, “but he might perceive me as a threat.”
“It is my duty as Army of Oz to fight against such conflicts,” stated Omby Amby, “but it is also foolish to put myself in unnecessary danger. I propose that Tik-Tok, who cannot be injured by most weapons, find this war pig.”
So the mechanical man steadily marched into the city with the pipe and a box of matches provided by the Shaggy Man. As Tik-Tok fell just upon entering the gates, Jack decided to accompany him to help with such problems. All of the houses in town were boarded up, and not only were bullets flying through the air, but so were cannonballs and the occasional small missile. A few particularly brave citizens were approaching the center of town with swords, only to run back away when attacked. The pig turned out to be sitting on the steps near a fountain, covered in armor and firing bullets from its nose. One of them grazed Jack’s head, breaking off a bit of the side of the shell. The Pumpkinhead clumsily fell to the ground, knocking the mechanical man over with him. Tik-Tok was basically helpless like this, but Jack managed to reach out to the pig and place the pipe in its mouth. He was very unsure about lighting matches, being made of wood, but as it seemed the only choice he struck one against Tik-Tok’s body and threw it toward the pipe bowl. The change was pretty much instant, with the pig ceasing to fire bullets. As soon as the area had cleared up, a man with a sword came rushing in, shouting, “Have at you, pig!”
“No! Stop!” called Jack. And he did the first thing he could think of, which was throwing his own head at the man before he could attack the pig, promptly knocking him over.
“Thank you, wooden man,” said Fred, coughing a bit. “I don’t normally smoke, but now I don’t feel I could fire another shot.”
“Don’t mention it,” responded Jack, in a rather crushed voice, as his head was now lying on top of the man who had fallen on the ground.
The Good Witch had soon entered the town with the others, and after a brief conversation with Fred, had the Soldier go from door to door to tell the people what had happened. Fred had a joyful reunion with his old companions, and the Witch said she would do what she could to break the spell on Sue. When Shaggy told her that Ozma and all of the most important magic in Oz were missing, however, she was quite disturbed.
“Let’s return to my hut and see what we can do,” advised the Good Witch.
It was not a long distance to Tattypoo’s home, and it appeared that her magic had not been stolen with that of Ozma, Glinda, and the Wizard. Still, none of it was of any use in locating the lost Ozma or any of the other magic. The only hint was from her magic slate, which wrote out, “Seek out the castle of wicker and the single fruit in the center of the Great Orchard.”
“What Great Orchard would this be?” inquired the Shaggy Man.
“I couldn’t say,” said Tattypoo. “There is a land of orchards in the southern Munchkin Country, but I don’t know whether that’s its official name.”
“Ojo and Unc Nunkie are searching the Munchkin Country, so if it’s there, they’ll probably come across it,” stated Wiggy. “Are there any orchards in the Gillikin Country we should try?”
“Not that I can think of. I will continue to do what I can to find our beloved Ruler. Some of the magic here was originally Mombi’s, and I still haven’t figured out all of it. Still, you should probably keep searching, since you might find her before I can.”
The party spent the night at Tattypoo’s hut, and the pigs decided to remain there, as the Witch had many tasty vegetables in her garden. She was able to alter the spell on Sal so that she would only generate prizes when she chose to, and was careful to make sure all trace of violence had been removed from Fred. The others left the house and looked elsewhere in the country, looking through the Forest of Gugu and even parts of the Great Grey Gillikin Swamp. On their return to the Witch’s hut, Tattypoo told them that her slate now read, “The Lost Princess of Oz has been found!”, and she sent them back to the Emerald City by magic. They soon learned what the slate’s earlier advice had meant, and were glad to meet the Frogman, being very polite to him and making him feel quite at home.

THE COOKYWITCH COVEN: ADVENTURES OF OJO, UNC NUNKIE, AND DR. PIPT

An hour after the Shaggy Man’s party had left the Emerald City, Ojo and Unc Nunkie joined Dr. Pipt and together they traveled toward the Munchkin Country. They made their way along a blue highway that, by the time night fell, had reached Jinjur’s ranch. The former General of the Army of Revolt had settled down to raise cows and grow crops, including cream-puffs, macaroons, and caramels. The searchers explained the situation to Jinjur, who gave them a good dinner but had no information about what might have happened to Ozma or the missing magic.
“It’s not like Ozma has any enemies,” stated Ojo.
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” argued Jinjur. “Mombi held her prisoner for years, and she made a bad enemy of the Nome King as well. Of course, Mombi has lost her magic powers, and I hear the King was driven out of his own kingdom.”
“Yes, Betsy and the Shaggy Man told us about that. I think he might still be living there, but he’s no longer king, and doesn’t have any magic.”
“Wouldn’t someone who doesn’t have their own magic be more prone to stealing it?” suggested Dr. Pipt.
“Perhaps,” spoke Unc Nunkie, who had been silent throughout the meal so far.
“This is a good dinner, by the way.”
“Thank you, but I can’t take credit for it. My husband used to cook, but he ran off somewhere and hasn’t come back. I’m probably better off without him, but for the chores he did. That’s why I’ve hired a cook.” And the farmer called into the room this cook, Cardamom Cornflower, a tall woman whom she explained used to be a colonel in her army.
“After Ozma took back the Emerald City, I fell back on my career as a cook,” said Cardamom. “I studied under a chef named Paella, who lives to the south.”
“If only there were some kind of magic that let someone be a good cook, that would have helped matters for me,” stated Jinjur. “Still, it’s nice to get reacquainted with the Colonel.”
“I’ve heard that there might be some sort of magic like that. Chef Paella told me that her order had come across indications of an ancient talisman that made its owner a good cook. She’s never been able to find any information on what the talisman might be, but she thinks it’s part of their history.”
“If only my wife had access to that magic,” said Dr. Pipt. “But what’s this order you speak of?”
“Oh, it’s an order of cooks. They sometimes call it the Dinner Order. Some of the things they’ve accomplished seem nothing short of wizardry.”
“I think I might have heard of them before. Do you think you could introduce us?”
“Why, certainly, but Chef Paella’s place is some journey away, and I don’t want to leave the General without food.”
“That’s all right. You’ve made enough to last me for a few more days. I’d come with you, but I have to harvest the macaroons.”
The next morning, after a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, the party set out to the south, following a busy road along which farmers and animals were walking. By evening, they had come to an orange and brown village on the bank of the Munchkin River, in an area full of wildflowers of many colors. This was Herville, inhabited by former members of the Army of Revolt, and ruled by the former Brigadier General Tanjrine. They greeted Cardamom quite warmly, and were interested to know her news of their former commander. When Ojo and Dr. Pipt had explained about the missing Ozma, they were all quite worried, and Tanjrine asked what they could do to help.
“Nothing!” said Unc Nunkie.
“I think he means there really isn’t anything you can do, other than keep an eye out for her,” explained Ojo.
Further walking brought the group into a blue forest, which seemed to be thankfully free of dangerous animals. At around noon, Ojo and Unc Nunkie searched for food, while Cardamom talked with Dr. Pipt.
“This Unc Nunkie is a rather quiet fellow, isn’t he?” inquired the cook.
“Yes, he’s been that way for years.”
“Well, even though he’s not talking, he seems a little nervous to be in this area.”
“He hasn’t told me much, obviously, but I do recall him mentioning an enemy living in the south. There’s a lot about Unc I don’t know, and nobody else seems to either. He’s apparently a descendant of the Kings of the Munchkins, and might have ruled himself if it hadn’t been for that…business with Froom.”
“Oh, right. Froom the Fraud, who convinced Ozma he was the rightful king. I wonder what did happen to the old rulers.”
“It’s hard to say. I do remember a High King Phillipos ruling from Munchkinezia, back before it was destroyed, and another king ruling over most of the small countries in the south. You’d think I would remember it better, but it’s almost like something is clouding my mind.”
“I feel that way too. I mean, I DID study history in school, but it’s so hard to recall. Something about a Blue Emperor, maybe?”
“That sounds familiar, but I just can’t place it.”
“Isn’t it possible that Unc Nunkie’s enemy could have been the one who captured Ozma and stole her magic?”
“Yes, maybe, but—Oh, they’re coming back!”
Ojo and Unc Nunkie returned with their arms full of fruit and nuts, which Cardamom expertly made into a tasty dish. Then, after resting for a little while, the four companions resumed their journey. The cook had some trouble finding her way in the woods, but a friendly deer guided them to a building with teacup turrets and a pie on top. A sign on the door said, “Closed for Meeting,” but Cardamom knocked on the door, which was answered by a tall woman in an apron who had bright red hair.
“Why, Miss Cornflower!” exclaimed the woman. “What are you doing here?”
“My friends here wanted to meet the Dinner Order,” answered Cardamom.
“Well, that should be easy enough, as they’re all gathered here.” And with that, the woman led the way into the building, where several women were sitting at a table. There was an enormous woman holding a giant fork and spoon, an old lady in a peaked hat with a long nose and chin, and another woman with auburn hair and glasses wearing a Victorian-style red dress. There was a fourth person there as well, but as soon as she saw the guests she promptly rushed out of the room.
“That was an abrupt exit,” observed the woman who had answered the door.
“She had important business elsewhere, Ella,” said the giant lady.
“I told you, Mother, I prefer Paella.”
“That sounds too foreign,” Ella’s mother said, shaking her spoon in her daughter’s direction.
“A friend of mine from down in the Quadling Country gave it to me.”
“Can we just get on with business?” questioned the woman in the peaked hat. “Who are these strangers, and what are they doing here?”
“Well, this is my student, Cardamom Cornflower, but I’m not sure about these others.”
“I’m Dr. Ozwald Pipt, former Crooked Magician, and these are Unc Nunkie and his nephew Ojo,” spoke up that personage.
“My name is Ella, but you can call me Paella. These others are Sugarene from Overhill in the Gillikin Country, Floss Confection from Cinnamon City in the Quadling Country, and my mother Squalma, the Imperial Squawmos.” Paella sighed a little as she introduced the last.
“I’m entitled to that title! I have my own town!” declared Squalma. “You still haven’t accomplished anything of the sort!”
“A town where you keep people in cans and jars, Mother.”
“Well, how else are they going to keep from spoiling?”
“But I thought no one died or became seriously ill in Oz,” objected Ojo.
“Oh, that might be the case NOW, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? Fairy spells aren’t always to be relied on. I prefer good old cookywitchery.”
“Cookywitchery? I believe I’ve heard of that,” said Dr. Pipt. “Some say cookywitches are next in wizardry to sorceresses.”
“Illegal!” said Unc Nunkie, wagging a finger at the women.
“Oh, it’s not really magic in the illegal sense,” explained Sugarene. “Many foodstuffs in Oz have natural magical properties, and we just bring them out. The woman who was just here was telling me her idea about a baking powder that could make anything rise.”
“Who was she, anyway? She looked familiar,” stated Cardamom.
“She’s not a full-fledged cookywitch, just someone who occasionally dabbles,” said Squalma. “I think her name is Bina or something.”
“So what brings you here?” asked Floss.
“Our ruler, Princess Ozma, has been captured by some unknown person, who seems to have also stolen all the important magic in the land,” explained Ojo.
“We were wondering if you had any way to locate her,” added Dr. Pipt.
“In my town, we swear by reading tea leaves,” suggested Sugarene.
“Oh, I hate that!” said Floss. “I never know where to start reading.”
“I understand the scryers of old would obtain information from the entrails of animals,” stated Paella. “That sounds rather cruel, but perhaps the fruit of sausage trees would work as a substitute.”
The cookywitches ended up trying several methods, but none of them found anything. Finally, Squalma said, “Enough with this weak witchery. The only way to locate Ozma and the missing magic is to engage in some demonology.”
“Demonology? That sounds dangerous,” said Sugarene.
“Oh, don’t be such a coward! It’s simply another form of cooking. Miss Confection here has access to some dough and an oven from Bunbury, and it would be a simple matter to make a Devil’s Food Cake.”
“How would she have gotten those?” inquired Dr. Pipt.
“Oh, Jacob Bunn and I are old friends,” explained Floss. “Still, I’m not sure I like the idea.”
“I’m not sure I do either,” stated Paella, “but as they say, desperate times call for desperate measuring cups.”
“I always wondered how the inhabitants of Bunbury could be alive,” said Dr. Pipt. “When I invented my Powder of Life, I thought it was something unique.”
“Invented?” laughed Sugarene. “I think Wam would have something to say about that.”
“Well, yes, he DID make a very similar powder. I adapted it to replace some ingredients that you just couldn’t get anymore, and made it rather more potent. Some of Wam’s creations could only live under very specific conditions.”
“Yes, like the china people who can only move around in their own country,” said Floss. “I believe Bunbury was something like that as well. Glinda obtained a few bits of life-giving magic from Wam’s supplies after he disappeared, including the dough recipe and the living paper that Miss Cuttenclip uses to make her dolls.”
After some more argument, the cookywitches finally decided to try Squalma’s idea, mixing the ingredients together and baking the result in a special oven. When it was finally ready, they opened the oven door, and out jumped a devil’s food cake with a face, arms, and legs.
“Ah, thank you, my dear ladies, for bringing me to life,” said the cake in a dark, rich voice. “I feel I have great power, but I have not yet had the opportunity to test it.”
“Oh, Devils Food, we beseech your help in finding Ozma, the lost Royal Ruler of Oz,” exhorted Paella.
“Ozma? Why would I want to help you find her?”
“Why, because she’s the rightful ruler of Oz!” exclaimed Floss.
“Rightful by whose standards? My great and fiendish mind has decided that it would be best for me to join forces with another, who currently stands on the brink of conquering the Land of Oz. I shall offer my services to Ugu!”
“Who-gu?” asked Sugarene. “Is that like the blowfish?”
“No, he is a great magician, the descendant of the most powerful wizard and sorcerer who ever lived.” And Devils Food ran out of the room and jumped out a window. By the time the others had caught up to him, he was flying out of the forest on a pie plate.
“Stole my magic pie-in-the-sky plate, did he?” said Paella. “He’ll pay for that!”
“Ozma!” admonished Unc Nunkie.
“Yes, I think Unc is right,” said Ojo. “Helping Princess Ozma should be our first priority, if we can. I’m sure she’d be able to help us retrieve your pie plate.”
“Then how are we going to follow him? And how do you fight a devil’s food cake?” asked Paella.
“With an angel food cake?” suggested Ojo.
“Why, that’s it!” exclaimed Sugarene. “We’ll get to work right away!”
It did not take much time for the women to bake a light, airy angel food cake, which floated out of the oven bearing a halo. Wasting no time, it said, “You have summoned me to combat my counterpart, Devils Food.”
“But can you stop him?” questioned Paella.
“I should be able to. Come with me!”
The people in the café rushed outside, and the cake promptly levitated them into the air and flew to the west. Soon, they had caught up with Devils Food in the pie pan, near a wood of pine trees at the Quadling border. Angel Food returned his companions to the ground, and confronted Devils Food.
“Do you really think you can prevent me from joining Ugu, you goody-two-shoes?” demanded the chocolate cake.
“Actually, I’m not wearing shoes, but yes.”
“Bah! You and all your powers of goodness couldn’t destroy me.”
“I have no intention of destroying you. I merely want to bring some sweetness and light into your baked heart.”
Angel Food then shined a light down on Devils Food and the pie pan, raining down glittery sprinkles. When hit with them, the chocolate cake tried resisting, but soon changed his mind and a smile formed on his face.
“I believe you have shown me the light, Your Highness. I shall now recant of my wicked desires, and perform good works from now on.”
“Do you think you could start by telling us where to find Princess Ozma?” inquired Ojo.
“No, I don’t think my powers extend that far, but I will do my best.”
Both cakes returned to Paella’s café, and helped the cookywitches to attempt to find the missing princess, with Cardamom assisting them. Ojo, Unc Nunkie, and Dr. Pipt, meanwhile, left the place to continue their search. If the boy and the former magician noticed that Unc was leading them mostly to places in the northern Munchkin Country, they said nothing about it. When they finally gave up and returned to the Emerald City, they learned that Ozma had been found, and that Ugu was the one who had kidnapped her but had been rendered harmless.
When recounting their adventures, Ojo and Dr. Pipt said little of the cookywitches. They were not entirely sure that their magic was limited to the natural sort, but at the same time were grateful for their help and not eager to report them to the authorities. Dr. Pipt also swore that the woman he had seen sneaking out of the café was Mombi, but Ozma assured him that the witch had been turned back into a child. Some time later, they found that Mombi had indeed regained her old age, and was once again living in her old house. She also managed to strike up somewhat of a friendship with Cayke the Cookie Cook, whose dishpan intrigued her. At one point, Cayke allowed her to borrow it to visit the Kingdom of Zohumble and get the Queen’s cookie recipe, but the Queen ended up cheating them, leading to Glinda cursing her and her husband. Mombi later allied with Blinkie in an attempt to conquer Oz, then sought employment as cook in the Kingdom of Kimbaloo, but those stories are both told elsewhere.
As for the two cakes, Angel Food decided to explore the sky, while Devils Food relocated to the town of Bunbury. Whether he kept his promise to only do good was debatable, but he did perform his magic in the service of King Hun Bun.

NOTES

• I used a thesaurus to get some of the names in the Bunkum Hill section, although I thought of quite a few of them on my own.
• According to a letter from L. Frank Baum, the Marshmallow Twins were supposed to appear both in a chapter of Patchwork Girl (to replace the excised Garden of Meats episode) and another book. They never appeared at all as far as I know, so I used them here.
• The Candy Country and its Giant Royal Marshmallow are from Roger Baum’s Dorothy. The film version, Legend of Oz: Dorothy’s Return, has the character Marshal Mallow fall in love with the China Princess. While there were some major missteps in the film, I liked that element, so I tried to adapt it here.
• Prezumba was simply a place I made up for the yak’s story, but that isn’t to say I might not develop it further in a later tale.
• I wanted to keep these stories fairly short, but the book indicates that the other search parties were gone for as long as Dorothy’s or longer, and their adventure took place over more than a week. As such, I indicated that the parties each had more time searching after the experiences they had here.
• The subject of Mombi’s pigs was brought up in a list of story suggestions before, perhaps by Fred Meyer. The idea there was that they might have been enchanted people, but I instead made them pigs who were altered in punny ways by Mombi’s magic.
• Jellia’s father Jimb Jamb is named and established as Mombi’s closest neighbor in Onyx Madden’s Mysterious Chronicles.
• The boar who steals books from Mombi is a major character in Greg Gick’s Bungle and the Magic Lantern.
• The name Tattypoo for the Good Witch of the North and her dragon companion Agnes are from Ruth Plumly Thompson’s Giant Horse.
• Mycroft Mason’s “Four Views of General Jinjur” establishes that Jinjur’s husband left her (although other sources suggest he eventually returned) and that the King of the Munchkins from Ozma was a pretender.
• Herville and Brigadier General Tanjrine are introduced in Phyllis Ann Karr’s Hollyhock Dolls.
• The Imperial Squawmos and the concept of a cookywitch derive from Thompson’s Cowardly Lion.
• Paella and her café appear in another story of mine, “Vaneeda of Oz,” which is set to appear in The Lost Tales of Oz.
• The reason why Unc Nunkie is nervous about searching the southern Munchkin Country, and indeed his and Ojo’s back story in general, is revealed in Thompson’s Ojo.
• Henry Blossom’s Blue Emperor gives more detail on that character, and why no one remembers him very well. The same book also visits Wam’s workshop on Old Smokey, although the character of Wam was previously mentioned in Cowardly Lion and Wishing Horse. His fate is revealed in Melody Grandy’s Seven Blue Mountains trilogy.
• The name Phillipos for the former King of the Munchkins is from Joe Bongiorno’s Royal Timeline of Oz. March Laumer called him Obediah XI.
• Sugarene of Overhill is from Fred Otto’s “The Wogglebug’s New Clothes.”
• Cinnamon City and Floss Confection appeared in a collaborative story called The Ruby Ring of Oz on the old International Wizard of Oz Club forums. Jared Davis came up with Floss’s name, but the city was my idea.
• Thompson’s advertising pamphlet Billy in Bunbury refers to Devils Food as King Hun Bun’s magician. I decided to give him a bit of an origin story.
• Mombi’s further adventures appear in several books. She regains her childhood in Susan Saunders’ Dorothy and the Magic Belt, and returns to her old age in Chris Dulabone’s Dagmar. Her experience with Cayke’s dishpan is from Vincent Ward’s Beany. She teams up with Blinkie in Larry and Jack Breton’s Ork, and serves as cook in Kimbaloo in Thompson’s Lost King.

September 2017

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