The Land of Stories--Worlds Collide

by Chris Colfer

  The Mad Moth got to its feet, roared like a Tyrannosaurus rex, and beat on its broad chest like a gorilla. The creature was such a fascinating sight, all the pirates on the Empire State Building stopped fighting to watch it—some even took a seat. The Mad Moth leaped off the Dolly Llama, using the entire ship as a diving board, and whooshed toward Tinker Bell and the Rosary Chicken. The Mad Moth caught up to the chicken and the fairy within a few feet of the street below.

  “SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!”

  The Rosary Chicken was more afraid of the Mad Moth than the fall. The massive insect returned to the Dolly Llama and gently placed the chicken and Tinker Bell’s jar on the deck. Peter Pan and the characters from Starboardia cheered the Mad Moth’s bold rescue. It was so impressive, even a few of the Jolly Roger pirates clapped along.

  “NOOOOOO!” Captain Hook yelled. “He was supposed to lose something he loved!”

  The livid captain slid down the Empire State Building’s spire and landed beside Peter Pan on the roof of the observation deck. The boy was still trapped in the net and couldn’t move. Captain Hook raised his sword over Peter’s head, preparing to strike him with a final, fatal blow. Right before the captain would have slain the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up, Auburn Sally somersaulted across the roof and sliced off Captain Hook’s remaining hand. The captain’s sword (and his hand) fell to the ground.

  “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” Captain Hook roared in agony.

  Strangely, instead of blood gushing from the captain’s veins, the only thing that came out was words. All the adjectives that James M. Barrie used to describe the horrible Captain Hook spewed from the captain’s severed wrist.

  Captain Hook tucked his wounded arm into his shoulder and lost his balance. He fell over the railing of the observation deck and plunged toward the ground. The captain hit the street with such a powerful thump that the entire block rattled. When the pirates looked down, instead of seeing the captain’s body, they saw more of James M. Barrie’s words splattered across the pavement. The words slowly sizzled into smoke and disappeared.

  After witnessing their captain’s fall to his death, the Jolly Roger pirates raised their hands in surrender. Peter Pan was cut free from the net and was happily reunited with Tinker Bell. Not-So-Jolly Joan burst into tears and blew her nose in Peg-Leg Peggy’s shoulder.

  “What’s wrong, Joan?” Peg-Leg Peggy asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” Not-So-Jolly Joan sniffled. “I just love a happy ending.”

  The Ziblings’ jet zipped through the sky above New York City, but no matter how inconsistently they piloted the aircraft, the superheroes couldn’t lose the flying monkeys trailing them. Blubo joined the swarm of winged creatures as they soared after the jet, but not because he was under the Wicked Witch’s spell. The little monkey was looking for his family and spotted his parents at the front of the flock.

  “Mom! Dad! It’s me—it’s Blubo!” he shouted.

  “Blubo!” his mother cried. “What are you doing here?”

  “You were supposed to stay at the witch’s castle in Oz!” his father said.

  Despite the concerned expressions on their faces, Blubo’s parents never slowed down to greet their son or even turned to see him. Like all the other monkeys, they kept their eyes fixed on the Ziblings’ jet.

  “I met some friends who are going to stop the Wicked Witch!” Blubo told them. “Those superheroes are with us—they’re good guys! You’ve got to stop chasing them before someone gets hurt!”

  “I wish we could, son,” his father said. “As long as the Wicked Witch is wearing the golden cap, the monkeys are under her control.”

  “I know, but can’t you fight the spell?” Blubo asked.

  “We’ve tried, sweetheart, but it’s no use,” his mother said. “The Wicked Witch’s magic is too powerful. You should get out of here and enjoy your life while you still can. Once you get older, you’ll be under the witch’s control, too.”

  Despite his parents’ advice, Blubo wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The little monkey left the flock and glided toward the city on a daring mission to save himself, his parents, and his species.

  Eventually, the flying monkeys caught up with the Ziblings’ jet. The creatures landed on the aircraft’s wings and began ripping it apart panel by panel. A loud alarm sounded inside the cockpit to warn the passengers.

  “That’s not good,” Professor Wallet said. “Those chimps are going to make us crash if we don’t intervene!”

  “Don’t worry, Dad, we’ll take care of it!” Bolt said. “You stay inside and steer; we’ll go outside and save the jet before this flight goes bananas. Get it? Because they’re monkeys.”

  Blaze, Whipney, and Morph sighed at their little brother’s joke.

  “You’ve really got to work on those one-liners, Bolt,” Whipney said.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of crucial if you want to be remembered,” Blaze said.

  “But more importantly merchandized,” Morph said.

  The Ziblings crawled out of a hatch at the top of the cockpit to handle the flying monkeys outside. The aircraft was speeding at hundreds of miles per hour, and Blaze, Whipney, Morph, and Bolt had to hold on tightly to the edge of the wings so they didn’t fly off.

  Blaze hit the flying monkeys with fiery blasts from the tips of his fingers. Whipney whipped the winged creatures off the jet with her long braids of hair. Morph transformed into a giant octopus and knocked the monkeys off the aircraft with his enormous limbs. Bolt zapped the monkeys with bursts of electricity, but since they were all clinging to a metal object, every time he missed, he accidentally electrocuted his brothers and sister.

  “BOLT!” they yelled in unison.

  “Sorry—my bad!” he apologized.

  Soon there were so many flying monkeys covering the jet, the aircraft looked like a large black bird flying through the air. One of the monkeys ripped off a panel and found a bundle of wires underneath it. The monkey sliced the wires with its teeth, and the jet’s engines stopped working. The Ziblings’ jet suddenly dropped from the sky and plunged toward the streets below.

  “Hold on tight, children!” Professor Wallet’s voice called from the speakers. “It’s going to be a bumpy landing!”

  Their mission complete, the flying monkeys abandoned the wings of the jet. Morph transformed into a giant parachute to ease the approaching impact, but the jet was too heavy. The Ziblings’ jet smashed through the roof of a Broadway theater and nose-dived into the orchestra pit. The rough landing knocked the wind out of the superheroes, and they slid down the aircraft and rolled onto the theater’s stage. Professor Wallet crawled out from a mountain of airbags and rested beside his children.

  Bolt looked around the theater as he caught his breath. “It could have been worse,” he said. “We could have landed Off-Broadway.”

  The smallest superhero snickered at his own joke, and to his surprise, his brothers and sister laughed, too.

  “Much better,” Blaze said.

  “Now, that’s a good line,” Morph agreed.

  “See, it just takes practice,” Whipney said.

  Suddenly, high-pitched screeching echoed inside the theater. The Ziblings looked through the fresh hole in the roof and saw that the flying monkeys were headed toward the theater—they weren’t finished with the superheroes yet. The other Ziblings were still catching their breath, so Bolt leaped to his feet and flew toward the ceiling.

  “I’ll be right back,” Bolt said. “I’ve got some monkey business to take care of!”

  His brothers and sister groaned.

  “Annnnnd you lost me,” Blaze said.

  “Less is more,” Morph said.

  “Should have stopped at Off-Broadway,” Whipney said.

  Bolt rocketed out of the theater and soared right past the flying monkeys. Just the way a bird protects her nest from a predator, the distraction worked, and the monkeys followed Bolt instead.

  The superhero flew east and spotted the Chrysler Building in the distance. The s
parkling skyscraper gave Bolt an idea. He landed at the very tip of the building’s sharp spire, and the winged creatures landed below him. The monkeys charged up the sides of the building toward the little superhero, intending to tear him apart like the Ziblings’ jet.

  Bolt waited until all the flying monkeys were on the Chrysler Building’s metal-coated roof; then he looked up at the clouds and summoned a powerful bolt of lightning from the sky. The lightning hit the spire and sent a wave of electricity through the building. The extreme voltage made every lightbulb burst, every window shatter, and it electrocuted all the flying monkeys. The winged creatures were zapped so hard they looked like balls of fur with wings. The monkeys fluttered to the ground and passed out as soon as they hit the street.

  “Well, that’ll put a monkey wrench in their day!” Bolt chuckled.

  The little superhero was so proud of himself for defeating the flying monkeys, he didn’t even need his siblings to approve his one-liner. He threw his head back and laughed until his belly hurt.

  The Winkies and the Wicked Witch followed Robin Hood and the Merry Men up Broadway to Lincoln Center. The center was home to five large theaters that sat around a spacious courtyard with a large fountain in the center. Robin Hood and the Merry Men sprinted up the steps of the courtyard, and although there were plenty of places to run, they stopped at the edge of the fountain. The Winkies quickly filled the courtyard and surrounded the Merry Men with their weapons raised.

  “You morons give up so easily,” the Wicked Witch remarked.

  “DO YOU HEAR THAT SHRILL SOUND, MERRY MEN?” Robin Hood asked. “THE WITCH’S VOICE IS EVEN UGLIER THAN HER FACE, AND I DIDN’T THINK THAT WAS POSSIBLE.”

  “Silence!” the Wicked Witch commanded.

  “I MEAN, LOOK AT HER,” Robin continued. “THE WITCH IS SO UGLY, WHEN SHE WAS BORN, THE DOCTOR PROBABLY SLAPPED HER TWICE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T KNOW WHICH END WAS WHICH.”

  “All right, that’s enough—”

  “THE WITCH IS SO UGLY, SHE WENT TO A FUNERAL AND THE CORPSE GOT UP AND RAN AWAY!”

  “If you don’t shut up, I’ll—”

  “THE WITCH IS SO UGLY, SHE WAS VOTED THE NATIONAL ANIMAL OF SCOTLAND!”

  The Wicked Witch tapped her umbrella on the ground, and a dirty sock appeared in Robin Hood’s mouth.

  “I’m going to enjoy watching you die!” the witch declared. “Winkies, kill this pompous man and his imbecile followers! And do it slowly….”

  The Winkies lunged toward Robin Hood and his Merry Men, but before they could strike the Prince of Thieves, they were distracted by a large object overhead. The Charlie Chaplin rose over Lincoln Center like an inflatable sun. Beau Rogers stood in the doorway of the blimp’s gondola wearing the Lost Talisman of Pharaoh Eczema around his neck.

  “You aren’t the only one who’s into mind control, milady,” Beau Rogers announced. “Allow me to introduce you to my batch of brainwashed warriors!”

  All the mummies from the Pyramid of Anesthesia crept out from behind the structures of Lincoln Center and surrounded the Wicked Witch and her Winkies.

  “My soldiers have already met their maker—now it’s your turn!” Beau said.

  “Nice quip, kid!” Emgee called from the blimp’s steering wheel.

  “Thanks, Aunt Emgee,” he said. “Mummies, attack!”

  The undead soldiers approached the Winkies at a leisurely pace—which was as fast as the mummies could move. Unfortunately for Beau and the Merry Men, their surprise assault didn’t go as well as they’d hoped. The Winkies were exceptional fighters and tore through the mummies like they were made of cotton. Within a few minutes, the Winkies had defeated the mummies and trapped Robin Hood and the Merry Men again.

  The Wicked Witch let out a deafening cackle. “Any last words?” she asked.

  “WELL, MERRY MEN, IT LOOKS LIKE THIS IS THE END,” Robin Hood declared. “I NEVER THOUGHT WE’D PERISH AT THE HANDS OF SOLDIERS WITH SUCH RIDICULOUS NAMES AND MORE FLAMBOYANT CLOTHING THAN OUR OWN. NONETHELESS, IT’S BEEN AN HONOR TO TRAVEL THE UNIVERSE AT YOUR SIDE!”

  “Um… Robin?” Alan-a-Dale whispered. “You’re forgetting the next part of our plan.”

  “OH YEAH,” Robin Hood said. “THANK YOU, MY FAITHFUL MINSTREL. WE WOULD HAVE MET OUR DEMISE HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR YOUR STEEL TRAP OF A MEMORY. MOVING ON—LOST BOYS, YOUR TIME HAS COME!”

  Suddenly, the Lost Boys from Neverland appeared on the rooftops of the Lincoln Center theaters and pelted the Wicked Witch with water balloons.

  “Take that, you mean old hag!” Tootles said.

  “Adults like you are the reason we don’t want to grow up!” Curly said.

  “Go back to the nightmare you came out of!” Nibs said.

  “Leave our friends alone!” the Lost twins said.

  Although Slightly had been a baby since the Lost Boys visited Morina’s cottage, he still did his part and squirted the witch with his bottle. Soon the Wicked Witch was drenched, and she began to smoke and sizzle as the liquid melted her body. Just as it had happened with Captain Hook, instead of bodily fluids, the witch dissolved into words. All the prose L. Frank Baum used to describe the Wicked Witch in his books now dripped from the witch’s body.

  “You horrid little brats!” the Wicked Witch screamed in pain. “You’ll pay for this one day! You may have stopped me in the Otherworld, but I’ll get my revenge in the Underworld!”

  The witch staggered across the Lincoln Center courtyard, leaving puddles of words as she went. She tripped and fell headfirst into the fountain and disintegrated completely. Friar Tuck knelt beside the fountain and said a prayer for the salvation of her soul.

  Now that the Wicked Witch of the West was dead, her vicious spell over the Winkies was lifted. They dropped their weapons and pranced around the courtyard in celebration. Alan-a-Dale strummed a happy tune so that they had something to dance to.

  “WHAT’S GOING ON?” Robin Hood asked. “WHY ARE THE WINKIES SKIPPING AROUND LIKE THEY’RE INTOXICATED?”

  “Robin, they’ve been freed!” Beau Rogers called down to him. “The witch has been controlling them for years!”

  “YOU MEAN, THE WITCH FORCED YOU TO WEAR THOSE OBNOXIOUS OUTFITS AND ANSWER TO THAT DEGRADING NAME?”

  “No, we had those before the witch’s spell,” a Winkie said.

  Robin was greatly disturbed to hear it. “MIGHT THERE BE ANOTHER WITCH INVOLVED?” he asked.

  Suddenly, Blubo swooped down from the sky and landed on the edge of the fountain. He dived in and searched through the Wicked Witch’s watery remains. The others were curious about what the monkey was doing and gathered around the fountain to watch him.

  “I found it!” he announced.

  Blubo resurfaced with the Wicked Witch’s golden cap in his hands. He threw it on the ground and then smashed it with one of the Winkies’ spears until it broke into hundreds of pieces.

  “There!” Blubo said with a satisfied smile. “From this moment forward, no one will ever control the flying monkeys again!”

  The Winkies cheered for the monkeys’ newfound freedom. Although the Merry Men, the Lost Boys, and the archaeologists had no idea what Blubo was talking about, they joined the characters from Oz as they danced around Lincoln Center in celebration.

  “SUCH A STRANGE PLACE, THIS OZ,” Robin Hood declared. “IT’S NOT EVERY DAY YOU CONVERSE WITH WITCHES, MONKEYS, AND WINKIES. ACTUALLY, IT REMINDS ME OF A WEEKEND I HAD IN FRANCE.”

  The card soldiers and the Queen of Hearts followed the Tin Woodman from Midtown all the way to Washington Square Park in Lower Manhattan. The park was famous for the towering arch that stood at its north entrance. The Tin Woodman hurried through the arch, expecting to see the park filled with the Cyborgs from “Galaxy Queen,” but the Cyborgs were late.

  “Oh dear,” the Tin Woodman said.

  The card soldiers caught up with the Tin Woodman and formed a circle around him. They pointed the sharp ends of their staffs at the metal man, and he dropped his axe. The Queen of Hearts sauntered
into the circle and strutted around the Tin Woodman, eyeing him like he was a delicious treat.

  “Hold him down,” she ordered with a devilish smile. “I want to cut off his head myself!”

  The soldiers grabbed the Tin Woodman by the arms, kicked his legs out from underneath him, and forced him into a kneeling position. The Queen of Hearts picked up his axe and practiced swinging it.

  “So you’re the one they call the Queen of Hearts?” the Tin Woodman asked.

  “That’s correct,” the queen said.

  “But I don’t understand,” he said. “You invade other people’s homes and claim them as your own. You cut off people’s heads for sport. How can you be the Queen of Hearts when you act so heartless?”

  “Is your head hollow?” the queen asked with a snort. “Every creature in existence has a heart—it’s just a muscle that pumps blood through the rest of your body. What you’re talking about is compassion—it’s much rarer and a total waste of time, if you ask me.”

  The Tin Woodman’s eyes darted back and forth as he tried to make sense of it all.

  “So, what I’ve been searching for this whole time, I’ve actually had inside me all along?” he asked. His jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide as he made the greatest discovery of his life.

  The Queen of Hearts shared a confused glance with her card soldiers—was the man she was about to decapitate asking her about life lessons?

  “I’m told that that is a conclusion most people come to before the end of their life,” she said. “Lucky for you, you’ve reached it just in time. Now hold your head steady—this is going to hurt.”