The Ebony Lizard by Tom Weaver

I missed being a part of one of the most famous adventures ever. This was due to the fact that I moved to the suburbs to get away from the noise and idiocy of the populated villages. Looking back, and witnessing how things eventually turned out, I'm glad I didn't go with those morons. I am the Ebony Lizard, I live in Oz, and I have no sympathy.

Munchkins! That shrill noise they call a voice hurts my ears. I heard them singing, sending off that tart and her dog. But by the time I arrived and finally got those assholes to stop singing long enough to inquire, Dorothy was hours ahead of me. I knew to follow the yellow brick road, but if I had attempted to catch up with Dorothy, those sons of bitches would have started singing again. I weighed my options, and knowing the inevitable Munchkin concert that would have surfaced, I decided against going. I wanted to see if the Wizard of Oz could give me the ability to sympathize. I get my fair share of women, but with a little sympathy, I would need a wagon for all of the ass I'd be pulling in. Sure, I was depressed after I missed my chance, but when the rest of Dorothy's entourage returned and spoke of their tales, I was certain that not going was a good choice.

The biggest reason I was glad not to have gone was the flying monkeys. You'd know what I mean if one of them ever flew above you and shat on you. It's like getting hit with a wet sock. And if you think that everyone turned out for the better, well, you are as wrong as flying monkey shit stinks.

The timid and once lovable Lion turned out to be a bully, picking fights with anyone who looked at him. The peaceful Munchkins are now in utter fear of that hairball. I couldn't care less, because when the Lion is around, they pipe down real good. He is a disgusting animal, though. Instead of going indoors, he lies down in the middle of the village circle and licks his balls like your pet dog.

Don't even get me started on the Scarecrow. He used to be somewhat cute, and I'll even go as far as to say that he was good company and quite fun. But now with all of his brains, he is a pompous know-it-all. All of his pontificating and soapbox-standing is really annoying. All he wants to do is show off how smart he is, giving lectures and correcting our grammar. I picked a bad time to quit smoking. If I still had my Zippo lighter, I'd throw it at him, and he'd turn to ash in a second. Or better yet, me and my boys would roll him up in some papers and smoke him.

The Tin Man ended up the most disturbing. I don't know what was in that heart the Wizard gave him, but it made him ultra-gay. He loves everything, wanting to do it with flowers, Munchkins, rocks, witches, you name it. He is polysexual, I guess. You can't even say hello to the guy without him raising his antennae, if you know what I mean. A big metal fruitcake wielding an axe is downright dangerous.

I'm glad that I never met Dorothy. First of all, she stole the shoes off of the dead witch and then later kills the witch's sister. I may not be sympathetic, but I don't consort with thieves and murderers. I found out that finally gaining a characteristic that you have been lacking your entire life doesn't make you a better person. What you don't have actually identifies you as much as the qualities you possess. I'll be happy to go through the rest of my life with only one-night stands and a cold, rude personality to offer the rest of the citizens of Oz. And if these cretins don't like who I am, they, along with the Wizard of Oz, can suck my ebony sack.