Shadows of the Emerald City (17 page)

Bosky Boq was a famous wrestler. He’d been champion wrestler of the Munchkins for as long as anyone could remember, since the days of the witches. He still had, in his backroom where he kept such things, a silver rod set with sapphires awarded to him by the Witch of the East for his first championship. He seldom displayed any of his trophies for in truth he had very few friends, but in his heart he valued that one the most, not the least because it had come from one of the feared wicked witches.

Like those witches, Boq was not well liked but was well respected and feared. He was a true Munchkin from Munchkin City and so only about half as tall as most Ozites, but what he lacked in height he made up for in lean hard muscle. Broad shouldered, barrel chested with legs like stumps and a neck fully as thick as his thigh, he’d spent his lifetime taking on bigger, or at least taller, opponents without suffering more than a handful of defeats over a very long career.

He reasoned that his skill and experience at wrestling ought to stand him in good stead against a giant. While he was too small, or at any rate the giant was too large, for Boq to exert much leverage against his arms or legs, he might be able to work something against the fingers of his hands. Footwork was going to be a problem though. He’d even consulted with a copy of his friend Col. Wyndel Wynkaisser’s “How to fight like a Winkie” for ideas on that.

Winkies were indeed the most ferocious fighters of all the Ozites, but no Winkie had ever matched him at wrestling, which was why Wyndel had asked him for his input on the chapters on wrestling and ground work. He’d been proud to be asked and gladly contributed, for while no Winkie could out wrestle him he’d decided long ago to stay out of any contest conducted under Winkie rules. A low center of gravity and superior leverage were scarcely enough to counter all the punching, kicking, stomping, chopping and gouging dished out in Winkie fighting. After all, he was a wrestler.

He was working on a few ideas he had in the big, open yard behind his house. Let his neighbors cower in their cellars and wait for help from Emerald City. Boq believed in solving his own problems and thought Munchkins as a whole should do the same.

Practice had always been a key element in his success. What he was practicing now was a sort of twisty, low spread jump designed to move him out of the giant’s grasp while positioning him to get behind a descending hand and maybe let him get a grip. It was harder than he’d thought it would be, with all the squatting and turning, and Boq had to concentrate very hard to avoid tripping his own self up. He was much surprised when, in the middle of a twisting leap, he ran smack into something very large and very hard right in the middle of his yard, and fell backwards on to his bum.

He stared stupidly for a second at what he thought was a big, hairy tree someone had planted in his yard while he wasn’t looking. His eyes and his mind both regained focus then and he tilted his head back farther to stare into the swarthy, grinning face of Mr. Yoop.

“
In the pot are pork and veal,” the giant said. “I want your beef to fill my meal!” The giant made a snatch for Bosky Boq, but the wrestler was ready for him. As the giant’s hand shot down the wrestler leaped up and twisted. Mr. Yoop’s hand closed on air, except for his little finger which Boq had bent backward. The wrestler twisted the finger further and pushed it down into the ground and the giant over balanced and planted his weight on his empty fist.

“
Ha!” Boq cried in triumph.

“
Grrr!” Mr. Yoop growled deeply as he swung around with his other hand. Boq saw it coming but he hadn’t quite worked out what to do about the giant’s other hand, and before anything occurred to him Mr. Yoop had snatched him up. The giant sprang to his feet and held Boq high in the air and shook him fiercely. Just when the wrestler thought his eyes would pop out Mr. Yoop flung him on the ground very hard.

Boq’s backyard was covered with a thick, springy turf over hard earth, and Boq landed face first so hard he left an impression on the dirt beneath the grass. He didn’t move. The giant grinned as he peeled him up and carried him off.

The dove flew straight through the open window at the back of the throne room and began to circle wearily around the small girl seated on the throne, cooing distress. The girl, who was not really a girl but was, in fact, Ozma, a powerful fairy and queen of the Lands of Oz, held up a finger for the bird to land on. It did and immediately began cooing out its message.

The girl Queen allowed no distress to show on her angelic face, but rose at once, placed the dove on the arm of her throne and motioned to her Royal Chamberlain.

“
Have Princess Dorothy meet me at my magic picture,” She commanded.

The Chamberlain bustled off to find Dorothy, and Ozma left right behind him.

“
There was no point to your going off to Emerald City,” Nemi Omsbi said. “Queen Ozma is perfectly capable of keeping track of what’s going on without your help. Glinda will have read about Mr. Yoop’s escape in her magic book and sent word to the Queen by magic or messenger bird. For that matter
you
could have sent a bird. It’s much faster than a goat cart.”

King Gob Ghab spat a mouthful of broth at the goose-girls head.

“
Maybe so, but I didn’t think of it.”

“
No,” the girl agreed. “All you thought of was how much safer it’d be in Emerald City with a giant wandering around Munchkin Land! Get your face off my bosoms.”

“
How?” the King asked. The giant had left the lid only slightly ajar, to allow the broth to cook down a little, and the King could barely see, especially with the pepper still burning in his eyes. The spicing didn’t seem to bother the girl’s eyes. She saw every transgression.

“
Just open your mouth—let it fill up—and spit it out in a stream. Like this …” The girl opened her mouth to demonstrate, bringing her face to face with a favorite part of Gob’s anatomy, which caught the brunt of her spray as she propelled her head across the cauldron.

“
Hey, watch that!” Gob objected. He didn’t like the silly way it looked flapping around at the end of hiss torso, with no legs to keep it in place.

“
Ha!” Nemi laughed. “I’ll bet you wish I’d gotten closer.”

“
Not at all,” said Gob. “It’s the Queen’s favorite part of me. Sometimes I think it’s the only part she really likes.”

“
If we get out of this I’ll have to have a talk with her Majesty.” Nemi spat a little broth to turn her face toward Gob’s. “About her standards.”

“
It’s not exactly displayed to best effect in here.” Snapped Gob.

“
Quiet,” the girl replied. “Mr. Yoop is coming back.”

“
I think he knows we’re in here.” Gob quieted down anyway. They could hear the giant bustling about the table. This went on for some time. Suddenly there was a shriek, followed by a long string of the foulest swearing either of them had ever heard, and then the giant removed the lid, releasing a cloud of steam. He leered down at them over the rim.

“
This one put up quite a fight, but I know how to cook him right.” He held up his latest victim’s head. Gob’s crown was crammed, points down, over his bulging forehead. Unfortunately it didn’t cover his mouth.

“
…
motherless, dog-dicked arse-lipping nome-knocker! You tree fucking, pig-pimping, turd-faced—
,” the giant dropped the head into the pot where, thanks to the crown, it sank right to the bottom and stayed.

“
Now that I have dealt with that, its time for a little snack.” Mr. Yoop poked his massive finger into Nemi’s face, not put off a bit by her attempt to bite him. He didn’t seem to like what he felt. “Heads take longer for to cook, I’ll just settle for a foot.”

Fish out a foot he did, and a leg and a thigh and bum to go with it. All of them belonging to Nemi Omsbi.

“
Ohh! That curd-spoiling, silage slurping vat of monkey-shit!” She exclaimed. “I wish he hadn’t sunk that other head. That fellow sounded like he could really swear. Right now I’d take lessons.”

“
You were doing just fine,” Gob assured her.

“
Do you really think so?” Nemi asked. “I’ve never sworn before.”

“
Perhaps you should save the next batch for when old Yoop shows his face over the side again.”

Just then the giant reappeared, fork in one hand and cleaver in the other. Nemi Omsbi didn’t hesitate at all.

“
You goose-shit snorting, pond-scum gargling erb buggerer! Whimsey-brained Growlywog slut-slave! Self-fornicating, Kalidah baiting—yeagh!—
” Mr. Yoop poked Nemi in her left eye with the fork. It popped like a half-poached egg and her head sank under the broth. The giant grinned and said,

“
The maiden’s bum was juicy sweet! Let’s see how you are to eat.” His fork jutted down at Gob’s torso, clear across the cauldron from his head. “A tiny bite of you I’ll try, and then I’ll eat her other thigh.” He speared Gob’s penis and nicked it off with the tip of the cleaver. Quick as that he was grinding it with he molars like a tough piece of gristle.

“
Oh, the Queen won’t be pleased with that.”

As Mr. Yoop speared Nemi’s other thigh her head resurfaced, missing an eye and most of the surrounding cheek.

“
.
. . son-of-a-wogglebug.
Put that back, you circus geek!”

The giant withdrew.

“
Watch out!” Gob warned her, without stopping to wonder just how a half-cooked floating head would go about doing that. It began raining pieces of the other Munchkin. He was a bulky cusser; the huge pot was growing full.

“
Too much time you take to stew,” the giant said as he lifted the lid back into position. “I’ll add some wood to boil you.” He placed the lid firmly over the cauldron with a clang. Gob could barely hear him moving about, but he definitely felt it when the giant built up the fire.

“
Shit,” he said aloud, “we really are doomed.”

“
I wish I could hear what they are saying,” Princess Dorothy said.

“
The situation is clearly worse than I’d hoped,” Ozma replied. “Mr. Yoop has already seized several of my subjects and is cooking them.”

Dorothy twirled a blonde ringlet for a moment, thinking.

“
Send for the
Nome King’s Belt
, Ozma! You can use it to turn old Yoop into a stone and we can send someone round to fish those Munchkins out of the soup.”

The Fairy Queen sighed.

“
No, Dorothy. We can not just solve the problem from here with magic. If we did that, the people would soon come to rely on us to protect them always. They might grow so confident in us as to fail to take responsibility for their own safety. Why, if they did that the Munchkins would still be going about their business instead of sensibly huddling in their cellars in fear, waiting rescue. It’s not enough to protect the people of my realm,” the Girl Queen explained. “We must be seen to protect them. I’ll send a party to deal with Mr. Yoop.”

“
Ugh!” Dorothy had just watched Mr. Yoop eat Nemi Omsbi’s butt. “Too late for that girl’s ass. Let me go, Ozma. Please. If I wear my magic belt, Mr. Yoop won’t be able to harm me. Let me deal with him.”

The fairy smiled at her oldest, dearest friend.

“
No, sweet one. Mr. Yoop is a crafty old cannibal, and if you go there is a chance, however small, that the wicked giant could get you out of your belt. If that happened, you might end up in his pot, and he might end up on my throne.”

“
He wouldn’t fit,” the farm girl replied.

“
Perhaps not,” Ozma agreed. “We won’t chance it, though. I’ll send a party of people he can’t eat to deal with him. Who among my not-meat subjects is at court?”

“
Hmmm, lets see.” Dorothy pulled a scroll from the pocket of her smock. She’d been Ozma’s intelligence secretary for decades now. “Scraps and Scarecrow are still at the corn palace, and haven’t been back for months.
Haven’t left his crib for months
, that anybody’s noticed. Jack Pumpkinhead should be back soon, he always comes in between planting and harvest, but he’s not here yet. I don’t think he’d be right for the job anyway.” Ozma nodded her head in agreement. “Nick Chopper’s just come from the Winkie Country, and he brought the Tin Soldier with him. They’ve both had quite a polishing. The Glass Cat is around somewhere, of course … and the Sawhorse is in his stable, naturally.”

“
Yes, that’s enough.” Ozma tapped her perfect lips thoughtfully. “Nick Chopper knows that forest, he cut wood in it for years before he was tin. He can go, and the Soldier as well. The Glass Cat too, of course. She can scout, there’s no where in Oz she hasn’t been. They’d best take the sawhorse and the red wagon.” She looked at Dorothy, who was trying not to pout. “See to that, sweetling, while I get the wizard to prepare something for Mr. Yoop.”

“
Of course, Ozma dear.” Dorothy gave the magic picture another glance. “Ung! The Munchkin Queen won’t care for that!”

Just when Gob Ghab didn’t think things could get any worse his crown came loose from Bosky Boq’s head, which floated to the surface.

“
…
stinking result of a gang of Winkies and a Gillikin crone. Dung pated, oversized
—
”
”

“
Who are you? The King asked.

“
Huh?” the other head started. “I’m Bosky Boq, champion wrestler of Oz. Who the hell are you two?”