After We're Done Talking About the Wicked Witch

Well, now that she’s gone, can we please get back to the matter at hand?

I know that was a fun bit of excitement, but we were trying to have a meeting before that house landed. The next thing you know, we have a dead witch, and a girl from Kansas, and another witch, and now half the day is gone. More than half the day. Two thirds of the day is completely gone, and we still haven’t decided whether or not we’re going to build a new courthouse.

Oh, I can hear you now.

Millicent P. Freybopper, there are bigger things to worry about than a courthouse in Munchkinland!

And to that I would say--

Are there?

I have seen this time and again. We try to come up with practical, real-Oz solutions to make this place better, and then, all of a sudden, monkeys are flying by or a man turns to tin, and everybody wants to use it as an excuse to have a long weekend. Meanwhile, we have not had a proper courthouse in over thirty years. I am sick and tired of showing up to pay my parking tickets in the middle of a giant tulip. Now, if the Mayor wants to stop having the Guild give out so many parking tickets, in between sucking on their lolli’s, then I’ll be more than happy to forget that we need better infrastructure in this town, seeing as how it won’t matter to me if I don’t have to pay for any infractions since, as you all know, my record is as clean as a clock stuck to the front of a brass man. It’s only the tickets that keep getting me sent to the tulip, and as long as I have to show up with my dubloons every week, I insist on doing it somewhere official. It’s insulting to have to balance myself on those petals and get hushed every time I raise my voice in anger because I might wake up the Lullaby League.

This entire place is precious--and I do not mean that as a compliment.

Places are not meant to be precious. We are a village, and if we want to graduate to a town, we need better facilities. Everything here is much too small. The schoolhouse, the athletic center, even the day spa. It’s all far too inferior for the land in Oz with the most potential. Of course, the office of the parking attendant is perhaps the most modern building in town. No surprise there. They’re the Kings of Munchkinland, those attendants. Say one word against them, and you’ll be sent to see the Wizard.

Well, I’m done living in fear!

That’s why I have decided that I am going to run for Mayor of Munchkinland. Effective immediately, I am throwing my hat into the ring for the election in...fourteen years. I would also like to discuss why our mayoral terms are so long. Granted, if I win, I might change my mind about that, but if I do not win, I would certainly like to discuss it and change it, or amend it--

I better start using political-speak now that I’m going to be a politician.

We have to do something about how comfortable all the witches feel just dropping in here whenever they feel like it. And girls from Kansas too, although admittedly, that doesn’t happen as often. We should have some sort of, I don’t know, moat around the town. That way, if someone wants to come visit, they have to ask us, and then we can, I don’t know, let down some sort of bridge, and--

Oh! It can be a yellow brick bridge! Can you make a bridge out of brick? I say we form an exploratory committee and find out. We have to recognize the fact that we, as munchkins, are much more susceptible to threats from the outside world. I’m talking about lions. I’m talking about tigers. I’m talking about bears. Security should be our top priority around here. Security and parking tickets. I say “Abolish the tickets!” Unless the parking tickets are what we would use to pay for the yellow brick bridge, in which case, we can abolish them after we build the bridge, but I’ll need to be given a special, mayoral parking spot so that I don’t get them anymore, because I’ll have many responsibilities and I can’t be expected to report to the courthouse--

The new courthouse!

The new courthouse that we’ll pay for with the proceeds from the tolls we’ll collect from people who want to go over the bridge. You see? I’m an idea munchkin! You’ve already got yourself a bridge, a courthouse, and did I mention the new haberdashery I want to put where that house landed? We just need to clear out the house first. Or maybe we can turn the house into a haberdashery. I’m all about repurposing. That’s going to be my political slogan--

Millicent P. Freybopper--Let’s Sell Some Hats on Top of This Dead Witch!

Obviously, out of context, that might sound a little strange, but I’ll be giving many speeches to explain all of my various platforms, and I’ll be giving those speeches on the most wonderful platforms, all over Munchkinland. I’ll admit I’m not a fan of the platform by the parking attendant office, so I’ll probably skip that one, but none of the others. Consider Millicent on tour from this point on!

And I’m not going to stop with Munchkinland--Oh no!

Once I’m done making this the best land in Oz, I’m going to run for Wizard. I don’t know if Wizard is a position one can run for, but if it is, I’m going to run for it and win. And if it’s not, I’m going to complain until it becomes a position someone can run for, and then I’ll--

Well, if you’re all going to walk away from me, I don’t know how we can expect to plan an election, let alone overturn the rule about fourteen-year mayoral terms.

Democracy begins in the moment, you know.

Oh, that’s a good slogan.

That might be my new slogan.

Does anybody have a pen?

Anyone?

Anyone?