The Immortal Gazette Presents: The Sneaky Witch of the North - The Truth Behind Dorothy’s Oz Adventure
As the fire crackled in the background of the cozy, dimly-lit Immortal Gazette studio, a few scattered figures sat, quietly sipping their drinks. The familiar faces of Alice, Loki, and Rumplestiltskin leaned in, preparing for another one of their mischievous discussions.
"Gather round, mortals," Alice began, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Tonight's tale is one that’s as familiar as the taste of blood—or, perhaps more fittingly, as familiar as the pop of a bubble. It’s the real story of Dorothy’s trip to Oz. Oh, yes. There’s more to Glinda than the sparkly, floaty nonsense you've heard. You know, the so-called ‘Good Witch’ of the North? Well, darling, let’s break it down." She motioned dramatically as she leaned into the table, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
"Let me set the scene, then. So, Dorothy crash-lands into Oz. Not in some polite little way, mind you, but with a crash—literally squashing the Wicked Witch of the East under the full force of her house. Like, boom. That’s one way to make an entrance, if you ask me." Alice’s smirk was devilish.
Loki raised a brow. "Hmm. Not exactly my preferred method of housewarming, but I can’t deny—there’s a certain... dramatic flair to it."
Alice waved her hand. "Anyway, instead of offering the poor girl a ride home, what does Glinda do? Oh, she hands Dorothy slippers and says, ‘Good luck, darling. Follow the yellow brick road. Have fun dodging homicidal witches and flying monkeys along the way!’ Yeah, that’s really helpful advice."
Loki chuckled darkly. "Ah, yes, the 'good' witch—so good at watching people suffer, yet never quite stepping in to help. Perhaps she’s saving up her magic for a more dramatic moment." He threw a knowing look toward Alice.
Alice gave a mock gasp. "Oh, please. You think that's bad? Just wait. Dorothy goes on this long journey, facing monsters and emotional baggage—and Glinda pops up at the very end to casually say, ‘Oh, by the way, you’ve had the power to go home this whole time. You just needed to click your heels and believe in yourself.’ Excuse me?! What?! If I were Dorothy, I’d be ready to throw those slippers right at Glinda’s sparkly head! You've got to be kidding me."
Rumplestiltskin, who had been silently watching with a smirk, leaned forward. "You know, I’ve always thought Glinda had a bit of a... sneaky streak. I mean, just look at that timing. Where was she when the Wicked Witch of the West was setting fire to the landscape, huh? Oh no, she shows up with her perfect gown when everything’s calm, offering her useless wisdom like a well-timed punchline."
Alice’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "That’s right. She didn't offer a single bit of guidance when Dorothy was getting chased by flying monkeys, fighting witches, or stuck with a tin man who hadn’t seen an oil can in decades. But no, at the end of the road, that’s when Glinda decides to drop the bombshell."
Loki cracked his knuckles, clearly warming up. "And her excuse, my dear? ‘You had to learn it for yourself.’ Oh, please! I’ve heard some ridiculous justifications in my time, but that one is a real gem. Dorothy didn’t need a life lesson, Glinda. She needed a sandwich and a nap—and someone to actually help her get out of the fire before you popped up all high and mighty!"
Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "I’ve met my fair share of meddling sorcerers, but Glinda? She’s next level. It’s like—" He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Imagine watching someone struggle to build IKEA furniture for hours and then, just as they’re about to cry in frustration, you casually mention, ‘Oh, by the way, the instructions were in the box the whole time.’” He paused dramatically. “That’s Glinda. Pure passive-aggressive witchery."
Alice leaned back, eyes narrowing mischievously. "And what’s the real kicker? That’s the moral of the story, apparently. You need to figure it out yourself—because that's how life works, right? No, Glinda, honey, that’s how being a jerk works."
Loki gave a satisfied smirk. "And all this time, we were all supposed to believe she was the ‘Good Witch’ of the North. Good, indeed." He sipped from his goblet. "She’s more like the ‘Passive-Aggressive Witch’ of the North."
Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. "And let’s not forget the kicker, Dorothy. You should’ve gotten the manual yourself, huh? Next time someone floats down in a bubble and offers you some over-sweetened advice, maybe don’t take it at face value. After all, I know a thing or two about tricksters and... ill-timed wisdom."
Alice’s voice dropped, playful yet dark. "Glinda might have her sparkly tiara and her bubble of innocence, but don’t be fooled, darling. That is one sneaky witch. Now, Dorothy... let’s hope she learned something before Glinda dropped her truth bomb. Because next time? Well... maybe Glinda won't be there at all." She grinned.
Loki raised a glass, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bottom line? If you ever end up in Oz and meet Glinda? Don’t trust her. She might just be watching you struggle for fun, and the only thing you’re getting out of that little chat is a ‘click your heels and believe in yourself’ message, after everything's said and done. Fantastic advice... really."
Rumplestiltskin gave a sly smile. "Oh, and by the way, Dorothy, next time a sparkly witch floats down and tells you how to get home, don’t listen until she offers you a ride first."
Alice stood, brushing off her gown. "And that's the story of Glinda—the one who didn't help when she could have, but definitely showed up to take credit at the end. So remember, darlings—don’t take advice from a floating fairy-goddess unless you’re sure it’s not the kind of advice that leaves you stranded in the middle of nowhere."
Loki clapped his hands in mock applause. "Bravo, Glinda. Bravo."
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