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The Wonderful Wizard of Reno...Part 4

Updated on November 13, 2012

The Romans Used to Vomit and Then Come Back for More...Crazy...

As this particular piece of literary ‘fatty meat’ is being offered in a multi part serving...Beginning this particular story here will, undoubtedly lead to heartburn and Indigestion. Who wants that?

My recommendation would be to start with salad and bread sticks. Clicking HERE will result in complimentary appetizers at the Start of the Story...

I hope you Enjoy!


When Midgets Build Widgets...Your Sentence will Rhyme...

We moved through the woods as a group and followed the two trails...

Toto and Applejacks followed the mysterious trail of puppy-chow, while Kelly, Alastar, and I followed the fragments of straw, sweat, and self-loathing which comprised the second trail. We are followed by Cowardly Lion, Tin man, and L. Frank Baum in a ragged formation.

Unbeknownst to us...our progress is being followed...

Meanwhile...back at her campaign headquarters...

Our progress was being monitored via crystal ball by The Wicked Witch of the West...Sharron Angle.

The fat was in the fire...

She was screaming obscenities into the crystal ball, sweating, fretting, and being a bitch. To use the vernacular of the street...she was bugging.

“I WANT TO GO TO CONGRESS!! I WANT TO GO TO CONGRESS!!” Screams the Nevada Tea Party favorite and, three times Congressional election loser, as she gnaws on her own toenails in a grotesque display of double jointed-ness.

The two men in the room with her, L. Ron Hubbard and Vladimir Putin, look on worriedly.

L. Ron Hubbard moves in and, in a process known as, ‘auditing’, begins talking Sharron down off the ledge.

“Free your reactive mind Sharron...” L. Ron Hubbard coos... “Free your reactive mind...”

Rumors had long circulated, in Nevadan political circles, regarding Angle’s relationship with the Church of Scientology. Angle consistently denies them; however, they are obviously true...why else would L. Ron Hubbard be in this story? He serves as her spiritual, political, and economic advisor.

Putin’s role is a bit more nebulous.

His efforts to reclaim the Presidency of Russia, after a four-year hiatus as Prime Minister, hit a snag recently when tens of thousands of Russians took to the streets in protest over his continued rule. Protestors were tired of his heavy-handedness amidst allegations of fraud by Putin’s United Russia Party in recent Parliamentary elections.

He has derisively dismissed the protestors as “Internet Hamsters” and “Bander Logs” (the chattering Monkeys of Rudyard Kipling’s, Jungle Book), while, likening their white-ribbons of solidarity to condoms.

Still...he was worried...His resume was in his pocket.

A (September 2009) report, from the Committee to Protect Journalists, warned that Russia, with over three hundred murdered correspondents, was one of the deadliest countries in the world for reporters.

He hoped to become Angle’s new Press Secretary...

Sharron settles down and returns her gaze to the crystal ball while motioning Putin over...

“These are the bastards who are fucking with me!” She indicates our progress through the woods. Pointing to me, she asks...

“Can you kill him?”

“Is he a journalist?” Asks Putin.

“Yes. He is with the International (cough, cough) Herald.” Sharron quakes fearfully.

“Well then of course I can kill him...that is my right.” Putin announces, as if, I were already dead.

Far off in the distance...the Munchkins let loose with a ragged cheer...


Sharron was impressed.

“Then kill him and you can be my new Press Secretary.”

“I will need some help on the ground, muscle; I believe you Americans call it.”

Sharron Angle considers his request before saying, “Then you shall have it. Bristol!” She calls...


The Dwarf you say...?

The sound of tap shoes and angrily beating wings signals the approach of Bristol Palin and her brood of winged-illegitimate children. The flying monkeys (of this story) were confused and distracted. They missed their grandma (mom?) ...The Wicked Witch of the North...Sarah Palin...

Dozens of the little bastards (literally) settled in among a rustle of feathers, anger, angst, and issues. Bristol, unwilling to accept her loss, on Dancing with the wearing tap shoes along with a scowl. Her lower back hurts from carrying...yet another...winged-illegitimate child...

L. Ron Hubbard was on the phone busily finalizing details for something, he kept referring to, as ‘Operation Snow White’... campaign workers moved about watering plants while keeping a weather-eye open for representatives of the media. Over-watered plants die a little from root rot...

Sharron introduces Vladimir to Bristol. Bristol responds, by asking Vladimir...

“Would you like to have unprotected sex, plant your seed deep inside me, and then leave once the baby becomes obvious?”

Da.” Affirms Putin. They leave...

“Fucking slut.” Mutters the Wicked Witch of the West as she turns back to the crystal ball. She had wanted Putin for her own self. It was then that she saw Dorothy’s pretty, but bare, feet.

“THE SLIPPERS! WHERE ARE THEY??” She began screaming obscenities into the crystal ball, sweating, fretting, and being a bitch. To use the vernacular of the street...she was bugging.

L. Ron Hubbard hangs up the phone, comes over and, in a process known as, ‘auditing’, begins talking Sharron down off the ledge.

“Free your reactive mind Sharron...” L. Ron Hubbard coos... “Free your reactive mind...”

Sharron settles down and returns her gaze to the crystal ball while motioning L. Ron Hubbard and one of the winged-troglodytes over... After a brief consultation, a number of the illegitimate, winged-offspring take flight from campaign headquarters...

L. Ron Hubbard picks up the phone and initiates...Operation Freak-out...

The fat was in the fire...


“Midget porn is not really my thing...” Admits Dorothy...

We were hot on the trail of Scarecrow and the mysterious trail of puppy chow. Toto would periodically stop, sniff, and then eat each piece of puppy chow. Occasionally, to his delight, he would also find a peanut butter ball. Applejacks is too distracted to eat...she just follows the trail.

About twenty feet behind them were Creative Voice and Internal CD Player. Internal CD Player suddenly remembers something he wanted to say to Creative Voice...

“’re a fucking asshole.” Says the Tin man.

“Put ‘em Up, Put ‘em Up!!” Hollers The Cowardly Lion. “What’s your fucking problem?!”

Tin man stops and turns to face Cowardly Lion. L. Frank Baum struggles past them...gasping for breath, tripping over, all manners, of obstacles. The old guy was about done in.

“What’s MY fucking problem?” Asks the Tin man menacingly. “Would you prefer general or specific reasons?”

The Cowardly Lion considers his odds before requesting specific.

Don Quixote vs. Don Knotts?” Intones Tin man.

“Ohhhh...” The Cowardly Lion wishes he had gone general...

Tin man snarls at him derisively. “Ohhhh? That’s what you have to say? You took my batteries out bitch!”

“Right, right, right...that was wrong, wrong, wrong.” Admits the Cowardly Lion. “I am very, very, very sorry. Let’s go kill Scarecrow.”

“Sounds good.” Agrees Tin man.

Dorothy, Alastar, and I were following the detris of the human being that was Scarecrow. Straw, remnants of sweat-stained clothing attached to branches...the occasional rotted tooth were our road map.

Our search was frozen by a voice which asked...

“Are you looking for a, rather, haggard looking gentleman who might be looking for car-batteries to sell?” Asks the Sponge sitting on the rock opposite us.

It was just a normal sponge. Not like a celebrity Sponge Bob sponge or an interesting sea-type sponge or even, a birth-control sponge. A normal kitchen sponge. Green on one side...greener on the other. He looked new.

Spilled Milk...
Spilled Milk... | Source
Forks in the Road...
Forks in the Road... | Source
L. Frank Baum...
L. Frank Baum... | Source

Once again...I have to Say...Dwarf...

I rush over and ask him... “When did he come by? Did you see Ruby Slippers??”

Alastar and Kelly exchange hesitant looks before following me...

After denying knowledge of any ruby slippers, Sponge did recall seeing someone else pass by a few minutes after Scarecrow...deeper into the woods. Being a sponge, he was unable to move closer to investigate.

We explain our problem...

“I’m sponging what you are spilling. Commiserates Sponge.

“However, I would concentrate on this Scarecrow fellow you mentioned. He seemed to be quite determined. He headed towards that left fork in the trail over there.”

Sponge doesn’t indicate the fork because, again, he is a sponge. We take him at his word. He seemed to have the type of memory that soaked stuff up...

L. Frank Baum staggers up and collapses across the rock. He grasps Sponge in a tight grip and begins mopping his dripping brow.

Sponge is indignant...

“What the fuck old man!? Am I a mo-frack’n tube of toothpaste?? Lose the death grip!”

Alastar takes control of L. Frank Baum, Kelly pries Sponge from his grip, and I apologize for the group. Sponge has his bristly scrubbing side up. Understandable.

“Are you kidding me?” Complains Sponge. “That was hardly a sponge-worthy activity!”

As Kelly attempts to ‘delicately’ wring L. Frank Baum’s old-man-brow-sweat from Sponge...the rest of our group gathers around us.

“The puppy chow trail keeps heading into the woods.” Toto reports. He wisely keeps the knowledge of the occasional presence of peanut butter balls to himself. After the Blue-Berry Yum-Yum bud...we would have lost focus...

“L. Frank Baum isn’t going to make it.” Points out Tin man.

We agree to split up. Toto and Applejacks would continue to follow the trail of puppy mix. Dorothy, Cowardly Lion, Tin man, Alastar, and I would follow the left fork in the road towards Scarecrow. L. Frank Baum would stay with Sponge.

Sponge asks the only question that would concern a sponge in this type of situation...

“He’s not incontinent is he?”

Alastar, who is standing behind Sponge, indicates that he has no idea with an, uncomfortable, silent shrug of his shoulders...

“Noooo.” We all assure Sponge.

“His bladder is like a rock.” Affirms Kelly.

“As are his arteries!” Points out Tin man.

“No drip before it’s time,” Contributes Cowardly Lion with a defiant nod of his head, “That’s L. Frank Baum’s motto!!”

Sponge absorbs what we have to say before agreeing to babysit L. Frank Baum. Toto and Applejacks head out. The rest of us follow the left fork in the road...


Do Midgets use Salad Forks...?

“So, who left you?” Alastar asks the Fork that was left in the road.

“I honestly don’t remember.” Fork admits. “I do remember a picnic...”

“I have lost so many forks at picnics.” Kelly agrees solemnly.

We were moving through a dark part of the forest. Storm clouds blocked out what little light might have emerged past the tall trees. A brisk wind picks up...

“Hey?” I ask Kelly. “You’re not cold without shoes on, are you?”

“No. In fact, I was going to mention, you keep your stories at a very nice temperature.”

“I don’t care for the cold. I agree.

“I think a story should be kept at 78-degrees, generally.” I say, further expanding, on my theories regarding story-related temperatures...

“Humidity is the key.” Points out Alastar.

“Of course, that is SO true! A little oil is good!” Opines Tin man whose first thoughts tend towards thoughts of rust...

“You DO have nice feet Kelly. A little oil is good!” Says Creative Voice whose first thoughts tend towards thoughts of lust...

Loud voices ahead end our conversation and drive us forward...



The Scarecrow had gotten himself into a tight spot. While walking through the woods he had kept an eye open for cigarettes, ten dollars, or car batteries that might be sitting around.

He found apples...attached to apple trees...mean apple trees...

(Several readers get excited at the prospect of a scene they might vaguely recognize from the movie...)

Scarecrow is ensnared within the boughs of a tree while another tree throws apples at him...

The tree is raging at him. “YOU WANTED APPLES?? TAKE THEM!!” He throws three more apples...

(Smack. Smack. Smack.)

“Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.” Replies Scarecrow, dutifully.

We rush in and extricate Scarecrow while taking our fair share of apple-related hits. At the height of the battle, Fork is forced to double over and ram the holding tree, while Dorothy uses her, recently purchased Tazer, to nail the tree that was expertly whomping us with apples...

(Those same readers are largely disappointed, in themselves, for their misplaced optimism...)


I Saw a Dwarf with a Ladle Once...

Once we remove ourselves, beyond apple hurling distance, we confront Scarecrow...

Flick. Flick. Flick. Went the three lighters in Alastar’s, Kelly’s, and my hands.

“Where are my Ruby slippers, asshole?” Asks Kelly.

“Our doomed populist alliance between Eastern industrial workers and Western farmers (as illustrated by the roles of the Tin man and Scarecrow, respectively) is now over!” Tin man announces formally.

“Put ‘em Up! Put ‘em Up!”

“Let’s find ourselves a needle in that there haystack...” From Alastar...

“What the fuck, Tweaker?” I ask, disappointed.

Scarecrow adopts a put upon tweakers will do...

“Hey? I didn’t take your shoes! I was looking for a cigarette, ten dollars, or a car battery I could sell!” He wipes his runny nose on his shirt sleeve. His hands shake...

Taking a tweaker at his word is always an option. Not a very good one. We fall upon him, tearing at the hay encased within the ragged clothes. That’s where the slippers would be hidden. His head becomes detached and rolls a short distance away...

“EEW...” From Kelly...

“What?!?!” From the rest of us...

“He has three rotting teeth in his shirt pocket...?”

“Don’t judge me.” From the severed head...

No slippers. Just the normal accoutrements of a tweaker. Smelly clothes, mildewed hay, and three rotting teeth in a shirt pocket. No slippers.

What the fuck?

It made sense. If Scarecrow had the slippers he wouldn’t be gathering apples in Oz. He would be pawning the slippers in Reno. Who took the slippers? We gather to discuss this turn of events as Scarecrow begins gathering his composite parts...


A Midget Named Gidget...a Fish Named Hector...

“Where does this lead? Does it go to the Emerald City?” I ask Fork while indicating the road.

Fork chews on it for a bit.

“Yeah...this road will get you to Emerald City. Also, take you to Kansas and spots west I reckon. After about a mile up...there’s a dog’s leg in the road...that...”

His travelogue is interrupted...

“WHAT!?” Several of us call out...

Fork stutters to a stop...

“Where’s the rest of the dog??” An appalled Cowardly Lion inquires...

“I honestly don’t remember.” Fork admits. “I do remember a picnic...”

“I have lost so many dogs at picnics.” Kelly agrees solemnly.

“I don’t want to go that way!” Tin man complains.

I consider our options before asking Fork if he knew of an alternate route that avoided dismembered dogs.

“You could go that way.” Points out Fork as he indicates an overgrown trailhead. Yellow colored bricks were an underfunded reality for this particular stretch of highway. Passage would be single file and crouched in places...still...

“So, no dead dogs?” I ask.

“No, no.” Fork says assuredly. “Not this time of year.”

It was agreed that Fork would remain in the road in case Toto and Applejacks happened along. He would let them know we had entered the trail at this location.

“You are a classy piece of cutlery my friend.” I tell Fork before knifing into the woods...

Fork waits for us to round the first bend. Once we are lost from view he, further, disguises the entrance to the trail head. His role in Operation Freak-Out was completed...

He clasps his hands behind his back and begins casually whistling as he begins the walk to the Emerald City.

Since it was just, “casual” whistling, it didn’t violate the strictures put into place against musicals...I mean...It’s not like it’s a production or anything...

(End Part 4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)(Part 5) (Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)(Part 9)(Part 10)


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    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Several puns were used in the commission of a giggle here. All civil law has broken down. Toto is also loving the puppy chow and (occasional)peanut butter ball...

      I am expecting a lively search for the slippers once we make it back into town. I may have to bring Sponge back into this. He's handy to have...

      As always my wonderful friend!


    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      I had an early mental image of a bare-chested Putin wrestling a tiger when a helicopter zooms over and Sarah Palin shoots and kills the tiger from the helicopter. Yeah? What happened to that idea...? It would appear, my friend, that the Putins and Palins make strange bedfellows!

      Thanks for the stop!


    • barbergirl28 profile image

      Stacy Harris 

      6 years ago from Hemet, Ca

      I love all the puns that you have spinned in here... like the fork in the road... and chewing on it... ha ha ... I also love the puppy chow mix trail with the occasional peanut butter ball thrown in. Were you spying in my kitchen, as I made both for the holidays. Hmmm... that must be why all the dew is gone... Good luck finding those shoes... ha ha ha ha

    • FloraBreenRobison profile image


      6 years ago

      Somehow I do not see Palin or Putin understanding the relevance of The wizard of Oz. Palin just wants to shoot the lion and other animals and Putin wants to control them.

    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Part Three(sigh)was un-published due to technical picture issues...(i.e. i . may.have stole one....watermarked...?) I'm not really sure.

      Once the pounding in my head subsides I will fix that and I apologize for any inconvenience. No, no refunds.

      Once fixed it has to be looked at a human-type guy...could take 72 hours.

      The inside of my head has actually always been like this. I mean during casual conversation...odd (largely...unvoiced) thoughts would occur to me. I learned not to voice most of them. Until now...

      I wrote a lot of papers in school (i.e. history) but my work there trended towards the 'traditional' literary interpretations of the discipline.

      (note...I couldn't do it anywhere near as well as you and Alastar and other wonderful historical Hubbers but I kept it within industry norms...) Professors frowned on Creative Voice.

      I started this type of writing five months ago when I landed on near penniless and in need of a shave.

      Yes. I am still penniless and in need of a shave.

      I will get part three up for ya...and part 5 is stumbling along my friend!



      PS...Putin and L. Ron? Right? (Giggle-snort)

    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      As I always say...come for the midget porn reference...stay to see if there are any more midget porn tool really...

      (Alastar's penchant for midget pornography is registered on nationwide marking databases...)

      I'm glad that Sponge has nothing to worry about. I fancy for Sponge Bob...yeah..hose the freak!

      Your request for some "alone time" with Kelly in the woods has been noted and it will be acted upon. Remember though...that girl is handy with a taser.

      I hope you had a great New Years!


    • phdast7 profile image

      Theresa Ast 

      6 years ago from Atlanta, Georgia


      What happened to Part 3? Have the powers that be been meddling? Terrific Hub. Makes me wonder if the inside of your head has always looked like this. Did you write like this in school?

      My absolutely favorite reference. L. Ron Hubbard and Vladimir Putin in the same line. To just die for. :

      A turbulent and terrific trip! Theresa

    • Alastar Packer profile image

      Alastar Packer 

      6 years ago from North Carolina

      To start with, I like how some current events & controversial notables have been worked into the wizard's Reno. As soon as Angle put out the hit on my beloved companion wizard I started to worry a bit. But things worked out. The heavy duty chuckles stared at the Midget Porn and of course continued on from there. Let me look up the story a sec...yea, dude I can only hope to be so descriptive: straw, remnants of sweat-stained clothing, rotted tooth on roadmap, mo-frack'n tube of toothpaste..haha! Hey Thomas, Sponge got nuthin to worry about but would love to have a bladder prob behind SpongeBob! Alright, WWR number 4 has been a magnificent- awesome trip and there's just one little request for part 5: is it possible for Alastar and Kelly to get lost together in the forest for awhile? Happy New Years Thomas!

    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      If I planned this right...It's New Years right now in Serbia. Happy New Year! If I planned it wrong...I will add it to the things I have planned wrong in life!

      Stay safe and have fun!


    • nemanjaboskov profile image

      Nemanja Boškov 

      6 years ago from Serbia

      Thomas, I'm always honored when a comment of mine inspires you to include it in a story. When I say honored, I really mean it!

      Thanks for the great wishes, and we are here only a couple of hours from midnight, so I'll cash these in even sooner than you probably expected :)

    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Happy New Year to you, my friend!

      To be honest...on the Palin family inside story...I make a lot of this stuff up. I call it...fiction. I'm quite sure the Palins would call it defamation of character. Such is the cost of going through life without a sense of humor, I suppose.

      Yup...Comrade Putin has arrived and Bristol seems to like him a lot. We shall see what his story reveals.

      I like Sponge too. He's pretty cool. As for the altercation between Internal CD Player and Creative was based on your comments from the Don Quixote hub (laughing)...I'm glad it had the desired effect!

      You are awesome my friend! Best to you and yours in the coming year!


    • nemanjaboskov profile image

      Nemanja Boškov 

      6 years ago from Serbia

      Thomas, I just found the time to read the number four of this ... well, whatever it is :)

      I was so glad to see comrade Putin here, and he is yet to shine in this story... I don't know much about the Palins, but I'm gathering they are a wonderful family, right?

      It's great you have decided to write a story in a comfortable temperature, I like the new character (Sponge), I'm expecting a lot from the Bristol/Vladimir duo, I love that Internal CD finally complained about the battery incident, I can't wait to read more...

      I wish you all the best in the New Year, my friend! I hope you will start making some serious money from your writings, as I'm sure many would/will pay to read what you write!

      All the best,


    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Your comment and UP votes are what is awesome here, my friend! I am glad you are enjoying these little adventures.

      As I grope towards an ending I shall endeavor to make the last two parts equally fun!



    • Deborah Brooks profile image

      Deborah Brooks Langford 

      6 years ago from Brownsville,TX

      WOW.. WHAT A HUB...!! awesome


      Happy new year.


    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Thank you for giving Part 4 a chance! As for heroics...I'm not really sure what Fork's agenda is...Sponge seems like a solid guy though...



    • jhamann profile image

      Jamie Lee Hamann 

      6 years ago from Reno NV

      Thank you for giving sponge and fork a chance to save the world!

    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada


      Of course I will go on a picnic with you!! Remember...let's get some plastic forks and leave the dogs on the leash!

      Scarecrow not having the shoes is a dilemma...I have to think they will show up in the Emerald City/Reno...we will check the pawn shops...

      (laughing) ...ahhh...Bristol...she needs to free those reactive birth control pills...



    • ThoughtSandwiches profile imageAUTHOR


      6 years ago from Reno, Nevada

      Hi Tammy...

      Trippy and magical is a fun place to be and I am certainly glad you are enjoying it...and without the benefit (burden?) of the first three parts? I am very impressed!

      I am not sure the Palins would agree with your assessment of my gifts at a political satirist, but...I don't think they have a very good sense of humor...

      You are so very right...Midget porn is an acquired taste...

      Thank you for your kind words!


    • RealHousewife profile image

      Kelly Umphenour 

      6 years ago from St. Louis, MO

      TY- you are amazing! I wanna go to a picnic! Do you want to to with me? And I want my shoes back! Who has them?!

      Poor - poor Britol (not sure if I'm spelling her name right but I'm not checking!) lol.

      I hope that forked road isn't taking us into Russia! Free your reactive mind!

      Up and everything!!

    • profile image


      6 years ago

      Wow Thomas.. this is a very "trippy" and magical place. Loved the part about B. Palin and Vladimir. You have a real talent for political satire. Midget porn normally isn't my thing either, but you made it very enjoyable! I need to read the other parts now..Great job!


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