Dorothy Miggins, now awake from the jolt of the landing Manor and Toto worrying for some breakfast, climbs warily from the bed. ‘Where are we, Toto?’ says she.
‘Wuff,’ says Toto.
Outside sounds eerily quiet. The Manor is intact, but sitting at a slight tilt as though it has landed on something.
‘Let’s take a look outside,’ says Dorothy Miggins. And the two friends creep to the front door and cautiously open it….
….to a World of Glorious Technicolour!
Yes indeed! Where once the world of Dorothy Miggins was fashionably modern but monochrome, now it is flooded with colour so bright she wishes she could find her sunglasses! It is almost as if some sort of metaphor is being employed to make a cinematic statement about how much more joyful our lives could be if only we would step into the world beyond our comfort zone. Anyway, onwards. Lots to see, lots to do.
As Dorothy Miggins emerges into this magical new world of paint chart gone mad, small rustlings can be heard coming from the surrounding trees and bushes. Some of the trees are decorated with tinsel and baubles, just in case you’ve forgotten ‘tis the festive season. Dorothy Miggins and Toto gaze in wonder and awe as the space around them fills with strange little…ducks.
(You didn’t think I was going to have strange little people, did you? Absolutement pas! It’s anthropomorphism all the way, my friends!)
The ducks are all shapes and sizes. Short ones, tall ones, some as big as your head. Some even have a look of coconut about them. They are dressed in smart little outfits and once they have ascertained that their unexpected visitors are a harmless hen and an odd dog, they emerge from their hiding places with greater confidence and begin to sing and dance and cheer. One of the taller and fatter ducks, dressed in mayor’s garb including a massive chain of office and an ostentatious hat, steps forward and grabs Dorothy Miggins by the wing.
‘BACK OFF!’ yells Dorothy Miggins, remembering her ‘Stranger Danger’ training.
‘Apologies, dear lady, apologies,’ says the duck. ‘For I am overcome with emotion at the great deed you have done us. Allow me to introduce myself more formally. I am Mayor Bertie Duck, and you are very welcome here in Duckkin Land.’ And he bows as deeply as a duck can, given they have a lot of frontage and relatively short legs.
‘Duckkin Land?’ says Dorothy Miggins. ‘I have never heard of this place. And what great deed have I done? I rather think I’ve caused a bit of a mess, landing my house in one of your lovely flower borders.’
Mayor Bertie quacks with laughter. Laughs with quacks? You know.
‘Dear friend of Duckkin Land, please follow me,’ and he beckons her back to where the Manor is sitting, all at a bit of a squiff. ‘Look,’ he says, pointing his wing.
Following his direction, Dorothy Miggins stares and then gasps. For beneath the Manor sticks out a pair of legs, dressed in stripy wool stockings and shod in a pair of sparkly ruby red sequin slippers! (Or silver slippers, if we are going to stick to the original novel version, but I like red, so let’s go with that. Plus, there have been a lot of interesting feminist tracts on the symbolism of the ruby red slippers in the film version of ‘The Wizard of Oz’. Just so you know. In case you are looking for further light reading.)
‘O…M…G!’ squeals Dorothy Miggins. ‘Is that a dead body?’
‘I jolly well hope so,’ says Mayor Bertie Duck, and the rest of the Duckkins quack in agreement.
‘I didn’t mean to kill anyone,’ says Dorothy Miggins. ‘I mean, sometimes I say I want to, but I never actually do it…’
‘It’s fine,’ says Mayor Bertie Duck. ‘By landing your Manor there, you have rid us of the scourge that is the Wicked Witch of the East!’
Suddenly, there is a puff of smoke and the inhabitants of Duckkin Land shrink back in horror and fear.
‘It most certainly is NOT fine!’ shrieks a voice, and from the cloud of smoke emerges a very angry- looking blue witch. ‘I am the Wicked Poo of the West and YOU have killed my beloved sister!’ she continues and points a pointy stick at Dorothy Miggins.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ says Dorothy Miggins, her legs starting to tremble and shake.
‘Wuff!’ says Toto.
‘And you can shut up!’ snaps the Wicked Poo of the West. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet, just you wait and see.’
‘Don’t you threaten my pantomime dog!’ says Dorothy Miggins, feeling anger rise in her crop.
‘You tell her, Dorothy Miggins,’ says ANOTHER voice from ANOTHER puff of smoke, this time a sort of blush pink. And from the pretty pink puff of smoke emerges a pretty pink puff of a fairy.
‘My name is Gloria Glinda,’ she says. ‘And I am the Good Pumphrey of the North.’
The Duckkins all clap their wings and cheer.
‘SHUT UP!’ shouts the Wicked Poo of the West. Really, she has very poor manners. ‘Where are the ruby slippers? Now my sister is dead, they belong to me.’
‘I don’t think so,’ says Gloria Glinda and she waves her magic wand. Dorothy Miggins feels a tingling in her toes and when she looks down, there are the ruby slippers, safely and firmly attached to her feet. She immediately wishes she had worn socks of a different colour to blue, because they do clash a bit, but even she has to admit, they are jolly pretty slippers.
‘Give them to me!’ demands the Wicked Poo of the West. ‘They are MINE!’
‘Oh hush!’ says Gloria Glinda. ‘Begone with you, before I push you in a puddle.’
The Wicked Poo of the West looks around her in terror. ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she says, but clearly she wants to take no chances because, with a terrifying cackle and a threat that they haven’t heard the last from her yet, she disappears in a puff of blue smoke.
The cheering from the Duckkins is ear-shattering. They treat Dorothy Miggins and Toto as heroes, showering them with gifts of flowers, chocolates and citations, you know, the usual thank you type stuff. And whilst Dorothy Miggins enjoys the party enormously all she really wants is to find her way home. And she says as much to Gloria Glinda during a quiet moment between the Hokey Cokey and the conga line.
‘Aah,’ says Gloria Glinda. ‘Then what you need to do is go and see the Great and Mighty Wizard of Oz. He knows everything. He will know how to get you and Toto home.’
At the mention of the name of Oz, the Duckkins grow quiet.
‘Where does the Great and Mighty Wizard of Oz live?’ says Dorothy Miggins.
‘In the City of Rusty Duck,’ says Gloria Glinda.
‘It’s our spiritual home,’ says Mayor Bertie Duck. ‘But it got a bit overcrowded with squirrels, so some of us migrated here, to Duckkin Land. But we still like to go back to Rusty Duck for a holiday, don’t we?’
The other Duckkins quack in agreement.
‘And how do I get to this marvellous City of Rusty Duck?’ says Dorothy Miggins.
‘Why,’ says Gloria Glinda, ‘you follow the Yellow Brick Road.’
‘Like in the Elton John song?’ says Dorothy Miggins. ‘Where the dogs of society howl?’
Gloria Glinda wrinkles her pretty pink face. ‘I’m not sure about that,’ she says. ‘You might have the wrong song. Shall we sing the correct one to you, to send you on your way?’
‘If you must,’ says Dorothy Miggins. She places her ruby-slippered feet at the start of the Yellow Brick Road and slaps her thigh to bring Toto to heel. And as she beings her journey (with an unnecessary amount of going around in circles until the road straightens itself out) the Duckkins begin to sing. Sing with them, if you like. You know the tune:
‘You’re off to see the Wizard! He’s such a wonderful chap!
We hear he is a whizz of a bloke, with a mask, a hat and a cape!
Whatever you need, whatever you want,
No matter your journey’s been far,
He’ll send you home no trouble at all
With a ‘Mwahaha-ha-Ha!’
Dorothy Miggins can’t get out of there fast enough.
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