WERE-BOY:
Take your pick, old man. Take any girl you want. Or any boy.
WERE-BOY
They’ll all be your Dorothy, for a price.
OZ reaches over and grabs the boy by the throat, easily lifting him off the ground. He growls, and his face shifts and lengthens, becomes that of a wolf.
WERE-BOY:
Shit, man!
OZ throws him against the wall. The boy crumples down and shifts, becoming wholly human.
OZ:
Well? I’m waiting.
WERE-BOY:
Dorothy, Dorothy … was she hooked up, man? She’s that wannabe-actress chick who got hooked on emerald dust, right? Shit, I know her. Everyone knows her. Why didn’t you just say so?
OZ growls. There’s a growing pee stain on the boy’s trousers.
WERE-BOY:
You should ask Tinny. He’s dealin’ the good stuff. The rainbow dust. If anyone should know it’s him.
Oz runs through the quiet fields on a night of the full moon. His tongue lolls out as he runs. He grins.
Miles and miles of quiet fields, with nothing but scarecrows for company. His wolf-mind dreams of bright lights and crowded streets, a gourmet restaurant and a take-away menu rolled into one, both buffet and a-la-carte. His human mind dreams of the ocean, and the sound of the waves as they break against the shore, and moonlit walks along the beach. He has never seen the ocean—only in movies.
She waits for him at the agreed place. They are on the boundary of her uncle’s farm. A barn, and she is waiting outside, in the cold, puffing on a cigarette. His wolf-nose picks up the smell keenly. Her aunt and uncle disapprove of smoking, as they do of most things. It’s why she does it, even though he tells her it’s no good for her.
But Dorothy doesn’t listen to him. She doesn’t listen to anybody.
Dorothy is going to be a star.
The city. Their shared dream is joined, entwined. He bounds towards her, jumping over her and they roll on the ground. He changes as he rolls, become a large and naked young man. Dorothy giggles. ‘You’re funny,’ she says. He licks her face. She pushes him away.
They make out in the hay, in the dark barn. She makes him cum with her hand. Later, they just lie there, in the darkness, and she says, ‘I wish a tornado would come and take me away from here.’
He wants to be her tornado. He says, “I’m saving up. I’m working two jobs.”
She laughs. “How much money can you make on a paper round?”
Which hurts, but he doesn’t say anything.
“We need to make enough for the city,” she says. “It’s not a place we can go to just like that.”
He is restless. “I want us to go soon!” he says, and she laughs. “Patience, my wolf,” she says. But he knows she is equally restless.
INT. BARBERSHOP—DAY
OZ walks into the barbershop. There is one customer, a SCARECROW. TINNY stands above him with shears.
SCARECROW:
Just a trim, please, Tinny.
TINNY turns when he sees OZ.
TINNY:
What do you want, hairy? A full buzz cut?
TINNY laughs. The SCARECROW turns around to look.
SCARECROW:
Oh shit.
The SCARECROW tries to get up, but TINNY’s heavy hand presses him down in his seat.
TINNY:
Noleaves until the Tin Meister’s done with them.
OZ takes in the scene calmly.
OZ:
I’m lookin’ for a client a yours. Young lady name of Dorothy.
TINNY stands still.
TINNY:
What’s she to you, furry?
OZ:
Enough with the slurs, tin face. She got hooked on your shit, and she got hooked bad. I know that much. And now she’s missin’. And I’m going to find her.
TINNY:
Good luck to ya, pal. Now get out of my barbershop.
OZ calmly puts a cigarette in his mouth. He smiles. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a box of matches. The illustration on the box is of a tall soldier with vivid-green whiskers. Oz strikes a match against one of his claws. He lights the cigarette, puffs out smoke, and tosses the match at the SCARECROW.
SCARECROW:
For the love of Glinda! Help!
The SCARECROW goes up in flame like a bundle of dry hay on a hot summer’s day. His screams fill up the shop. The fire spreads. With two quick steps OZ is right beside TINNY. His claws reach out and grab TINNY by the throat. There is the sound of metal being scraped.
OZ:
I’m listenin’, metal-face.
TINNY:
You’ll pay for this, wolf-man.
OZ:
Spill it out.
OZ’s claws tighten over TINNY’s throat, easily cutting into the metal flesh.
TINNY:
Okay, okay. Let go!
The flames are reflected in TINNY’s face. The SCARECROW burns and screams but neither man pay him any attention.
TINNY:
She got hooked on rainbows and emerald dust, and couldn’t pay.
TINNY:
So I sold her.
OZ:
You did what?
TINNY:
She knew what she was doin’, man.
TINNY:
No one’s innocent in the Emerald City.
TINNY:
Not even you.
OZ:
Who’d you sell her to?
