Joined by Green Energy Man with the promise of installing an oil-fired furnace inside him, we were off to see the Rambunctious Rascal of Roz in the Rough and Tough Realm of Roz. Say that five times fast. Little did I know that I was not done building my motley crew.
Continued from Where Does the Red Brick Road Lead? – Part 4.
Where Does the Red Brick Road Lead? Will this motley crew ever get out of the forest? #robertglover #comedy Share on XWe left the center of Munchkinland behind and proceeded into what I can only call the suburbs – Munch-burbs? – with still no Munchkins in sight, and fortunately no flying monkeys. It was slow going as Green Energy Man had to sit down and recharge his batteries every ten minutes, but not even that could dampen my optimism.
At the very edge of the Munch-burbs, a large, brick building loomed over the ever-widening R.B. It stuck out from the smaller munchkin homes that surrounded it.
“What’s that?” I asked Green Energy Man.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t get out here much.”
I was ready to leave it at that, until I heard a voice behind me: “It’s the old recycling plant.”
Mr. Recyclable Joins the Motley Crew
Both Green Energy Man and I swiveled around to stare at a towering stack of cardboard boxes duct-taped together to form an anthropomorphic statue. Two stacks formed the legs, which led up to several boxes joined together in the midsection. At the top of this mountain, another box formed a head whose features were sketched in via a Sharpie. On either side of the midsection, more boxes protruded outwards to form arms with paper towel rolls as makeshift fingers.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Mr. Recyclable – unfortunately.”
“That’s not a good thing?”
“Are you kidding me? Feel me,” he said. I touched his extended arm. “I’m made of the same material those flimsy new straws are made of.”
“You mean paper? Wouldn’t that make you Paper Man?”
“Don’t overthink it.”
“Okay.”
“I’m a product of the late twentieth century munchkin recycling debacle.”
Trying to be nonchalant about this soaring pile of flammable material, I asked, “Munchkins recycled?”
“They did for a while, until everyone realized it was just a waste of time.”
“No kidding?”
“It got to the point the munchies were throwing their used toilet paper in the bins, because it made them feel good about themselves.”
“Over the rainbow, we have a word for that: virtue-signaling.”
“Oh,” he looked perplexed, “is that a synonym for stupid? In any case, I’m stuck with this recyclable material, forever frightened of cloudy days.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you come to the Scarlet City with us? The Rascal of Roz will surely be able to come up with a nonbiodegradable coating for you.”
He looked up at the sky. “No clouds. I suppose I could chance it.”
“That’s the spirit! To Roz?”
“What the heck.”
With that ringing endorsement, we were off again.
Fearless Ferret – the Final Member of Our Motley Crew
Several hours later, a canopy of green trees obscured the blue skies. Mr. Recyclable clomped along, weighed down by the bulky corpus of Green Energy Man, who had collapsed under the forest shade, unable to get a charge. I wasn’t about to let our sluggish pace dim my optimism though. We were on our way to see the Rambunctious Rascal of Roz in the Rough and Tough Realm of Roz, and that was all that mattered.
In an instant, my hopeful reverie was shattered as I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. “Ow!” I looked down. A long, slim, hairy creature with a body like a slinky stared back up at me. “What the heck!” I said.
“Like that? Want some more?”
Nothing surprised me anymore. A talking ferret? No big deal. It was as natural as a walking heap of cardboard boxes, and a talking dishwasher. “What was that for?”
“To show you I mean business.”
“Yeah?” I sat down on a rock. “How’d you like it if I punted you from here to Munchkinland?”
“Try it, buster. I’ll gnaw your ankle till you fall like a redwood.”
“I like your moxie, kid.” I applied pressure to stop the trickle of blood. “Who are you?”
“I’m the Fearless Ferret. And you’re trespassing.”
“Trespassing? This is the Red Brick Road.”
“Red Brick Road? Are you kidding? This is the Blue Block Boulevard. You’re way off.”
“I thought we took a wrong turn at that last dumpster”, said Mr. Recyclable.
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
“Hey,” said Fearless Ferret, “are you by any chance going to Roz?”
“As a matter of fact we are.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“What are you looking for? A heart? A brain? Self-restraint?”
“Nah, she owes me a double sawbuck from a card game.”
“By golly, that’s good enough for me.” I popped up, ankle throbbing. “Let’s go.” I surveyed my merry band. “To Roz?” They rolled their eyes.
“You’re not gonna’ start that, are you?” said Fearless Ferret.
“I can hold off.” With renewed resolve, I began limping along.
The Scarlet City at Last
After Fearless had guided us back to the R.B., we continued sloughing along to Roz. Only glimpses of red brick showed at intervals in the otherwise dirt path beneath us. I was sweating and limping still, my stomach growling after a day without food. Green Energy Man had passed out and hadn’t spoken in hours. Mr. Recyclable grunted and wheezed with each clomping step. Only Fearless the Ferret sprang forward with enthusiasm.
Just when I thought we might not make it, and our gallivanting group would have to turn around, the sky began to break through above us and the endless green and shadow dispersed like clouds parting at the end of a rainy day. The forest opened on to a broad open meadow, with wild flowers on either side of the now visible road.
Best of all, in the distance a red glow pulsed under the powder blue sky. It had to be Roz!
“Fearless, is that what I think it is?” I asked. “The Rough and Tough Realm of Roz? City of hope and joy and miracles?”
He cocked his head. “Roz? The Scarlet City? The city that makes Las Vegas look tame?”
“You kidder.”
“Sure, whatever. That’s what people call me.”
Nothing Fearless or anyone could say was going to dim my optimism. I was on the verge of finding out where the Red Brick Road led. I was going to see the Rambunctious Rascal of Roz in the Rough and Tough Realm of Roz. I was ready for anything. Or so I thought.
To be continued in Part 6…
