Read The Witch's Brew: A Collection of Hilarious Short Stories Starring the Wicked Witch of the West for Free Online

Handkerchief rubbed his crotch then blew Dorothy a kiss off the hand he had rubbed his crotch with. She caught it in her glove and held it to her heart. Mickey growled. He grabbed Dorothy and pushed her toward the door. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to go.” Dorothy waved to Apollo Creed the Thirteenth starring Tom Handkerchief and went outside. Mickey followed here there. A limo was waiting for them. They climbed in and the driver hit the gas. The limo pulled up a short time later outside the Caseen I Know I Shouldn’t Bet, But What the Hell its Only One Bet and they climbed out. A reporter stepped in front of Dorothy and shoved a microphone in her face. “Do you think you can win?” the reporter asked. Dorothy grabbed the microphone and turned to the television camera. “Yo you **BEEPin** Wicked Witch, I’m gonna make mince meat of your children you Goddam **BEEPin** **BEEP** so Take That who sang my favorite song about that Goddam **BEEPin** coffee cup with the **BEEPin** lipstick marks still on it and I love youse all so Wicked Witch you can suck my **BEEPin** **BEEP** Got it you Goddam **BEEPin** **BEEP**??”
    Mickey hurried Dorothy who was still **BEEPin** into the Caseen I Know I Shouldn’t Bet, But What the Hell its Only One Bet. The reporter turned to his cameraman. “What the **BEEPin **BEEP** was that all about?” The cameraman shrugged. “Beats the **BEEPin** **BEEP** outta me.”  
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    “H ere we are folks,” the ringside announcer said into his microphone with a great big smile on his face. The cheers from the crowd of about five thousand were fierce. Adrenalin pumped hard around the arena. “We’re ringside for what has been dubbed The Battle of Oz, Mark Two. The Wicked Witch of the West versus Dorothy Gale. The Green Machine versus The Tornado. The Broom of Doom versus The Kansas Ka Boom.”
    The lights went down and an electric guitar began to play. Yeah babeee. Rockin sockin jumpin pumpin skin em alive heavy metal music. There’s nothin like it to get a crowd’s blood pumpin.
    Back in Dorothy’s dressing room, Mickey Windmill Not Goldmill like It Was in the Rocky Movies paced around like a cat on hot coals. Dorothy was down on one knee in the far corner, praying to God. In the other room, the Wicked Witch was down on one knee too, praying to the Great and Powerful Ozzie Was Born with the Head of a Bat in His Mouth.
    Frank Who Would Be Mor Gan a Hundred and Twenty Years Old If He Were Still Alive Today came into Dorothy’s dressing room armed with a pair of gloves and a roll of tape. “It’s time to get ready, Dorothy.”
    Dorothy crossed her chest with two fingers and stood up. She turned to Frank and held out her hands with her palms facing up. “Let’s do it,” she said.
    In the other room, a young man taped the Wicked Witch’s bony green hands. The Caseen I Know I Shouldn’t Bet But What The Hell It’s Only One Bet employed him to work the Wicked Witch’s corner despite her protests that she didn’t need no stinkin boy to help her. So, to appease her, they made him take a shower.
    Out in the arena, the crowd went wild as the heavy metal madman strummed the bass string of his guitar. A deep throaty growl echoed throughout the arena. It was as if the Devil himself had cried out. Oh yeah, babeee.
    Dorothy punched her gloved fists together and placed them on Mickey’s shoulders. Together, they left her dressing room and headed for the arena. The electric guitar stopped strumming and Dorothy’s song of choice poured out of the dozens of speakers around the arena - The Final Countdown . The winner would take it all, sang ABBA, and there were no second chances. Dorothy and Mickey entered the arena. The crowd went ballistic. It was a Dorothy crowd for sure. They loved her. She was their champion. She was a people’s champion. BANG!!!
    The Wicked Witch looked down at her gloved hands. The time had come. This was it. Once and for all. Only one would