WHAT THE FUCK?!

I guess I thought uttering the phrase, "so I'm going to wake up now," was like a magic spell (or an un-magic spell), like abra-kadabra or "there's no place like home." Nothing happens though, I'm still in Oz with the flying monkey. So I try closing my eyes, you know like I have to sleep in my dram in order to wake up, that seems to work with some of the television shenanigans. Meanwhile the rich rumble of the devil's voice picks up and my ears flick forward him, but it's more like instinct than any attentiveness on my part, I'm a bit busy trying to get the hell out of Dodge. I'm not sure how long to wait with my eyes close so I peek one open after a bit, but Oz peeks back, so I quickly close it and scrunch them up tighter. Eventually I'm scrunching so tight I look the part for a Pepto-Bismol commercial - it's not working. Maybe if I close my eyes and say, "I'm going to wake up now!"? I'm interrupted by his compliment. I pause in my failed efforts, a bit exasperated and growing irate, so his word choice is perfect. Elegantly I lift my gaze to Mestophiles, a well-practiced smile playing on my face, the kind that doesn't cause too many wrinkles, but adds that hint of attraction; the proper body language is just like applying makeup correctly. "Power and grace and?" I drawl sweetly, lashes sweeping exaggeratedly as I slowly blink. It's almost a knee-jerk reaction to flirt back, but I'm reminded of my situation whenever my gaze travels to his grotesquely enlarged lip-line, or the face he has a horse-face. So I shake it off with a quick jerk of my head and instead dissolve into a pouty sigh at his questions. I'm still convinced this is a dream so I don't really give a rat's ass about him or what he's saying, but I wonder if it's my subconscious trying to talk to me, get me to remember something important so I can wake up. Just like on TV you can't end an episode until the main character learned the moral, so maybe that's what I need to do. Although I was only half listening I recall what he asked. "This ugly old bitch kept following me around asking for food and money. She was always there on my way to and from school, totally blind to the disgusted faces my friends and I made. They tried to tell me to just do it and she'd go away, but I don't negotiate with terrorists, so I told her to her face what I thought of her because honesty is the best policy. So the psycho followed me home, popped out of one of the horse stalls, I nearly DIED from a heart attack. Then she said some stuff and pointed her un-manicured old finger at me. This light surrounded one of the horses and me and here I am." I scrunched up my lips with disgust at the memory of her. "I should have called the police because they deal with the homeless, it's a real issue these days. It's not my fault they blew all their dough on drugs and gambling, so I shouldn't have to put up with them. Gross." He says something a bit interesting at the end. He doesn't know why he's here too? Why would my dream say that, he obviously lives here. Anyway I'm still here, and I'm pretty sure I got the moral right, so that mustn't have been the key. Maybe there's something to this Oz comparison after all? "There's no place like home," I begin to mutter under my breath and slide my legs closer together so that I can click my hooves together. They aren't ruby, or even red, but they definitely have got to be magical because I once had toes... M A N D Y