Chapter 9 Of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite Is Up On AO3!

Over the Garden Wall Novelization Chpt 1

(A very rough draft of a novel I might finish later for Ao3, depending on people's interest. I was thinking about the day I also almost got hit by a train and the police thought we died).

Chapter One: Into the Frog Pond

When Wirt had told his younger brother that he was too busy to look for frogs, that didn't mean he'd wanted Greg to get run over by a train. 

He also hadn't meant that he'd wanted to get hit by the train himself. Who would have expected they'd both have to dive off the tracks just in time for the big black blur to rumble over them, and that they'd be plunged into the river's icy October waters to drown?

That was the kind of thing that happened whenever you had to babysit Greg. 

It all started on Halloween when Wirt had to take him trick or treating.

Greg was a short, fat five-year-old, currently wearing an upside-down teapot on his head. "I'm an elephant," he said, spinning around. "The spout is the trunk!"

Never in a million years would Wirt have understood this, if his brother hadn't pointed it out. But he couldn't say much, since his own costume was just as bad. He held onto the tall red dunce cap meant to be a wizard hat that kept blowing off in the wind—it's a lesson we all must learn that Halloween costumes never cooperate as well as we hope.

The sound of crunching leaves grew louder underfoot as they approached the graveyard gate: a few rusted iron bars with spikes. Beyond it, the gravestones were pale shapes in the dark. Somewhere in the distance, a frog croaked, a low, drawn-out sound echoing off the stones.

"Come on!" said Greg, pushing the gate open. "Me and Dad saw a big one in the duck pond."

"Okay," Wirt said. "I just don't want to get my costume wet." He brushed off some mud and pulled his blue cape tighter as they crept inside.

Kerrrrok, kerrrrok, kerrrok

"I think it's the giant bullfrog," said Greg. "Me and Dad see him whenever we go fishing." 

Greg jumped over flat graves as if they were no more than hopscotch squares.

Wirt stood still, watching his breath mingle with the mist before following. "Careful, don't slip," he said. "After all… we all croak in the dark."

"Maybe you should just hop to it!" Greg scolded, waving him over.

Kerrrrrrrrrrrok, kerrrrrrrrrrrok, kerrrrrrrrrrrrok

"Shh! I think I hear the frog... over there!" Greg froze.

Wirt's eyes followed Greg's pointing finger to the edge of the graveyard. A rickety fence in the distance barely kept overgrown grass from spilling out of the railroad enclosure beyond.

They approached the thin chain-linked gate, the likes of which might be found in a backyard and easily jumped. The only thing that signified danger was the fact that on the other side there was a steep incline crowded with bramble and thorns—unkempt in faith they'd do what the half-hearted gate could not. 

And yet, if one looked hard enough, there were some clear paths up the slope writhing between the bushes—perfectly good for reaching the top should the desire burn deeply enough in their heart.

Greg was already putting one foot in front of the other, as Wirt slowly slung his own legs over.

Kerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrok, kerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrok, kerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrok

The frog's cries were desperate now, seeming to say "Catch me! Hurry! What's taking so long?"

The scratchy ascent would have been a hard enough wrestling match without a cape, but somehow Wirt made it through. Greg reached the top first with burrs stuck to his overalls, and was skipping back and forth over the rails.

"Hey, I've never got to walk on a train track before," he said, putting his hands on his hips and doing a twirl.

Wirt had never been on one either. Unfortunately it was getting really dark now, so it was hard to appreciate the fine details of craftsmanship. Under moonlight, the most that could be observed were the two steel rails stretching like sinews, the sleepers spaced with precision, and if he squinted, a few fish bolts coming loose.

A dark speck appeared in the distance.

When Wirt looked back on the incident years later, he could never remember the train making a sound until it was right in front of them.

"Trains are dangerous," adults always said. "Even if you think they're far away, they can appear in the blink of an eye. Even if you're not standing close to them, the pressure can suck you under. You'll instantly be killed."

Well, after that night, Wirt could safely say which of these things were and weren't true. The train took its time coming—too much time, if he was honest. He and Greg sat indian-style on the track watching it calmly for a minute, not fully convinced the shape really was a train because of how slow it was going.

There was no sound for a long time, and when the lights and rushing noise finally grew, there was plenty of time to dive away. No, it was only because Wirt's cape got caught on one of the fish bolts that he was jerked back into the wood chips.

Even then, nobody got sucked under. In fact, Wirt rolled the opposite way when he finally tore himself free.

And Greg… Well…

"GREG!"

CRRRRAAAAAASH-CLAAANG-TCHOOOM-SHRREEEEEEEECH-KLUNK-KLUNK-RUMBLE-RATTLE-CLACKA-CLACKA-CLACKA-VOOOOOM-KRASHHH-CHUGGA-CHUGGA-THRUMMMM-WOOOOOOOO-SPLAANG!

Coldness punched Wirt in the chest. 

A force pressed hard from every side, so his limbs were too heavy to move. He was yanked downward through blackness as his hands grasped empty water.

Wirt had fallen into the river after his brother. Now both of them were dying.

Greg. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not while he was babysitting. "GREEEEEEEEG!"

CLACKA-CLACKA-OOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Coldness. 

Blackness. 

Sinking. 

Fog enveloped everything.

~*~

The moment Wirt’s shoes hit the mud, he felt the ground give way beneath him. His arms shot out, grasping for anything to hold. 

The frog's croaking grew deafening, as if every amphibian in the pond had joined into a chant. 

"Wirt! It’s deeper than I thought!"

Wirt tried to speak, but his words were swallowed by water. Then the current stopped abruptly, and pushed him the other direction in a way that seemed conscious and purposeful for a river.

“Wirt, hold on!” 

Fingers brushed his arm as the frogs sang louder. Wirt clasped Greg's hand as his younger brother pulled him up. Wirt coughed and blinked the water from his eyes.

They were in a brown pond. The algae had torn into a jagged circle where they'd surfaced. Though it was still dark, the chill had died, being replaced with warmer air, as if it were late summer instead of mid fall.

Wirt shook himself off, and the water slid from his clothes easily, more like slime than liquid.

"A…are you okay…?" He stared at Greg, who was smiling and dancing knee-deep in the mud.

"Yeah! That was fun! I got my bullfrog, see?" He held the biggest, fattest frog Wirt had ever seen over his head, and stuffed it under his teapot.

Kerrok, it said sorrowfully, making Wirt's heart twinge a bit.

At first he wasn't sure why something about his brother looked off. Then he realized the implausibility of the teapot still being on his head after being swept downstream.

"Huh? Hey, did you realize—How do we still have our hats?" Wirt took his own from his head and held it out to examine. It hadn't been nearly so stable in the graveyard.

A sound cut through the air—a man's voice chanting:

O, we took a left when the map said right,

Now we're driftin' off where day is night.

The sign said "Destination," but I reckon it lied,

We're here in the void, where the stars've died.

There was a heavy crunch, like footsteps on brittle leaves. Wirt’s breath caught, and he turned to see a figure moving through the fog, a tall shape in a dark coat, carrying something long and heavy.

The compass points north, or was it west?

We might've failed, but we did our best.

We lost the plot when we took a fall,

Now it seems we're nowhere at all.

“Hello!” Greg called, waving. “Do you know the way back to the railroad we were trespassing on?”

"Shut up!" hissed Wirt, certain Greg was going to get them arrested.

The figure stopped. Wirt could see him more clearly now—a man, tall and broad, with a weathered face and eyes sunken deeply into their sockets. He carried an axe, the blade dark and stained. Most likely a Halloween costume, but wasn't it a little dangerous to be using a real axe if that was the case?

When the man raised a lantern to light his pale face, a chill returned to the air, but not due to the temperature. Wirt grabbed Greg’s shoulder and pulled him back.

The man’s bloodshot eyes settled on them, and his voice was a low rumble. “You two are lost.”

Wirt swallowed. “Yeah... We fell into the river, and now we’re... Well, we don’t know where we are. What city is this?"

The man just stared. Then he let out a dry laugh. “You two are more lost than you realize," he said. "Both are a bit young to be dead, I would think."

Wirt didn't know what to say to this, so he said nothing. He didn't know who this man was, but decided to wait for him to go away.

Greg, unfortunately, was too dumb to be shy. "Hey, are you gonna kill us with that axe? You look like a bad guy. Are you wearing a costume?"

"Greg!" Wirt kicked his ankle.

But the man didn't look offended. His expression was blank. Too blank. For a moment, it looked like he was broken.

"It's out of my hands to decide who lives and dies," he said finally. "Such are the whims of fate."

"Wirt, do you think that man has any candy for us?" Greg said loudly, as if the man wasn't standing right there. "Hey!" he turned and yelled. "TRICK OR TREAT!"

The man shook his head slowly. "There are no treats for you out here, boy. And I suggest you keep your voice down if you don't want to attract the beast." His eyes fell upon Wirt. "You should keep an eye on your brother. Goodnight to you." He turned to continue on his way. As he trudged off, Wirt saw a bundle of wood strapped to his back.

 AW-ROOH! AWWWW-ROOOOH!

Wirt and Greg both splashed backward at a howl that sounded all too near.

"It's the beast!" yelled Wirt. "We have to get out of here! Come on!"

He and Greg dashed out of the water. There was a slurping sound as Wirt's shoe was pulled off by quicksand. He didn't stop, keeping his pace the same as Greg's. Greg was at the age of being too heavy to carry, but slow enough that the best you could do was watch his back and pray he went fast enough.

"Quick! Over here!" said a voice.

Wirt and Greg turned through a grove to see a big broken-down house with a waterwheel looming before them. Hopefully inside would be safe. Safer, at least, then outside with a beast, at the bottom of a river, in the middle of a train track, or any of the other places they'd been that night.

Chapter Nine is Up (Everybody Needs a Thneed)

Summary:

Once-ler's dreams finally start to come true and his family joins him in the valley. Something bad happens at the end.

EXCERPT:

A short response to his letter came to the post office later that week. It read:

Dear Oncie,

It’s so wonderful to hear from you. We’ve all been doing just fine. Gizette just got an eye exam and discovered she needs glasses, but we don’t have enough money. Would it be possible for you to loan us a few hundred since we’re behind on bills? I’ll probably be able to pay it back this fall or the next. I don't think we can come to visit, the journey is too far. Thanks, love you.

-Ma.

All at once, he remembered why his family was so hard to miss.

Once-ler felt a familiar guilt that rose in his stomach whenever his family asked for help. He could hear his dad’s voice echoing in his ears, saying “We could really use the help, Once-ler, otherwise I’ll have to spend my whole night in the forest again.”

He could hear the insults of his siblings, calling him a failure who didn’t work hard enough. After all, it shouldn’t be difficult for someone who was actually successful to do small favors for their struggling family here and there. "You should have yer life figured out by now. Stop being a loser!"

Once-ler went to his bed to get out the money he hid with his old books under his mattress, and counted out three hundreds. Wait. That was all he had left? He’d been in this valley without selling anything for longer than he’d planned. He paused, running a hand through his hair, and stared at the cover of his battered copy of The Virtue of Selfishness.

Slowly he put the money back between its covers, then went back to his desk. He stared at the letter with a frown. Finally he ripped it in half, and tossed it out the window.

It was high time he started being more selfish. After all, if you didn't take care of yourself first, you'd never be able to take care of anyone else. Right?

"Self care and coffee," was a slogan Aunt Grizelda had embroidered and hung above her door, and Uncle Ubb always got away with saying he had too many health problems from smoking and had to stand up for himself. Why could the rest of his family always get away with this attitude but not him?

READ THE FULL CHAPTER AND STORY ON A03!

So far 9 out of 16 chapters are posted, but there might be a few more by the time it's done.

(Comments and kudos on ao3 are really appreciated)!

Lorax Rewrite Excerpt

Without focusing on Ted, the story can start earlier and show more of Once-ler's background trying to sell his Thneed. What bad influences did he have when it came to running a business? Some of the advice in this chapter are real things I've been told...

Excerpt below:

He pulled the Thneed from his neck, and spread it on the table. "Ah, you know what, let me just show you."

"It's brilliant," said the main representative immediately.

He was the shortest man and wore a sleek white suit. "The audacity is stunning. It's the perfect balance between essential and useless. Whimsical enough to capture the imagination, yet quaint enough to be marketed as a necessity. This is, indeed, something everyone needs. We would just have to make it out of a better material. For the most part, there's not a single thing that could be improved. However…" He looked up from his spinny chair at the long table. "There's one problem."

His colleagues in smaller chairs around him nodded their heads knowingly.

"Whaddya mean?" asked Once-ler.

The salesman pressed his fingers together and leaned forward. "To sell a product, you need to have a certain degree of charisma," he explained. "The creator's image is even more important than the thing itself when it comes to commerce. That is, you can't just come into a company in your dirty lumberjack clothes, dragging a mule, singing out of tune, and expect to be a success."

Once-ler turned red. There were no barns in North Nitch, so he'd been taking Melvin everywhere with him on a leash. The buildings were so big it hadn't occurred to him there was anything wrong with it. Plus Melvin was such a well-behaved mule, or maybe it was just that he hadn't had any human friends in so long, Once-ler had unconsciously started to think of him as a person.

He also resented his spiffy new outfit being called dirty lumberjack clothes. The fashion of his old town must've looked that way to outsiders no matter how new or clean they were. He observed the stiff, sleek blazers the businessmen wore and took note.

"There seem to be two of you here right now, Mr. Ler," the salesman said, and Once-ler got the feeling he wasn't talking about the fact that he'd brought his mule.

"On one hand, I see a powerful inventor with an ingenious work ethic, capable of bringing impressive ideas to life. But you can’t let humility hold you back. My advice to you is to try and think of yourself a little more selfishly, if you know what I mean."

"No, sir… Could you expand on that?"

"I mean stop thinking of yourself as someone small from a lowly background. You have to imagine yourself as bigger than everyone else."

The salesman hopped from his chair and drew his own short body to its full height in front of the towering woodsman.

"It doesn't matter if you're the tallest person in the world, if you never think you can reach anything." The businessman threw a pointed glance at a geeky young intern with glasses and braces. "Isn't that right, Aloysius?"

"I get it, Dad." The teenager rolled his eyes.

The salesman folded up the Thneed, and handed it back to Once-ler. "You have potential, but come back when your marketing strategy has improved. Have you ever read The Virtue of Selfishness? I look forward to hearing back from you. In the meantime, have you considered applying to other job options at one of the O'Hare companies?" He handed Once-ler a pamphlet.

Once-ler walked out of the building buzzing with embarrassment. He'd butchered his delivery on his first try. Why was it so easy to sing about Thneeds at his family's farm, in the forest, or the privacy of his wagon? He hadn't expected to start shaking like a leaf the instant he started playing for other people. He needed to practice.

Full story here:

Do you ever feel like life would be easier if you weren't a creative person who was always inspired to do things you're not supposed to be doing?

Chapter 7 (The Wrath of Nature) is up. Excerpt below:

(This specific scene was one of the main reasons I wanted to rewrite the movie).

"If you meant no harm, then why did you put my bed in a river?!"

"I didn't mean harm, my touch was light, a gentle breeze, for the softest flight. I merely meant to float you away, to a land of dreams, to another day."

"ARE YOU STUPID?!" Once-ler exploded. "I FIND THAT VERY HARD TO BELIEVE! OF COURSE THAT WAS A DANGEROUS IDEA! And you're telling me you didn't know there was a waterfall there when you're supposed to be the all-knowing Guardian of the Forest?!"

The Lorax was speechless, caught in his lies. "Remember your promise, I'll hold you to it now. In the river you swore and made a vow."

"I said that because you were threatening my life. Do you really think you've accomplished anything?"

"Hear this important plea, loud and clear," said the Lorax. 'Everyone needs the trees that are here! 'We need the wood,' the voices cry, 'To live and stay, or else we'll die.'"

Once-ler felt a speck of pity when he realized the Lorax really was that dumb. In his simple mind he’d really thought his plan to blackmail Once-ler into a promise was going to guarantee the safety of his sacred Truffula Trees. Typical fey creature.

"Okay, that's it." Once-ler finally grabbed the Lorax by the scruff of his neck. "You've manipulated and tricked me. You've tried to kill me. Let's have this out once and for all. I refuse to be bullied out of this forest. If you can actually give me a logical explanation for why I shouldn't cut down the trees, then I'll stop. How bad can this really be, huh?"

"Fine, have it your way, we'll talk, indeed," the Lorax said. "But know I'm earnest, and please take heed."

"Fine."

Once-ler dropped the Lorax onto a stump, where he stood up straight and cleared his throat. He said in a meaningful voice:

"You think you can chop down whatever you please. But everyone here needs the trees."

"That's too vague," said Once-ler at once. "You have to explain what problem it causes, so we can figure out how to solve it."

"Well," said the Lorax, "my feathered friends have all made nest, in the trees they decided they liked best. You can't impose upon their tweets, and come and steal their cozy retreats."

"Okay," said Once-ler. "Then I just won't cut those ones down."

"Oh, great excuse, I'm sure you know best, but how will you tell which ones have nests?"

"I promise to use my binoculars every time."

The Lorax considered this. "Well, my dear sir, even if that part might be alright, what about the fruit in which Barbaloots delight? This fare is their favorite sweet, juicy treat. They aren't the type of bears that just eat meat."

"Wait," said Once-ler. "There are a bunch of other trees around here that have fruit. So they won't be affected."

The Lorax sighed. "Beyond that, other things are at hand. Trees create fresh air for the rest of the land. Through leaves so frugal, they drink the air, and give it life, don't you even care?"

"Okaaaaay," Once-ler considered. "But counterpoint: there are still lots of other trees and plants around here to contribute to photosynthesis."

"I'm afraid I haven't been explaining this right," the Lorax said frustratedly. "Because the Truffula Trees are a special type. It takes hundreds of years for them to grow. Why waste them on cheap products, I don't know!"

Unfortunately, the insult only distracted Once-ler from his strongest argument.

"Hey, my product is NOT cheap! I put tons of effort into developing it. The Thneed actually took lots of research, and I had to fight and sacrifice a lot—"

"Alright, alright, you're getting offended! This conversation should really be ended. I'm just saying don't waste ancient trees. I don't see why it's so hard to agree…"

(Read the rest on Ao3).

It was really hard not to make the Lorax seem like a psychotic jerk here. I decided to make him into more of an unpredictable fae creature who will show more depth and have his say later.

I wanna try my best to steelman both sides in this, because the movie accidentally made Once-ler the most sympathetic by far. (Though even he didn't go far enough). Gonna give the Lorax his due soon.

The argument was important for me to include here, because the Lorax had no arguments in the movie and only relied on manipulative music.

THANKS FOR 50 KUDOS!!!!!!!!!!!

Because the original had a lot of plot holes and wasn't satisfying.

What to expect:

1. Actually tells the Once-ler's whole story from beginning to end (no Ted)

2. Gives Once-ler more agency and develops his motives beyond "my family made me do it."

3. Includes "You're all going to jail!" scene

4. Animals die/the stakes are raised

5. Logical explanations for why they couldn't just plant more trees or use a ladder, why Once-ler didn't just plant the seed himself, etc.

6. The Lorax is actually significant

7. Characters like Once-ler's dad, Norma, and O'Hare are woven in, but don't steal the spotlight. (Example: Norma isn't an annoying girlfriend who steals the role of the Lorax).

8. NO ANNOYING OCS, MARY SUES, OR STUPID ROMANCES!!!!!!!!!! Just a straightforward, comprehensive narrative of what the movie should've been like.

This entire novel is complete and has been through multiple drafts. If you follow it, you can be sure that it does have an ending and the author knows where it's going with foreshadowing and extra plot twists. Chapters will be released each week.

The Lorax Novelization

Do you ever kinda wish something would exist, so you just decide to make it yourself?

Read here. I release new chapters every week.

Hey, to everyone who followed for the Great Wish Rewrite! Did you know we also rewrote the whole Lorax movie and the completed fic is on Ao3? It fixes the plot holes, gets rid of Ted's interruptions, and actually makes the Lorax significant! You can check it out here!

The Lorax Novelization

Do you ever kinda wish something would exist, so you just decide to make it yourself?

Read here. I release new chapters every week.

Hooray!

Thanks for 20 kudos on my Lorax Rewrite so far. That's the most I've ever gotten on Ao3, since this is the first fic I've actually tried to promote.

Chapter 8 of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite up on AO3!

Read here! Link

When Asha is appointed the people's new fairy godmother, she and Star Boy start a civil war. Magnifico confronts them, and dark magic corrupts him further.

Excerpt: Chapter Eight: Civil War

"What's your opinion of our fairy godmother?"

"Your what?"

"Our fairy godmother. She promised she’s going to give us literally whatever we want."

"And who--"

Just then, Asha flashed across his vision, robed in a flowing lavender cape with a hood, a big pink bow under her chin, the slim, white wand between her fingers, then she disappeared behind a tannery, and Magnifico swore he could hear the star's laugh not far behind her.

"Enough!" he yelled. "Enough. There are too many of you." And he pushed through the flock, then stormed back into his castle.

For the next week, Magnifico busied himself staring into his book, which hypnotised him more and more, and there were less moments when the green subsided from his vision. He barely noticed anything else, until one day when a commotion outside grew especially loud. Through a window, he glimpsed the silhouettes of Asha and Star Boy causing more chaos in the village. Deep furrows carved into his brow, and his eyes narrowed as his mouth turned down into a scowl. He had to do something about them, but his fascination with learning forbidden magic was a distraction. 

Finally the noise became too loud to ignore, and Magnifico snapped his book shut, then crept down from his tower, and, keeping to the shadows, made his way to the town square where his enemies were fooling around. He pressed his back against a pillar, peering around its edge.

Asha twirled through the village with her wand, the sparkles coming out its end trailing in the breeze behind her. She looked determined to use it at every turn. Meanwhile Star Boy, perched nearby on an awning, revelled in the spectacle, egging Asha on with laughter as he clapped. “Go on Asha! Don’t be shy! Make it bigger, reach the sky!”

Asha basked in the attention, giggling as she made a baker’s oven grow to the size of a dragon. The oven roared and shot balls of magma from its chamber with startling rumbles. 

“I only asked for a small upgrade.” Mr. Burphy watched with hands to his forehead as his bakery was caught up in flames.

“Oops! Sorry!” Asha tried fanning away the smoke with her wand, when someone tapped her on the shoulder so she turned.

“Can I have two hundred cupcakes for free?” the spoiled little boy who was now a man asked her.

“You totally can,” she said with her back to the catastrophe, and granted his wish as the bakery’s roof fell in behind her. From the tip of her wand, a poof of cupcakes materialised, each swirled with frosting in every shade of the rainbow, topped with glittering sprinkles. They multiplied rapidly, spilling out into the street, causing an old lady to slip. The young man clapped and cheered as the bakery’s fire was forgotten in the whirlwind of frosting and sprinkles.

Star Boy twirled around a lamppost he’d moved to. “Haha, Asha, what a scene! They’ll never be able to get this clean!”

Magnifico’s frown deepened. In the grip of dark magic, he could care less about the smoke billowing from Mr. Burphy’s bakery or flames licking the edges of market stalls. His focus was entirely on his rivals. Their antics were an affront to his carefully curated image of control. Each burst of confection seemed to mock his authority. Magnifico’s fingers tapped against the pillar as he plotted how he could kill Asha and Star Boy spectacularly in front of everyone. 

Asha scampered towards the other side of town, where a young lass wished for a pet rhinoceros. Her wand waved, and out popped a massive, thick-skinned mammal with a sharp horn protruding from its snout. It promptly started chasing Star Boy, knocking over everything and sending townsfolk running in all directions. The star led it in circles, his chronic snickering encouraging it.

“Okay, not what I intended,” laughed Asha as a young man was almost paralyzed when he was kicked backwards into a wall. She produced a lasso made of sparkles she tried to corral the creature with, but it only entangled a couple peasants who became enchanted, then joined the creature in its dizzying dance.

Finally Star Boy shook the creature off, and floated up beside Asha to cheer, “Well well, look at them go! They are putting on quite a show!” He flew high above the fleeing peasants and ruined buildings, just in time to watch as the statue of King Magnifico got its head knocked off. It fell to the ground where it smashed into a thousand pieces. The once orderly kingdom was a wreck.

By now the entire village gathered to confront Asha, encircling her, all covered in many things from ashes to glitter to pie filling. Some were covered in blood.

“Okay, okay,” Asha shouted over the angry mob, her wand waving frantically to try and undo the mess she’d created. “I’ll fix everything. It’s not that big of a deal. Just give me a second.”

Magnifico, looking around the wall of a smouldering shoe shop, let his lips curl into a smirk. “The entire village gathered into one spot,” he thought. “How convenient.” His grasp tightened around his staff, and he imagined Asha and Star Boy, surrounded by the throng of disgruntled subjects, meeting their end in a climatic show before them all. 

But before he stepped out to reveal himself, he watched curiously as the peasants slipped on frosting and the rhinoceros barreled past, then an even darker grin spread across his face. Why end this when he could plunge the town into even greater disarray, just for the joy of it? Perhaps Asha and Star Boy were on to something. His ungrateful subjects deserved a lesson, and granting wishes could indeed be great fun. With sudden, wicked inspiration, Magnifico decided to join them.

He walked out into plain view. "Ho, ho, ho!” he announced, his voice a booming parody of cheerfulness. “Who’s ready for a wish?”

The townsfolk, momentarily stunned by the sight of their feared king, hesitated, before their eyes lit up with hope, and typically, they immediately forgot he’d recently committed a murder. His subjects ran up to him with gleaming eyes. “I want a dragon!” one squealed. “I wish for a castle!” another called out.

Magnifico’s staff glowed with dark magic as he waved it theatrically. For each wish, he conjured grand manifestations in flashes of green. A dragon with ebony scales and evil eyes appeared, hissing as it coiled around the square, thrashing buildings to splinters with a barbed tail. A castle of shadowy spires rose from the ground, its piercing turrets sending subjects scattering out of their way.

Asha and Star Boy, hanging back, watching the king from the sidelines with open mouths, soon crept forward, their shocked, suspicious expressions melting into ones of excitement. 

“Look at that!” Asha clapped her hands. “Magnifico’s really getting into the spirit!”

Star Boy hovered beside her, a smile splitting his face. “He’s making this a grand display! I’ve never seen wishes done this way!” He flew around the dragon, darting in and out of its coils as it crushed Farmer Finnegan’s garden.

Magnifico’s shoulders shook with laughter as he watched the unrest. Each time a wish was fulfilled, the kingdom was wrecked further. Galloping unicorns with stabbing horns, mountains of gold coins that squashed his subjects, and stupider suggestions still, all executed with poorest judgement.

“This is the best!” Asha turned to Magnifico. “See how sharing is caring? It’s so much fun to make dreams come true.”

Magnifico’s laughter rang louder. The more carnage he created, the more his sense of control returned. But as the evening wore on, his generosity revealed its true cost: a wish for endless sweets resulted in clogged streets, and when a drizzle started, it melted into sticky sugar that ruined everything it touched, so people’s demands turned into abstract contradictions. One woman, caught in the deluge of stickiness, wished loudly, “Only I should be able to make wishes!” at the same time as another man. These pleas warped materiality, so that every time either of them made a wish, their personal reality became disconnected from the rest of the kingdom, fulfilling their desires in isolated loops of their own making.

Matters were convoluted further when Mr. Burphy, desperate to reclaim his bakery, cried out, “All wishes should have good results!” The effect was that everyone began to disbelieve in magic, because things remained the same when no one could define good, let alone understand what was good for them. Subjective wishes couldn’t become objective realities, filling the people with doubt so they began fighting amongst themselves. 

Another woman, driven by desperation, wished to transport herself to a future where she could escape the troubles, but didn't anticipate the consequences when the total matter of the universe, which needs to remain constant, was disturbed by her appearance, causing an anomaly that resulted in a catastrophic explosion when she arrived. Time travel, unlike producing things from thin air, does not simply relocate mass. The more Magnifico’s subjects tried to mend things, the more tangled everything became.

“I wish you’d go somewhere far away!” a disgruntled scrivener, shaking a fist, yelled at Magnifico, so the staff in his hand winked, and with a sputtering pop, the king vanished. Moments later, he reappeared, robes singed. Crystals clung to his hair and clothes and he collapsed to his knees. His vision had narrowed to a pinprick, and he had a feeling in his chest of being crushed that left him gasping for breath. He was scarred from briefly visiting a silicon dimension inhospitable to carbon atoms. “No more wishes!” he barked, slamming his staff into the ground to heal himself from the consequences of travelling there under High-G acceleration.

Finish reading: Link