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Dead Elvis
Dear Dead Elvis,

I was sitting in the Canteen last night just before midnight with both Glinda the Good and WWW and some other folks, when who should walk in but the Wonderful Wizard himself! Naturally, he gravitated towards Glinda (as wizards will) and began telling her and this Christ-guy (I have no idea what he was doing there. After all, I think the Canteen is generally situated in Hell) all about his recent travels and his numerous technical jobs (sound engineering, special effects, all his usual stuff). 

The Wicked Witch, hanging back, mostly but not completely invisibly, called me over with that strange look of hers and said she had something to tell me.

"What is it?" I asked, and she said it was just a bit of news. 

"What kind of news?" 

"Well, it's both the good news and the bad news."

"What?" I asked again, but then she was watching the Wonderful Wizard and Good Witch with her typical expression of ugly irony. 

"Look at those two," she said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they're acting like a couple of yuppies. I understand Glinda's got a job with an investment magazine. Sheesh...aristocratic jet-setters, the both of them--always were, always will be..."

"Don't be so rude!" I whispered back. "At least they're not evil war-mongers like yourself."

She then gave a little snort through her long green nose and looked at me, looked right at me the way she does, both steadily and invisibly.

"Don't get me wrong, my dear. It all works out more or less the same.  My admiration for your friends just gets said in my own way with my own nefarious means of expression. These are real individuals, who explore the worlds. Maybe I would like to trick them into working with or for some of MY friends, but that's impossible. I think. Ah.  But one never knows for sure...I may get them yet. I got you, didn't I?  Things are definitely looking up. But anyway, let me tell you that news..."

That's all I remember, Dead E. I'm sure she told me what the news was, but I don't recall it at all. I just recall that it was very very bad. ..

What could it have been?

Yours,
Dead Dorothy


Dear Dead Dorothy,

I was wondering. Could the bad news have been that work was progressing well on her potion of forgetfulness? Signed,
Your Pal Dead E.... E.... E something or other.
 



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