I know, I know. You've all been brimming with anticipation. May I have a drum roll?
*drum rolls past*
I hate you. Anyway, without further ado, PART 3!
~
So, I began my search for Miss Elphaba. The first and most probable place I went to was the Emerald City Ghetto. Yes, of course Oz has a ghetto! Anyway, I ran into the head honcho down there, an ex Lollipop Guild member. I found out he was called T.J. Hippity-Hop. I gasped, they had authentic urban accents. Whipping out my English to Gangsta dictionary, I attempted to communicate with the urban folk.
"Fo' rizzle, G. How it hangin'?"
T.J. Hippity-Hop replied, "It quick, it quick. What cho' doin' in dis crib?"
"I be lookin' fo' my homie. You down wit' me findin' her?"
"Yo, you betta bounce. I don' know fo' shizzle, but some doo down at da club be sayin' some green chick be tearin' up da hood."
"Where dat?"
"123 Happy Lane. Down there." He pointed out the directions.
"Aiight. Peace."
Success! I had a lead. That "green chick" must have been Elphaba. The green part puzzled me a bit, and I looked it up in my dictionary, but came up blank. With a shrug, I headed for the club, not knowing what to expect.
Indeed. So, I prepared myself to go "clubbing."
Having no idea what this entailed, I grabbed a jacket, some money, and a club.
You take clubs to clubs, right? Too late I thought that maybe I should take a club sandwich instead of a club, but, oh well. Better safe than lying bleeding in a gutter.
How will it turn out? You'll have to wait for next time!
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A Day In The Life Of A Girl Who Lived Life In A Day.
CAUTION: Unauthorized reading of this journal shall cause the everlasting wrath of Demented Genius to be brought down upon you. In this treasure trove of words I will install my deepest thoughts and funny tales.
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