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The Hung Woman Of OZ free porn video
The four travelling companions introduced themselves to the giantess,
Dorothy and then the others all shaking her large hand. The woman smiled
shyly, "I'm Joan Jones."
"That's a peculiar sort of name," said The Tin Woodsman.
Sheepishly, Joan removed the noose from around her neck and said, "To
some around here I'm known as The Hung Woman."
Despite her gentle demeanor the Cowardly Lion felt intimidated by the
sheer size of her. He stammered, "But whuh-why do they call you a hung
woman if you h-haven't hung yourself yet?"
"And shouldn't that be 'hanged woman'?" asked the Scarecrow, scratching
his head.
Big Joan sighed and lifted the front of her skirt for them.
"ARF!" said Toto.
OR SO GOES ONE VERSION OF THAT FIRST MEETING WITH THE HUNG WOMAN OF OZ.
ACCOUNTS VARY WIDELY BETWEEN THE VARIOUS MEMOIRS WRITTEN BY DOROTHY AND
THE OTHERS, AS WELL AS THE FOURTEEN BOOKS PENNED BY THE "OFFICIAL
HISTORIAN OF OZ" MR. L FRANK BAUM, NOT TO MENTION THE CHARMING (IF
HOPELESSLY SANITIZED) 1939 FILM VERSION. AND SO WHILE I AM HESITANT TO
CALL ANYONE A LIAR, I SERIOUSLY DOUBT THAT JOAN WOULD HAVE SO READILY
FLASHED THOSE ANATOMICAL BITS THAT WERE SUCH A SOURCE OF SHAME AND
ANGUISH FOR HER.
MS. JONES WILL BE JOINING US SHORTLY, BUT LET'S START THIS TALE A FEW
MILES BACK DOWN THE FAMOUS YELLOW ROAD, AT A PART THAT YOU'LL PROBABLY BE
MORE FAMILIAR WITH...
After the encounter with the fearsome Lion, who turned out to be not at
all fearsome but in fact quite cowardly, it was resolved. He would join
Dorothy and her two new friends on their journey to the Emerald City, in
hopes that the mighty wizard who dwelled there would be able to provide
him with some courage. Each of them had something to ask of the Great Oz-
Dorothy needing some means of getting back home to Kansas, while the
others each found themselves incomplete in some way, and were hoping that
this wizard fellow could make them whole.
So with newfound hope in their hearts they all linked arms and took off
skipping down the Yellow Brick Road, singing:
"Help I'm a rock!
Help I'm a rock!
Help I'm a rock!
Help I'm a rock!
Help I'm a rock!
Help I'm a rock-"
(For by now they had tired of that 'Off to See the Wizard' song with all
its annoying because, because, because, becauses, and they were working
their way through the Frank Zappa Songbook...)
A few miles further down the road they stopped singing. They were all
quite tired and out of breath, having discovered that skipping is not the
most energy-efficient mode of travel there is.
Also their very surroundings seemed to discourage frivolty, for as
forests in tales like this often will, the part of the woods they found
themselves in had taken on a very dark and sinister cast, the trees all
scowly and misshapen, the fake ravens stuck to their branches swivelling
their their heads back and forth as if to say: "Poor bastards, they're
done for now!"
Even the benign enchantment of the road they travelled on---which would
keep a traveller safe as long as they didn't step off of it---did little
to assuage their fears as they made their way through The Big Scary
Forest.
But presently the woods grew even more ominous. For while it was no
longer dark---the grayish yellow sky overhead was now plainly visible---
this was because every tree for as far as they could see had been
demolished. Not chopped down neatly like a tin woodsman might do, but
violently smashed, reduced to piles of branches and dry foliage, their
dead jagged stumps sticking up like the remains of rotten teeth. What
terrible mad beast had wreaked this carnage, and why?
"Maybe it's a tyrannosaurus," suggested the Tin Man, his metal knees
clanging together loudly.
"Maybe it was a pack of deranged woodchucks," theorized The Scarecrow,
"Trying to settle the eternal woodchuck question..."
"I h-hope it's not a chuh-chuh-chuh-chupacabra!" quailed the Cowardly
Lion, glancing around in fright.
Whatever it was, they were about to find out. For from ahead of them came
an immense CR-R-R-RACK!!! of shattering wood, followed by an unearthly
anguished wail, and then a minute or so later there was another terrible
CRACK!; and another scream.
The Lion decided that he didn't really need courage after all and wanted
to go back the way they came, but the others got behind him---blocking
his way---and started pushing him toward the source of the noise. They
rounded the bend in the trail...
To see a rather ordinary woman in an old-fashioned calico dress.
Ordinary, that is, except for the fact that she was by far the largest
woman any of them had ever seen (she wouldn't fit inside an ordinary
sized room without stooping over) and bore an uncanny resemblance to the
actor John Goodman.
She was standing on a treestump. From the heavy branch of another tree
right next to her dangled a rope with a hangman's noose at the end.
Sighing miserably she stuck her head into the noose.
"OH NO!!!!" cried the four friends, and went running to stop her as she
stepped off the tree stump and dropped, the noose pulling tight around
her neck.
But as with her previous 513 attempts, the stout branch above her
snapped---CRACK!!---and she landed on her rear end on the ground.
"Ohmygosh!" cried Dorothy, "What are you DOING?!"
"What does it look like I'm doing, genius? Now go away and let me kill
myself!"
"Oh no, you mustn't talk like that! Killing yourself is stupid. Life is
too precious to just throw away," crowed Dorothy (At which the lion, the
scarecrow and the tin man exchanged knowing and uncomfortable glances...)
The Lion asked the woman, "What could possibly be so bad that you'd want
to do that?"
"Believe me, you don't want to know..."
"Yes we do," said the Tin Woodsman, "Maybe we can help."
"I seriously doubt that," sighed the oversized woman as they all helped
her to her feet, "But do you really want to hear it?"
Dorothy said, "Of course we do! And maybe you'll feel better if you talk
about whatever's wrong. Sometimes it helps to share your problems with
friends."
The giantess removed the noose from around her neck, and said
skeptically, "You're my friends, huh?"
"We'd like to be," declared Dorothy, and the others made noises of
agreement.
"That's sweet, but I've heard that before, from people that when they
find out who, and what I am..... suddenly they're not so friendly. But
sure, I'll tell you. And then maybe you won't feel so helpful, and will
leave me alone and let me finish this. Or let me try to. I'm such a screw
up, I can't even seem to kill myself! Although I sure did a number on
these poor trees," she sighed, waving a hand at the demolished forest
around them.
"Whatever it is, it can't possibly be that bad," said the Kansas farm
girl and stuck out her hand, which the woman shook, "I'm Dorothy..."
"And we're all friends of Dorothy," smiled the Tin Woodsman.
"I'll bet you are," said the giantess, and shook hands with the Tin Man,
the Lion and the Scarecrow as each introduced himself.
"And this little fellow is Toto," said Dorothy as her dog trotted boldly
up to the woman.
"Hello Toto. Oh you're so CUTE!" tittered Joan, who despite her
determination to be suicidally depressed found herself being won over by
the friendly pup, who was doing a frenetic little dance, sort of curling
himself around her lowered hand and luxuriating in the feel of her long
nails sliding down his furry side...
He knew it was petty, but the Cowardly Lion felt a pang of jealousy. Why
didn't anyone ever pet him like that? Why couldn't he just be a housecat
that some nice lady would feed and take care of? He'd bring her the
occasional mouse (if it wasn't a particularly fearsome one) and spend his
days curled up in her lap as they listened to THE GREEN HORNET and FIBBER
McGEE & MOLLY on the Philco, instead of all this 'Monarch of the Forest'
nonsense, to which he felt so ill-suited and was only attempting to
please his rather tyrannical and prone-to-roar father. He asked her, "And
do you have a name?"
"Oh yes, my name. With me even that's a problem..... The Vegemites and
the Fingerlings call me The Hung Woman, but I'd prefer you call me Joan.
Joan Jones."
"That's a peculiar sort of name," said The Tin Woodsman.
"My family would agree with you. My father Jack, my mother Jill, my
brothers Jimbo, Jack Jr. and Jumbo Jack, they all still insist on calling
me John. Or at least they did the last time I saw them, quite a few years
ago..."
"Why did they call you that?"
"Because that was the name they gave me at birth. You see, I was born-"
there was a drumroll as the travellers all looked at her expectantly for
several seconds, and when it ended she announced, "a boy!"
Instead of the gasps Joan was expecting, her new friends seemed to take
this in stride; the Scarecrow saying, "Oh is that all? You mean a witch
changed you into a girl? I've heard about that happening. It's nothing to
be ashamed of."
"Oh how I wish a witch would do that! I've wished it all my life. I went
to every witch and leprechaun and two-bit shaman I could find around my
village. They either couldn't help me or ask for way too much money to
turn me into a real girl. And then when my family found out their son was
seeking out these magicians, and that I had this terrible ...... this
wish, they kicked me out, exiled me to live out here in The Big Scary
Forest," she said, and indicated the dress she was wearing, "It's some
small comfort that I can dress the way I want, the way that feels right,
but this isn't real. I'm stuck like this. A fake, a fraud, a humbug
woman..."
"But you have boobies," said the Scarecrow, "Nice ones!"
"These? You like them?" said Joan, smiling a bit vainly despite herself,
"They're really mushrooms of a very special sort. According to my
Wogglebug friend, who is both thoroughly educated and highly magnified,
they are of the species Brestiformis Decupus, which grow way down in the
Upsidasium mines. They stick right on and never come off, splicing right
into your circulatory nervous systems until they're a regular part of
you..."
"Like a parasite," said the Scarecrow with distaste.
"It seems symbiotic enough to me," grinned Joan Jones, looking down at
her chest, then she sighed, "But unfortunately it seems that nowhere in
this four-color realm is there anything that can help someone like
me..... down below. Below the waist I'm stuck with what nature inflicted
on me. I suppose the gods and goddesses of Oz have their reasons, and
perhaps the agony of this false existence---and the scorn I face from my
family and nearly everyone I meet---is meant to to teach me something.
But I wish..... I just wish..."
And as the orchestra swelled behind her she began to sing:
"I oft lay awake nights thinkin',
How my life wouldn't be so stinkin,
if I only had a womb...
My depression and my sorrow,
might all be gone tomorrow,
If I only had a womb!
"Though I'm quite female in spirit,
there are those who just won't hear it
Since I haven't got a womb...
They're far meaner than they'd have to be
And won't let me use the proper lava'try
Cause I haven't got a womb!
"I'd be Sabina and not Sporus,
With that labia and clitoris
at the entrance to my womb...
Should my 'outtie' become an 'innie',
I could proudly shout, 'C'est fini!'
If I only had a womb!
"My mood would be the chipperest
If I by chance became viviparous,
Like a wombat or racoon;
And should I ever find a lover,
I know I'd make the finest mother-"
"Yes, well," interrupted Dorothy, bringing the unseen orchestra to a
sudden halt, "We're kind of in a hurry here. We want to get out of the
Big Scary Forest by nightfall. We're headed to the Emerald City to see
the mighty Wizard who lives there."
"Wizard?" asked Joan.
"Yes, I'm going to see if there's any way he can get me back home to
Kansas. Or Cancun, I haven't quite decided."
"And I'm going to ask him about getting me a heart!"
"And some cuh-cuh-cuh-courage."
"And a brain for me," the Scarecrow added, then he had an idea, "Say,
maybe you can come along with us. I'll bet the Wizard can give you your
womb!"
"By golly, that's a swell idea!" said the Tin Woodsman brightly, "He
seems to have all kinds of spare body parts laying around."
"Hmmmmm," mused Joan, "Yes I'd heard of this great Wizard. But I figured
it was just a story."
"Oh it's no story," said Dorothy earnestly, "Honest Injun! Glinda the
Good herself told me he's for real."
"She did? Glinda said that?"
Dorothy's friends all chimed in with things like "Yes, Ma'am!" and
"Absotively posilutely!", apparently forgetting that none of them had
been there with Dorothy at the outset of her journey. What was important
to them was that they believed her story...
"Well heck," shrugged Joan, "Who am I to argue with a grown woman dressed
as a schoolgirl, a Batman villian, a thing like a steampunk cyborg and a
bipedal lion with a zipper down his back? All right, let's go!"
And they all set off skipping, singing:
"A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta...
A little green rosetta-"
When suddenly, just around the next bend, Joan Jones cried out, "Look!
It's the Wizard!"
They all skidded to a stop. There across a small field stood a fiberglass
tree with a small store built into a hollow in its base. A rather seedy
looking old man with a long beard leaned in there in its open door,
dressed in what seemed to be a tattered bathrobe. A crudely painted
wooden sign above the shop's doorway read: SPELLS R US.
The Scarecrow smirked, "What's he the wizard of, dyslexia? The R is
backward!"
"Looks like a humbug wizard to me," added the Tin Woodsman.
The supposed wizard removed the toothpick he'd been chewing on and called
out, "Hello Joan, I've been expecting you..."
That's all it took. She went running across the grass toward the
establishment.
"But that's not the Wizard! The Wizard lives in the Emerald City,"
shouted Dorothy.
Joan called back to them, "You go to your wizard, I'll go to mine!"
The Lion called out that he might be dangerous and offered her his can of
pepper spray, but she either didn't hear or was ignoring him.
And maybe for her this really was the Wizard, and the solution to all her
woes. For you can generally trust the background music in these
situations, and as she ran from out of nowhere a chorus of optimistic
female voices began singing perkily, all sweetness, joy and hope:
"Youre out of the woods you're out of the dark you're out of the night,
Step into the sun, step into the light;
Keep straight ahead for the most glorious place on the face of the earth
or the sky!
Hold onto your breath hold onto your heart hold onto your hope...
March up to that gate and tell it open, Open! OPEN!"
Then she and the old coot in the bathrobe disappeared into the shop, and
Dorothy and her companions trucked off into their next adventure along
the Yellow Brick Road.
(The SRU Wizard appears courtesy of Bill Hart's SPELLS R US universe...)
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