Queen One-Shots

Queen of Oz (Part Two)

Freddie was quite a ways down the yellow brick road, his excited skipping retreating to a tired walk. Freddie found himself in a place surrounded by one thing and one thing only, corn. Everything about his surroundings was yellow; the road, the corn, and even the hair of a scarecrow that Freddie approached. The scarecrow was very realistic, as it hung limply on the pole it was tied to. It took Freddie a minute to realize who the scarecrow reminded him of.

"Wow," Freddie said in astonishment, standing right in front of the scarecrow. "You look just like Roger."

"Funny," the scarecrow spoke suddenly, lifting up its head, "I don't know the fellow."

Freddie jumped at the sudden and surprising movement of the scarecrow. He remembered the scene from the Wizard of Oz movie, and reminded himself what he was in was most likely a dream.

"You can talk?" Freddie questioned the hanging scarecrow inquisitively.

"Yes," the scarecrow said, "although, I'd rather walk than talk. I'm strung up on this pole, you see."

Freddie found the ropes that held scarecrow Roger in place. "Let me help," Freddie said kindly. Freddie untied the knots until Roger surprisingly fell to the ground.

"I'm alright!" The scarecrow stated, bouncing up to his feet.

"Roger, why are you a scarecrow?" Freddie inquired, tilting his head slightly to the left.

"Roger? I'm Scarecrow!" The scarecrow exclaimed. "But anyway, what're you doing here? Who are you? Are you going somewhere?"

"My name is Freddie Mercury," Freddie stated, holding a hand to his chest. "And I'm going to see the Wizard of Oz!"

Scarecrow's very Roger-y blue eyes lit up at the mention of the Wizard. "May... May I come with you?" He asked nervously.

"Sure, I guess," Freddie sighed with a shrug. "But it's a long journey, are you sure you're up for it?"

"Of course I am!" Scarecrow exclaimed, arms extended. "I need to ask the Wizard for a brain."

"You don't have a brain?" Freddie asked confusedly. "But how do you talk?"

"Some people with no brains talk a lot," Scarecrow replied with a chuckle. There was a slight silence before he threw a question at Freddie. "Why are you going to the Wizard?"

"Oh, I need to be sent back home," Freddie replied, tucking his arms behind his back. "I'm from London, you see. And it's very very important that I return."

Scarecrow hummed in thought. "London... I've never heard of the place. I've never been to the Emerald City before... Oh, I'm so excited!

"Emerald City, the Good Witch of the North told me about that," Freddie sighed, envisioning the face of the Good Witch, who looked like his lovely Mary Austin.

Freddie and the very Roger Taylor-like scarecrow made their way down the yellow brick road. The corn fields fell into the distance as they grew closer to their destination. Time was passed by sharing stories, the main topic being Freddie's incident with the Wicked Witch of the East. Scarecrow had become intrigued by the ruby shoes, which glimmered in the sunlight with every step Freddie took. Freddie would have quite a story to tell when he returned to England.

The pair approached a forest. It seemed light and inviting, as apples hung from numerous branches and squirrels ran about on the ground. Birds flew occasionally from the trees that coated the area, but only one thing seemed out of place in the setting. A silver man, with curls hanging from his head, and an axe in his right hand. He stood frozen, blades of grass twisting around his feet.