Didn't expect to continue this, but didn't expect to get 6 kudos that fast. Join us for a story about the Wicked Witch actually being wicked. A twist on the twist.
Excerpt:
“I don’t read the same thing every day, you know,” Elphaba said, flipping a page. “That's the thing about books. Once you get all the information out of one, then you can get more from another. You should try it sometime."
"Oh, I like reading about poetry, philosophy, and architecture," said Glinda, feeling a stab of irritation at whatever stereotype her roommate was trying to pin on her. "Like I said, I got into Shzzz for my literary merits."
"I'm sure whatever references you made to nursery rhymes were very insightful. But I'm talking about actually familiarizing yourself with our politics and history," said Elphaba. "Tonight, I’m reading some of the speeches from the Codified Chronicles of Ozma’s Reign. I want to accomplish important things, like changing our outdated laws.”
“That sounds interesting," said Glinda. "What kind of laws do you want to change?"
Elphaba let out a long-suffering sigh, as if Glinda couldn't possibly understand the depths of what she was doing. "Well," she said, finally sitting all the way up, and turning to look at Glinda down her crooked nose. She adjusted her glasses. "I think that anyone with green skin should be automatically exempt from having to share a room with anyone. And we shouldn't have to go outside to any social gatherings. The sun, after all, makes us a walking target for sunburns and rain."
"I see."
"Furthermore, I think that anyone with green skin should be legally required to wear a crown. It’s only fair. After all, if we can't blend in, why shouldn't we stand out royally?"
Glinda nodded, only half sure Elphaba was making a joke. "I don't know what to make of what you say sometimes," she admitted. "Why should anyone treat you differently for being green?"
"I think it's actually a superior way of being," said Elphaba. "I'm not like other girls, after all. My brain works completely differently. I read actual books instead of wasting time gossiping about fashion trends or boys."
"We don't really talk about those things," said Glinda, but Elphaba wasn't listening.
"Other girls are too busy looking in mirrors, but I actually look at the world around me. You know, the real world, not just my own reflection."
"I don't think—"
"While other girls are obsessing over how to please people, I’m actually trying to make the world a better place. A bit more ambitious, wouldn't you say? I don’t waste my energy on frivolous things like popularity. I’d rather have intelligence and independence, qualities other girls wouldn’t even know how to handle."
Glinda's eyes fell upon the hat on her nightstand. "I have an idea," she said, going to pick it up. "I may not have a crown for you to wear, but how about this? You don't like flashy things anyway, right? This black hat ought to match the rest of your wardrobe."
"I couldn't wear that, it's not sensible at all!" Elphaba flipped her hair over her shoulder. "It's tall and pointy. Points are childish and shallow."
"You know," said Glinda, "you say you like to be sensible, but I don't think that's really what you want. A blanket that's thin and moldy isn't a sensible choice. Dark raggedy clothes aren't practical for fitting into a school. I think what you're really trying to be is different." She handed Elphaba the hat. "Take it. Then you can really stand out."
Elphaba stared at the black pointed hat in her gnarled green hands. She traced the brim with a long nail, and her mouth twisted thoughtfully. Slowly, she raised it, and set it on her shiny mane of black hair. She shook her head to adjust it, and walked across the room to the mirror.
"I must admit…" she said, after a moment. "I think it actually suits me."
Just then, a gust of wind crashed the window shut, and heavy hailstones banged into the glass. Glinda yelped, and ran to push a table in front of it. "The latch is broken," she said. "Hand me something to fasten it with, Elphie—It's alright if I call you that, isn't it?—Elphie? Elphaba?"
She turned to see Elphaba standing by the window, her eyes wide, hands raised in the air. The storm was swirling around her, but not touching her. She seemed to barely notice it.
"Elphaba, are you—" Glinda started, her voice faltering as she caught sight of Elphaba's expression.
Her fingers twitched as the wind howled louder. A thick, dark cloud began to gather over her head. Little bolts of lightning crackled from it, raising her hair around her pointed hat, like eerie spiderweb threads.
Glinda tripped backwards as Elphaba's hand moved in a sharp motion, and the storm outside obeyed, growing stronger. It was no longer a natural force, but something pulled into motion by Elphaba herself. The wind howled more fiercely, answering her every movement. A flash of lightning illuminated her bright green face as the room started buzzing violently.
"Elphaba!" Glinda shouted, eyes wide. "What’s happening?"
"It's… It's working," murmured her roommate, staring at her hands in disbelief. "Everything I've read… everything I've studied… I can do sorcery." Elphaba lowered her arm, the wind outside dying down in response. The storm ceased, just as suddenly as it had started. She stood motionless for a moment, eyes wide, breathing heavily.
Glinda stared at her roommate, unsure whether to be terrified or amazed. "You did that? With your... your hat?"
"It wasn’t the hat," Elphaba said. "It just awoke something. That was... me."
"Oh…" Glinda covered her mouth with her hands. "I guess you're really not like other girls, after all."
"Quite right." A smirk crept up on her face. "I knew that since I was born." But just as her smugness was reaching unbearable heights, Glinda slipped on a puddle and threw out her hands.
The electric feeling in the room returned more intensely, and rainbows shot out of them, followed by blinding light.
Well, no surprise with the result. I kind of wanted it to be biased though, to prove a point, since a lot of people outside sites like this don't understand.
The problem is when it never stops being fun, and I don't want to do anything else
I love getting to the point that a story is finished and I just keep adding to it, like it's a sketch that I can keep rendering. It's hard to "show instead of tell" every single thing when you have limited time to write a fun fanfiction, but you can easily get sucked into refining it and expanding on things more and more. I don't know how much time I should spend on them if they're just for fun, but it is addicting. Really addicting.
How many drafts do you usually do of your fanfictions? I can't stop re-reading and fiddling with them for at least a few months. I wonder what would happen if I did this for over a year, and how high quality I could get them.
There are so many embellishments you can add. (Connections, foreshadowing, character voice improvements, and just generally adding more interesting detail. And of course cleaning up all the technical things).
I just love how when you have a fully finished story you can always make it better. "I think I'll add some plot twists to make it more interesting." etc. It's like tinkering with a car or something, but even weirder.
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
ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO!!!!! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!!!
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.
Once-ler tries to sell his product in town and meets the Lorax. Excerpt below (read full chapter on Ao3):
It was sticking out from a stump, covered in mossy brown fur. It was the size of a cat, but with the round bean-form of an animal Once-ler had never seen. Its most significant feature was the yellow mustache on its face that was so thick Once-ler had the urge to pick the creature up and turn him upside down to sweep a floor. It positively radiated power and adorableness both at the same time. It pulled itself up and looked him in the eye.
The foot of the creature tapped expectantly.
Once-ler straightened his grey business vest and hat. "Can I help you… sir?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, if I gave you a surprise." The creature didn't sound sorry at all. "But I think you earned the shock in your eyes. You're up to mischief, best confess. Your secret plot, your sneaky mess."
"What am I doing wrong? You mean trying to make a living? Why is everyone here so against that?" Once Once-ler started ranting, he found he couldn't stop. “At least I actually have some ingenuity. Why is that a bad thing? My family was like that too. Don't we need inventions and new ideas to keep the world going? How are people supposed to support themselves, huh? Just by working for the O'Hares, and that's it?"
"You have a point, it's true, I see. Your words hold weight, are error free. But mind your manners, and do beware, lest your sharp wit makes you an O'Hare."
Once-ler flushed. "Well, maybe you should all stop assuming that every stranger who tries something new around here is exactly like an O'Hare." He tipped his hat stiffly, and turned away.
"Hey, you're alright, don't you fret. A nice, amusing chap, I won't forget. Ambition burns, inspiring, bright, but heed my words, and do what's right. Two paths I see, a heavy choice. One leads to glory, a tempting voice. The other path is a conscience clear, but it all depends which way you steer."
"Amusing, huh? Well, I think you're annoying," Once-ler grumbled, and grabbed Melvin's leash.
The creature kept up with Once-ler's long legs at a surprisingly quick pace as it stroked its mustache. "The Lorax am I, my voice is always near. I've been watching this place, year after year. The trees and beasts, they're my sacred domain. The forest's my charge, and I'll watch over it again." It darted in front of him and stuck out its spindly hand.
Once-ler stared at the long curling fingers before hesitantly giving them a shake. "Once-ler."
"Once-ler, that's a name so odd. What could it mean, I'd love to prod. Is it a title, a moniker grand? Or a label that I can understand?"
"It means I never make a mistake more than once," said Once-ler. "Because my Ma said she wishes she hadn't.”
"And what was the woman's misstep I wonder, that gave her son such a name to ponder?"
(Full novelization on Ao3. We're going to make a bunch of high quality rewrites of movies that had too many plot holes).
Do you ever kinda wish something would exist, so you just decide to make it yourself?
Read here. I release new chapters every week.
Whenever I think my stories are done, I keep ending up adding more scenes that fit really well. Honestly I feel like I could make some of these rewrites into novels the length of Harry Potter (which I would actually really want to exist). I guess I'm just gonna go with it and see how long it turns out.
Super late post today, but here it is! THIS PART IS THE MOST SAD. The movie didn't make enough consequences for his actions.
Excerpt:
"How've you been, sir? Are you doing well, Mr. Once-ler?" a forlorn voice asked.
Once-ler spun around. "You?!”
The Lorax didn't say anything for a while. The sound of rain over the balcony grew heavier as the storm rumbled behind him.
"Just came to look at the view. You've accomplished a lot, haven’t you?"
Once-ler backed away at the sound of thunder as the Lorax entered the office. The mossy old creature hopped onto his desk to stare at the model city. His torso was matted and streaked with grease. Wiry hairs stuck out from his mustache and eyebrows like bent broom bristles. The fur that had once had an attractive orange sheen was all brown now, caked with dirt, and had a damp, washed-out look. The Lorax might have been a chewed up jelly bean that had been spat back out.
"The Virtue of Selfishness," the Lorax read the title of one of Once-ler's books, stroking his mustache. "Lessons we could all learn from, I'd guess."
"You know what? I don't want to hear from you right now!" Once-ler yelled. "All you do is say everything is bad, and I'm really sick of it." He seized the Lorax and hoisted him under his arm, ignoring the creature's protests.
"It's not just the trees I'm trying to save,” the Lorax’s voice cracked, “but you, from digging your own grave."
Once again, the door wouldn't open when Once-ler tried it, and the alarm wouldn't go off when he pulled it. But he wasn’t going to be defeated. He carried the Lorax to the balcony and held him at arm's length. The Lorax hovered over dark hills that had been uniformly sheared—bristly white stumps where once had been trees dotted the shaved hills of dead grass. Advanced axe-hackers rolled by like monsters, searching for more wood that they couldn't find, before wheeling away to look deeper into the mist.
"Are you going to kill me?" asked the Lorax.
"I know you're causing the storms," growled Once-ler, shaking him. "The thunder that never stops, the lightning that strikes my tower. And all the clouds that have that same purple hue as when…" He trailed off, remembering the first tree he'd cut down, when he'd first seen the Lorax come out of the sky.
If it wasn't for that day, he'd have believed the Lorax was no more than a funny animal like the Barbaloots or humming-fish, with a higher cognitive level and more annoying voice box. But it had been the sight of him that day, coming out of the sky with a terrible look in his eyes, that, as much as he tried to forget, made Once-ler secretly terrified he really was a deity.
His hands trembled as the Lorax's beetle black eyes bored into his, suddenly looking very old and very powerful. Once-ler wondered if it was even possible for the Lorax to die. “Whatever you're doing, I want you to stop it. Right now," he growled, not recognizing his own voice. With each word, he leaned closer over the edge of the balcony.
"Why?" asked the Lorax. "You don’t seem to care how your own actions are fouling the air."
"Yer rusting up my factory. We got work to do. I’m the one in the legal right here. So make it stop." His face was close enough to feel the Lorax’s mustache.
The Lorax chuckled at this, legs dangling over the parapet. "Laws and codes, written by man. What have they to do with nature's plan? What have they to do with morals or your soul? Are laws the things that define all your goals?" His long, spindly hand slowly reached out and grabbed his tie.
Before Once-ler knew it, they were both falling. Through wind and rain they plummeted as the storm thickened. Soon a churning mist concealed everything around them as they tumbled through a funnel of purple clouds, a passage that went on much longer than Once-ler knew it should have.
As they spun round and round, reality evaporated. It was as if Once-ler was melting into the Lorax and the Lorax was melting into him, until nothing but a haze of orange and green remained. Then they unconnected, plunging their separate ways.
Once-ler's spine cracked against a pipe, and he bounced onto the black, dry riverbed where water no longer ran. His head spun; reality had not gone quite back to normal. Somehow they had survived the fall as if it had been merely from a playground, rather than half a mile from the tallest building in the city. His back, however, would never be quite the same. Sharp pains when he attempted to straighten himself told him it had been fractured.
The Lorax was standing on a rock, eyes aglow, fixed on his enemy. An army was growing around him of bloodied, skeletal birds missing patches of feathers, a few crinkled fish that had been too weak to leave, and the ghostly Barbaloots that hadn't died yet.
Once-ler choked, and limped behind a rock. "I don't want any trouble," he pleaded.
The Lorax gave a slight nod to the army behind him, and they marched somberly back into the gray expanse. As they trailed away, single file, Once-ler knew in his heart they were marching to their deaths. At the end of the line he spotted an animal he hadn't thought of in a long time. His old friend, Melvin.
"Hey…!" He crawled up to the trembling old animal that fell to the ground. Melvin put his head in Once-ler's lap. His coat was thin and sooty, breaths slow and tired. The eyes that met his master's were filled with sadness that slowly dimmed into an empty stare as his head slumped to the ground.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3~!
(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.
Just two writers who like to rewrite stories either to make them better or for an experiment.
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