So, there I was, helping to direct the stage version of the wizard of Oz. Let me tell you, directing really makes you get into those characters' heads. After reading that script, I don't know, a million and a half times, I kinda decided if I could, I would really dig deep into their personalities a rewrite several scenes. I didn't manage to do that, but I did write this. Just a insight into how others see the little girl from Kansas.

"Then maybe I'd deserve ya, and be even worthy of ya…"

When Scarecrow had first met Dorothy, he'd seen some sweet little girl who'd been the first person to actually ask him if he wouldn't mind getting down. She'd treated him, stupid, idiotic, ridiculous, him, as though he were an equal. Scarecrow thought that was offly nice of her. See he knew he wasn't as good as regular old people, not having a brain and all, but it was still nice to have someone think about him. Took him quite awhile to realize just how special Dorothy was, but he did see, in time…

"Just because I'm presumin' that I could be kinda human…"

Tinman could remember feelings. The sense of comfort that overwhelmed you as you gazed on someone you cherished, the disgusting sensation that crawled under your skin when you became jealous… he felt dead without them. He wasn't human anymore; he'd traded away humanity with the last of his skin. Yet this little girl had patted his hand and told him she knew how to make things better, as though something of a human still remained in this pathetic tin shell. Something was definitely different about her… her friend the scarecrow was too stupid to realize he should have nothing to do with a heartless disaster like himself, but Dorothy was a complete whole person, who was by no means stupid. What could she possibly see in Tinman? And inviting him to come with her? Surely she must realize he wasn't worth that, and was probably dangerous to be around? Tinman hadn't had any real time to discover what he was like without a heart, having rusted so terribly after it had been removed, but he could only imagine the horrors someone without a heart could cause quite accidentally. He didn't want to hurt anyone! Especially not a sweet little girl like Dorothy. He had decided it wasn't worth the risk, when that awful witch showed up. How dare she threaten Dorothy! How dare she light Scarecrow on fire! It was there and then he decided he had to go with Dorothy. He might not have a heart, but that also meant he was tough as nails, and could defend her to the very end. Besides, something about that little girl warmed him a little inside, made him almost hope… maybe he could get his heart back. Yes, there was definitely something special about that little girl…

"Wouldn't you be ashamed to be in the company of a cowardly lion?"

The first time Lion met Dorothy, he was in a great state of emotional upheaval. One moment he's frightening off intruders, the next he's being yelled at, then suddenly being comforted. It was all a bit too much for him to take, is it a wonder he spilled everything and started bawling like a baby? He just didn't understand this little girl at all. Firstly, his Grandfather's patented kill-em-with-a-sound-roar hadn't scared her a bit. Secondly, she was being nice to him. No one was ever nice to him. Why would they? He was a broken excuse of a life, not worth the effort. People found him annoying, pathetic, and too demanding to be around, and Lion didn't blame them. He didn't want to be around himself, why should anyone else? Yet Dorothy actually invited him to come with her and her friends. Scarecrow didn't think things through, and the Tinman didn't care either way; without a heart he had no feelings on the matter whatsoever- Dorothy, on the other hand, had both a heart and a brain, what was she doing around an old coward like himself? There was just something different about that girl, something special…

"Who would have thought a good little girl like you could have destroyed my beautiful wickedness?"

The Wicked Witch of the West should have seen it coming. Really, she should've. No matter where that little brat went evilness just melted away before her, like it couldn't stand her good and simple being. Not even Glinda, powerful though the big bubble was, had that kind of power. The girl didn't even consciously do anything, it just happened. Hadn't the Witch seen it happen again and again? First with her sister, that in it self was rather ironic. How many times had there been attempts on The Wicked Witch of the East's life by the braver citizens of Munchkinland? Only to be felled by the accidental falling of that little girl's house. It was laughable. The dark forest becoming safe in the company of her three friends; that was Dorothy's doing as well, the Witch was sure of it. And then, when the Witch had really tried her best to destroy the brat…even Glinda shouldn't have been able to destroy her best poppies. Gaining an audience with the Wizard, getting him to actually make a deal? That should not have happened. Not for a nobody farm brat like Dorothy, no matter what shoes she wore. The Witch was also slightly surprised when she discovered just how close to her castle the brat had gotten before the Monkeys had brought her in. There were many unpleasant things in that forest that would just love to nibble on little girl, it was amazing she was alive long enough to be captured, even with her "protectors." Still, even after all of this, the Wicked Witch didn't see it until it was too late. There was something special about that brat… she was inherently good, and it came off her in waves, effecting everything and everyone around her. Even The Wicked Witch fell to that kind of power. Oh what a world…

"I'm not a witch at all. I'm Dorothy Gale, from Kansas."