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.
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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
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Excerpt: Chapter Five: A Mysterious Light
That night, the king did the same thing he did after every Wish Ceremony, and sought solace in his observatory to avoid those who felt badly done by, and because he could not face their tears.
"How I long for simpler times," he said to himself, "when my only concern was learning the names of stars." He remembered a peasant who’d once told him he was so devastated at his chance to have his wish granted being pulled out from under him, that after that ceremony, he could not whistle again for a whole week.
The king moved to a nearby shelf lined with books, and pulled out a weathered volume, its spine cracked and pages yellowed. He flipped through its diagrams and notes, seeking to distract himself, before his gaze wandered to an ornate clock on the wall, its hands ticking steadily.
“Midnight,” he realised, “in just a few seconds. It is still very early in the night.”
He shut the book, and no sooner had he lifted it to put it back on the shelf, than a blinding light cracked across the sky, and the hopeful hum of the wishes ceased inside his Wish Chamber.
“What?”
Magnifico burst into the chamber. “No. It cannot be.” He found the wishes quaking like leaves, not dancing, but dimming, and some even rolled across the floor like mere balls of pigskin. No warm glow greeted him, and the air in the chamber hung cold around him. “What has happened here?” He rushed to the room’s centre, gazing up at the terrible sight.
Finish reading: Link
Excerpt 2:
Something tall and green swayed under the beating sun. If one looked closely, they might have thought it was a preying mantis or circus performer. Some might have even said it looked like a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole stuffed in greasy green alligator skin.
The truth was that it was an old man who was a particular shade of green standing over a sprout. The only other color he wore was in the form of an extremely fluffy pink scarf. It was a good thing he didn't need food anymore, and when he slept, just sat down on the tree stump behind him. Each morning, he would stand up before the sun, so that when it rose, its light would be filtered through him.
The old man could be observed following this routine for exactly eight months, a young boy bringing him supplies every so often.
There were moments when the old man feared they were losing the battle. A week of cloudy skies meant no sunlight at all, and the young sprout drooped as if in despair. "Patience," the boy would say, reminding Once-ler of the very lesson he was still learning. "Patience, and we’ll get there."
When a sudden frost threatened to kill the sapling, Once-ler and the boy worked through the night, covering it with their own bodies and whatever scraps they could find. "We’re so close now," the boy whispered, teeth chattering. "It can’t all be for nothing."
The routine of watering the seed with butterfly milk every four hours, even through the night, began to wear on Once-ler’s frail body. His old bones creaked and his muscles burned. But he didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop. Each drop of milk was like a promise—a promise to the Lorax, to himself, and to the valley he’d betrayed.
Things continued this way until the sprout grew into a sapling of three feet. Then the job was complete. Although it wouldn't be a full grown Truffula for at least a hundred years, it was at least likely to survive till then. And if it didn't… Well, a hundred other sprouts had a fighting chance.
Crackling lights filled the sky, akin to a firework show or the northern lights. If one squinted they could see an orange speck growing bigger and bigger in their midst.
Once-ler turned his eyes up, and smiled.
Their presence was subtle at first—a rustle in the underbrush, a distant hum, the flutter of wings in the fading light. Then an array of creatures emerged from the fog, their steps dissolving the smog as they went.
Birds of vibrant plumage like orange peacocks soared overhead, leaving blue streaks in the gray. Sunlight poured through their trails, anointing the earth in gold where snails crawled on their bellies and toads walked on their hind legs. A butterfly with spots like a cow alighted Once-ler's shoulder, and the old man smiled.
Where ancient trees had once stood tall, the barren landscape was suddenly filled again with life. Colorful rabbits and squirrels scurried through the underbrush, while elk roamed the open field. A reddish bear the size of a child's toy wrapped its arm around Once-ler's leg and purred as the humming-fish sang in a soothing choir.
It would take a long time, longer than Once-ler would live, until the valley was fully back to the way it had once been. But it would be someday. The boy who looked like Once-ler would be able to appreciate it soon enough. He had never asked what his name was…
A throat cleared itself behind him. Once-ler turned around to look at the Lorax whose feet hung over the UNLESS stones where he was seated.
"Thank you for restoring the light. Where once was dark, now all is bright. While time rolled on, seeds were sown. A whisper of hope is being grown. Thank you, my friend, for starting anew. Truth be told, I missed you too."
THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE WHO READ THIS, LEFT KUDOS, COMMENTS, BOOKMARKS, ETC!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THE GREAT LORAX REWRITE IS FINALLY COMPLETE!
Excerpt:
He spent his days staring at the tally marks he'd scratched into the walls. They sprawled unevenly, some deep gouges, others mere scratches. He counted them again and again, fingers tracing the jagged lines, as he mumbled under his breath. "One... two... three... four..." His voice faltered and he started over. "One… two… thr—no, wait." He could only pray his count remained slightly accurate as the years went by.
Once he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of green in the broken shard of metal that hung from the wall. He whipped his head around, only to see his own reflection glaring back at him. But it wasn’t him—it was that other him. The green, twisted version, eyes hollow and black like two bottomless pits.
"What do you want?" he whispered. "Why won’t you just leave me alone?" The reflection only smiled, a slow, creeping grin before crawling slowly away.
At night, the walls breathed. That’s what it sounded like to Once-ler—a long, wheezing inhale, a brittle exhale. The wind rushed through the gaps with ghostly arms that reached for him. He woke up, shivering, convinced he heard humming-fish singing just outside.
"Hush! Quiet, they’re back!" he whispered to himself. Pressing his ear to the walls, the cold metal bit into his skin. All he heard was the wind. He slumped back down, knees pulled to his chest. "They were here," he murmured, rocking back and forth. "I know they were here…"
Desperate for routine, every morning, Once-ler reached for the rope he’d rigged to a bucket. It wasn’t for food or water—those needs had faded—he pulled it up just to see if the world had sent him something, anything. Most days, it came up empty, swinging in the breeze like a useless pendulum. Once or twice, he found a few broken pieces of old advertisements. He kept them, not because they were useful, but because they were better than nothing.
The gloves fused to his hands were another enemy he could never beat. They itched and burned, the skin underneath painful and raw. He scratched at the seams until his fingers bled, trying to tear them off. However, the fabric wouldn’t budge. "Get it off, get it off!" he screamed. He tore at his flesh until exhaustion took him.
The days twisted and knotted together into an indecipherable net, ensnaring him. Once-ler sat in his corner, and all he could think was, "Willingly. I chose all of it willingly."
He wondered if the Lerkim would be his tomb. Or if, by some cruel twist of fate, he’d live forever within its rusted walls, alone with the ghosts of choices that could never be unmade.
The only other thing left to do was the thing he did most of all: Contemplate the meaning of the stones. "Unless." Unless what? he wondered.
Unless he changed his ways?
Unless he somehow escaped?
Unless he said he was sorry?
Unless the humming-fish had been trying to warn him?
Unless the Truffula trees were still out there, watching?
Unless the wind has been whispering the answer all along?
Unless his reflection knew the truth and he didn’t?
Unless the rain spoke a language he couldn't hear?
Unless the Lorax never left and was invisible?
Unless everything that was happening was a dream?
"Unless," Once-ler whispered again, as his brain overheated with puzzlement. "Unless... I was never meant to understand."
(Read the rest on ao3).
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I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS DONE! For over I a decade I would see people complain about this movie and how it could be better. I would see posts about how people were going to rewrite it, but they never really did beyond summaries. Now I've finally finished this, so my life is complete. This is the longest fanfiction that I took the most seriously finishing. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. that I didn't know if it would get.
Me and my coauthor on this account are hoping to create more rewrites after this. Currently, we're almost done with the first draft of a rewrite of Disney's Wish. We're aiming to start releasing it around Christmas, depending on how things go.
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS STORY! Please let me know if you have any feedback about how you liked this rewrite. We'll take it into account for how we handle rewrites in the future.
Once-ler turns evil. Gets dark at the end. Read the whole thing on Ao3. Excerpt:
It was nice when he could get a second guitar without even thinking about it. Perhaps even nicer than it would have been to someone who didn't have heartbreaking memories of always being told his parents couldn't afford a good one for him. After all, hadn't it been just the other day he'd asked for one on his eighth birthday in front of the music store window and gotten tears in his eyes when his dad told him no?
He didn't have any memories of clothes-shopping as a child either. All he'd gotten was hand-me-downs for short people from his church's charity drives. Surely other people had always gotten measured at tailors to get jackets and trousers of the highest quality to fit them perfectly. This, of course, justified the exorbitant bill when he bought a new designer wardrobe complete with extra tall top hats in his favorite black and bright green colors.
It turned out, the world was full of things he'd never been able to appreciate before he'd had money:
Clothes, drinks, cars, trips, events. There were so many more opportunities when you weren't just a poor helpless urchin…
He would never go back to being poor. Never. He was even worse than his Ma, after a short time.
"Oncie, don't ya think maybe we could take a day off to have a family picnic and celebrate the end of summer like in the old days?" she said to him one day.
Once-ler looked up from the photos he was studying for a new billboard advertisement. He'd almost settled on what he thought was a charismatic picture of himself with his arms spread wide and an eye-popping grin on his face, though Brett had remarked it made him look rather possessed.
"Ha!" He slammed down the photos. "You mean the old days when we were poor and miserable? Why don't we take the whole week off and have a real party? Or better yet, a month-long tropical vacation?"
His Ma blinked. "Sounds real nice, honey, but who's gonna run the company? Didn't you just get back from a cruise? Ain't ya gettin' just a little too extravagant these days?"
"Who cares? I'm rich! We got a million employees now. Besides I deserve it cuz of all the sufferin' I went through before."
This excuse got less impressive by the day as Once-ler's new luxuries quickly outweighed any misery he'd previously endured. His identity as a lower class citizen faded even more quickly from his own memory and personality than it did into the past.
"I'm so glad that in the last year I was finally able to discover the real me," was something he'd told everyone in his family more than once since they'd returned. It never occurred to him that what he meant was: "I'm so glad I finally have money to do whatever I want without any consequences."
***
2nd excerpt:
"I just wanted to tell you, the Barbaloots are dying."
Something got through the iron-clad self absorption that had enclosed Once-ler for the last few months. He was surrounded by terrible people all the time now, but when harm fell upon innocent creatures, it was different. He remembered the little Barbaloot that had given him a hug after the fiasco in the river.
"What do you mean dying? How can they be… Surely they're not actually dying ?"
"There was something in the water that made 'em sick. Something from your factory that set in quick. It's making 'em not move and lay around. And some of 'em…" There were tears in the Lorax's eyes. "Some of 'em ain't gettin' up from the ground."
READ THE FULL THING ON AO3!!!
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.
IF YOU HAVEN'T STARTED READING NOW, IT'S JUST GETTING TO THE FUN PART!
Excerpt:
As the meetings became more frequent, the character he had invented started to take on a life of its own. It was no longer just a way to get through the day. He would slip into his green suit, the color of money, and with it, would transform into someone else entirely. His voice would change—louder, more charismatic, filled with a confidence that didn’t quite belong to him. His handshake would be firmer, his smile broader, his laugh just a bit too loud.
Brett, Chet, and Gizette, who had seen the transformation firsthand, started calling him “Greed-ler” behind his back. They found the whole thing hilarious, completely different from the brother they knew. Gizette doodled pictures of Greed-ler on scraps of paper, turning him into a cartoon character with exaggerated features and dollar signs in each eye.
It wasn’t long before Greed-ler became more than just a private joke. The image of the green-suited CEO with a maniacal grin spread throughout the company, and soon, it wasn’t just his siblings drawing cartoons of him. Employees began to share these drawings, and Greed-ler started popping up in more official places—on company newsletters, posters, even merchandise. What began as a role to get through the day turned into the official mascot of Thneeds Inc.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3!
This chapter is a little longer because I want to take my time showing how Once-ler's personality devolves. I've also never seen any writing about what an average day at the company would be like. As I go through the whole movie, I want to thoroughly explore every last thing like this for once. There really is more than a novel's worth of potential in this story, if it's given its due.
Also, instead of always making Once-ler doubtful about his family's selfishness, I wanted it to be clear he was joining in with them and being an equally terrible or worse person. This is key to making the story work and have a more powerful lesson.
Hey guys, here's the beginning of the fanfiction I'm writing on Ao3. The aim is to tell Once-ler's whole story from beginning to end without Ted interrupting. There are four chapters up so far, and a lot more to come:
"Where is it? Where did you put my guitar?"
Once-ler smacked his head as he looked under the triple bunk bed he was forced to share with his brothers in their small house.
"Reckon if ya don't get out there n' chop some trees, I'll let Brett n' Chet smash that dang guitar for good!" his Ma's voice called from the kitchen.
His younger twin brothers and sister laughed from the dinner table.
"Hurry up n' get more money from yer wood," Brett complained. "We only got three potatoes in our stew today, n' they're smaller n' ping pong balls."
"Yeah, an' none for you, Oncie," said Gizette. "I get the last one!"
"Why can't I ever have any of the stew if I'm always the one earnin' the money?" Once-ler tripped out of their closet-like bedroom, and squeezed around the table through the equally cramped dining area. This was made even harder by his abnormal height; he always had bruises on his knees and elbows from being such a tall person in such a small house.
Before him sat his shorter, but equally ungainly family, squished around the table: his mother with her teased up hair balanced by a bow, in her patched polka-dot sweater while serving brown stew water, the twins Brett and Chet with ripped up overalls and squashed hats who were staring eagerly at two tiny potatoes on their plates, and the youngest "baby" Gizette with ratty hair, buck teeth, and the biggest serving of stew of all (which was still not very big).
In the corner Once-ler's father was asleep in the rocking chair by the fire, using his old gray coat as a blanket. His gray hat was pulled over his stubbled face, and his ax laid on the floor beside him after his long day of woodcutting. Once-ler had to avoid the blade as he tiptoed to the only corner of the room with enough space.
"Because, sweetie," said his Ma, "You're the oldest child, and we have to think of the youngins. It's time for you to be an adult. Anyway, we've all got to make sacrifices when times are hard." The fancy unidentifiable dead animal she always wore around her neck bobbed its nose as she scooped the last tiny part of the stew into her own bowl.
This was always the excuse whenever Once-ler said he needed anything: "We have to think of the youngins." He understood the sentiment, really. It just seemed like he couldn't recall anyone ever using that argument during the short time he'd gotten to be the youngest. The youngest kids were also older than he'd been when they'd first started using this excuse. In fact, it seemed his family had decided Once-ler was an adult the second he'd been born, and that the others could never grow up.
Guys!!!!!! The last chapter of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite is up today!!! Read here: Link
This rewrite was so much fun! It was especially pressing for me since we can all agree Magnifico deserved better! Haha. It's a good thing we can always rewrite these things if we need to, and have a lot of fun doing it, too! Thanks to everyone who read this novelization/rewrite to the end! Link
Excerpt: Chapter Ten: Rosas Restored
Magnifico awoke on top of his tower.
The hopeful hum of the wishes had returned.
He sat up on the stone cold floor, and stared at them floating in the dawn with utter reverence for so long he almost forgot his kingdom was still in ruins.
He reached out to let one land on a finger. “How glorious.”
The skies above told him two days had passed since he'd entered the black hole.
He had so much time before him now.
Magnifico got to his feet, and walked out onto the edge of a platform. He looked down upon his kingdom of sticky rubble and wreck. “I have a great deal of amends to make,” he sighed as he bowed his head. "And I do not blame my people if they do not forgive me after this."
The first thing he did was to snap his dark staff in two, and toss it over the tower's side into the sea. He picked up his old, less potent sceptre and used it to close up his tower again, its spiked platforms folding in from their star shape back into a dome that protected the wishes once more. Then he went down from his tower, out into the streets where he used it to stop the rhinoceros still barreling around. He shrunk the animal down to the size of a mouse, and gave it to a little girl skipping past to keep as a pet, and she was too overjoyed to be scared of him when he handed it to her.
“Why bless my soul! It’s Magnifico,” said a peasant woman when she saw him strolling around the town, putting things back in order.
“It is I!” he said as he shot down the dragon with a fiery arrow from his scepter, that crashed down into the forest, and he looked so disarmingly cheerful that a grin nearly escaped her as she took in his metamorphosis, and everyone wondered what had come over him a second time.
Magnifico was in such high spirits that if he were wearing a crown and it was knocked off his head by the wind, he'd have been too cheerful to notice and gone right on without it.
Next he sealed up the tears in the earth, then herded the stampede of unicorns into a gated pasture to give to Farmer Finnegan as an apology for destroying his other livelihood, after which he turned to the dark castle he’d grown out of the ground and shrunk it into a merry go round for children to ride in the middle of his courtyard. He found that everything could be reshaped into something joyful.
“Good morning sir!” he said to the baker as he put his bakery back in order with a few zaps. “Such a fine craft you’ve perfected. I have always held it in high regard."
Once all his paradoxes and anomalies had been sorted out with some serious conundrum-solving that left his head in a guddle, and he was sure each of his subjects were as safe as could be, he went down to the edge of the forest where he found Asha and Star Boy bouncing up and down on a discarded trampoline in the shade of the trees, and walked up to them.
The pale white wand in Asha's hand had been mended, and she held it carelessly above her head as she bounced, a few sparks leaking out its end that she didn't even notice.
"A fine day to you!" Magnifico called to them, and their mouths fell open at the sight of him. They ceased bouncing. "What have we here, my dears? Let's have a look." He approached them with a smile on his face.
Asha's face scrunched up into the same one she'd made when her Saba's wish had been yanked from her days earlier. “Go away," she told the king. "Everyone was a lot better off without you. Do you think anyone is going to listen to a big stupid-head when they could listen to me? People just have to believe in themselves to make their dreams come true. You just have to follow your heart, and anything is possible. All it takes is a little faith and a wish upon a star.”
“Enough of these idiotic phrases.” Magnifico plucked the mended wand from her hand, and snapped it in two with a satisfying crunch.
Asha's face went pale, and her jaw nearly hit the ground.
"Asha, it seems you’ve finally earned yourself a proper sentence," he said, and raised his sceptre, but Star Boy was ready, and the fire he shot from his palms collided with Magnifico's spell.
But this time, the fire was no match for the white light bursting from the king's sceptre, and the star was not prepared to be hurled backward into the trees like a worthless gnat.
Star Boy emerged from the prickly plants with the look of a crumpled fly, his hair, full of prickers, sticking up as if he'd been electrocuted. He staggered forward, too dizzy to walk straight, and cried, "The earth's a mess, there's no more delight, I'm done with this, time to take flight." He shook his hair back to normal as he leapt into the air, and a suitcase materialised in his hand. "I've had my fill, this game's a bore, I can't take humans anymore. I'm packing my bags, going off with a zoom, no more human games, I'll return to the moon."
"Wait!" called Asha as Star Boy disappeared in a streak of light like a comet, right after which Magnifico sealed up the Eclipse Enclosure behind him with his sceptre, stronger and more secure than ever, ensuring he could never breach the realm again.
Asha's lip trembled as she watched.
Magnifico turned to her. "For your insolence, you will tend the chickens kept by your people day after day, from sunrise to sunset. No magic, no shortcuts. You will protect them and learn to do some good for society." And with a flash, he transported her back to the Hamlet, where she materialised surrounded by chickens inside a run closed off with barbed wire, outside which she could not step foot without getting a zap.
From then on, Asha had no choice but to follow the chickens, feed them, sweep up their dirty hay, and gather their eggs, all to the tune of relentless clucking. With no escape, she slowly, but eventually learned to focus on her tasks until she found a strange rhythm in the routine that wasn't quite pleasure, though she was no longer restless and wishful.
The same night she received her sentence, Magnifico gathered his guards into a search party to find Amaya, who had gone into hiding after his disappearance.
"I fear she is like a serpent in tall grass, watching and waiting to strike," he told his guards. "She must be found and captured at once."
It was only midnight when his guards returned with his wife, who had been hiding out in a cave in the forest.
"Magnifico, I was possessed," she tried to lie as the guards dragged her off to the dungeons. "I do not know what came over me. It was the dark magic, I swear it was." Her protests faded as she was marched down the dark lower stairwell out of sight. Finish reading: Link
original description:
"He was shortish. And oldish. And brownish. And mossy. And he spoke with a voice that was sharpish and bossy."
I'm gonna make him more mysterious than the movie in my fanfiction.
"Your presence here has run its course. Now heed my words, depart this place perforce. Ere sunset paints the valley's hue, begone, or nature's wrath you'll rue. Forces unleashed, a primal might, will curse you through eternal night. Beware, the warning's clear and grim. Your fate awaits if you stay within!"
While I like the concept of Once-ler having a mean, selfish family that shows why he turned out the way he did, I'm going to make it clear that listening to them and destroying everything was his own choice.
EXCERPT
It was unsettling how much having his family move in made Once-ler's life feel exactly as it had before.
Somehow they still managed to make him feel like the one imposing, despite them being in his house. It wasn't long till his closets were full of their clothes and shoes, and his ice box with things like "Brett's pickles, don't touch." "Gizette's hot sauce. No Oncies allowed" or "CHET ONLY" signs on the orange juice. Yuck. Once-ler patiently pushed the orange juice aside to fit eggs and milk for his pancake batter.
Since the time he'd seen them, Gizette had taken up soccer and now kept her equipment thrown across his lawn. It appeared she'd gotten her glasses somehow, glittery pink frames that she left laying around and never wore. Brett and Chet brought parts of motorbikes they fiddled around with, that Once-ler never saw in the long grass before they tripped him. His Ma seemed to have gotten even more knickknacks, clothes, and yarn than ever for someone who always complained about having no money.
However, he didn't know if he should complain because of how much she helped with the company. In fact, she helped a little too much, staying up all night on the phone, networking, negotiating, planning ads, and scheduling meetings for him to attend. She seemed to have become an expert manager overnight.
"Didn't you know I got a degree in business when I was in my early twenties?" she told him. "I used to help yer dad back when he was first startin' his wood cuttin’ business." Once-ler had not. She had never mentioned having any helpful skills up till this point.
Some of her ideas were better than others. Once-ler did appreciate the plans to expand the market, like with the promotions she took charge of. He liked the new top hat she picked out for him, to make him look like a proper CEO. And thanks to her fundraising efforts, the blueprints for his factory were becoming a brick and mortar reality atop the nearest hill beyond his window.
However, when it came to her suggestion about chopping down the trees to gather the leaves faster for their expanding customer base, Once-ler was annoyed.
"No. Truffula Trees take a hundred years to grow back, so that's not a good business strategy. Why don't we just use ladders?"
“Well, that’s pretty demanding of you,” said his Ma. “You make us move out here to help you, and won’t even provide the proper accommodations. Brett fell off one of those dangerous old ladders the other day, and got a big purple bruise on his nose. It’s not funny, don’t laugh. You gotta learn about bein’ a decent boss.”
Once-ler’s Ma’s opinion of a good boss seemed to be one that gave her whatever she wanted. Well, why did he have to give his family whatever they wanted all the time? His stubbornness was, indeed, the last thing still keeping him from getting out his ax and being done with it. The ladders and picker really were a pain. It would be easier to just yell “Timber!” and harvest a whole head of leaves from a fallen trunk, but he didn't want to give his family the satisfaction.
Oh, and there was his promise to the Lorax too.
Just two writers who like to rewrite stories either to make them better or for an experiment.
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