I'm Thinking Of Officially Calling Our Series Of Movie Rewrites "Untwisted Tales" As A Play On Disney's

Do you ever feel like life would be easier if you weren't a creative person who was always inspired to do things you're not supposed to be doing?

Chapter Five is up!

Preview:

It’s rare that a fantasy comes true just as you’re fantasizing about it, but that’s just what happened when Once-ler’s wagon rolled over the next hill. Not only did the scene happen to be extraordinary, but it came at such a coincidental time of desperate wishfulness that Once-ler was ripped straight from his daydreams and his eyes filled with tears immediately.

PEACE! FREEDOM! INSPIRATION! it screamed all at once.

Such a heavy feeling of serenity and joy descended upon his soul that he knew immediately he was where he was meant to be. It took less than a second to decide this was home, and he would never change his mind for the rest of his days. A smile spread across his face, the kind that was so big it hurt.

The valley he overlooked was a forest, but not like the forest at home. He’d never dreamed a forest could be so different. Where the one behind his farm was small, dry, and gray, the one below stretched beyond the horizon, filled with the brightest green grass and dark blue water full of lily pads, duckweed, and cattails.

Wispy trees and bushes bloomed with pink, yellow, and orange silken foliage that filled his nose with sugary sweetness. Instead of being empty and boring, as if animals would rather be anywhere less desolate, it buzzed with bees, butterflies, frogs, and fish he could see even from his vantage atop the highest hill. A sense of adventure and endless discovery pierced his heart as Once-ler's wagon rolled deeper down into Heaven.

So this was how forests were supposed to be. Every choice he’d made up to that point had been right after all, if it had led him to this. When the wagon reached the bottom of the hill, the yodels died on his lips, and he threw his guitar in the back. “Come on, Melvin,” he said, leading the mule along. The forest only became more interesting from there.

Ho-li-ah Ho-le-rah-hi-hi-ah Ho-le-rah-cuckoo Fol-de-rol, laddie right Toor-a-lie-addy

“Wait, who’s singing? Oh, wow!” Once-ler stood in awe as he watched a trio of fat yellow and orange fish dancing atop a rock, using their fins as legs. They held hands, spinning with their eyes closed, occasionally kicking out their fins or breaking away to do an Irish jig.

“Bizarre,” he said, checking over his shoulder just in case it was some kind of trick. “Does anyone else even know this exists?”

A yellow butterfly soared past with wings the size of book pages. The dark spots on its wings looked like a cow's. It landed on a flower where a frog strolled by on its hind legs and started milking it into an acorn cap.

"Oh my goodness!" Once-ler hopped up and down. "I think I just stumbled upon a completely undiscovered habitat!" After his life at home, he'd begun to think there was no such thing as anything new or exciting.

"Magnificent," he said, tears filling his eyes as a swarm of orange swans flew over his head under sun-tinted clouds. They soared, then dipped, taking a dive alongside a waterfall that roared ominously.

~*~

Follow me for the rest of the rewrite! (I'm going to post new chapters every week).

I can't wait to get to the part about the Lorax. I'm going to write him so much differently than the movie that made him a useless smart aleck. I always thought he should be more mysterious and fae-like. Gonna try to make it like something Tolkien or Holly Black would write. This story is really fun to write!

Wicked Rewrite Chapter 1

Wicked reimagines The Wizard of Oz, portraying the Wicked Witch as good. Well, this is a rewrite of Wicked, exploring her as truly wicked.

Focuses on Glinda and Elphaba's dynamic, without dwelling as much on the political animal plot.

Basically I wanted to see what the story would be like if Elphaba was actually a bad or mean character like Snape or Bellatrix instead of a misunderstood misfit, and Glinda had a good, less shallow personality.

Excerpt:

The headmistress smiled broadly as the girls came forward. Glinda curtseyed to her new roommate, but Elphaba kept her eyes on the ground. Glinda caught the faintest flicker of them darting to her hat. 

Finally, the girl spoke in a deep, low grumble: 

"No," she said, eyes invisible behind thickset glasses that seemed almost purposefully styled to be ugly and a ripped up traveling hat pulled low, "I'm not seasick, I didn't eat grass, and yes, I've always been green."

Glinda stopped herself from stepping back in surprise. "Oh! I wasn't going to say anything about your being green. This is Oz after all, everyone has unique traits. I… I like it, actually, it reminds me of the Emerald City!"

Elphaba's pointed nose crinkled, and she let out a sharp laugh, as if sharing an inward joke with herself. "It reminds you of the Emerald City!  Everyone in Oz has unique traits! Of course you'd say those things." She repeated the words in a disdainful tone as if saying them this way explained why they were bad. 

Elphaba folded her arms as if it was unreasonable for somebody not to immediately know what to say to someone with bright green skin who had introduced themself by bringing it up.

"I wish I had gotten placed with a roommate who was actually sensible," the green girl huffed, and trudged to the stairs with a straight back and swish of her long plain dress. 

Glinda's cheeks flushed and she lowered her hat, before following behind, her own frilly dress billowing as she walked. She'd wanted to wear something fun and charming on her first day, but now felt in stark contrast with more dull, mature standards.

She wasn't sure what kind of roommate she'd just ended up with, but being stuck with someone so prim, proper, and hostile for a whole semester filled her with dread. Maybe she could find a way to switch rooms with someone else later. 

But right now the Main Hall was empty—even Madame Morrible had left. Right now everyone else was up in their own rooms, paired with girls they'd known they'd wanted to be with from the first second. Right now, nobody else wanted Glinda. 

Right now, Glinda was stuck.

***

The Wish Rewrite got a little delayed because the other person on this account who was working on it is waiting for a break to finish it. However, the whole thing is almost done and will be a high quality finished story posted on a schedule like the Lorax Rewrite. In the meantime, I wrote this in a couple days. Only the one chapter exists, so it's unknown if I'll finish the whole story or not at this point.

Chapter 7 of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite up on AO3!

It's up! Guys, I'm excited, Star Boy comes on the scene today. Read the story here: Link

Excerpt: Chapter Seven: The Duel

The Hamlet, a mossy place secluded by forest, where inhabitants made bread from pinecone flour, and kept more chickens than charts or charms, came into view. The moon cast it in sharp-edged shadows as Magnifico readied his staff, murmuring last incantations over it. Before leaving the castle, he’d imbued it with extra power from the night sky, using a spell from his only remaining book, the one he’d been reluctant to use because of its relation to dark sorcery. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he told himself, though he’d immediately locked the book away again after referencing this spell. He thought mournfully of the rest of his destroyed resources, original manuscripts he’d compiled, containing centuries of study by other sorcerers. “Now I have no idea what a star might be capable of.” He caressed his staff’s fine point that could stab if needed. “The hour has come.”

The carriage silently rolled to a stop behind a towering oak thick as a dragon’s tail, just on the hollow’s edge. Magnifico looked to the driver and raised a finger to his lips, then motioned for him to drive away unseen, as he stepped out into the Hamlet, and the crunch of leaves, which set a carpet of gold beneath his boots, was concealed by ceaseless clucking as chickens talked in their sleep inside their roosts. 

The hollow’s modest shielings, stone houses shaped like mushroom-caps, unadorned except by moss or the occasional clothes-line, stood huddled close together, intertwined with roots of trees for protection. The humble hollow did not look like the kind of place to hide a criminal. The king held his staff before him to light the way as he crept between the shieling huts and oaks tall as mountains. As he stepped over a root as thick as one of the castle's pillars, his foot landed on a pinecone, and he clasped a hand over his mouth when he nearly screamed. Just as he approached the centre of the cluster of homes, the staff began humming faintly, its sound growing in intensity. 

As the king crept, the staff’s hum shifted in pitch, resonating with a particularly small shieling hut which he paused in front of. He noted a faint glow seeping through its rough, timbre framed windows, and the murmur of voices within. Even muffled by stone walls, self-satisfied pauses emanated, it was the girl showing off, he knew that. Without hesitation, Magnifico raised his staff, then forced the door open with a bang.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Asha’s gaze met his, the recognition in her eyes confirming what the staff already indicated. Its sharp end was pointed up at the star hovering inches below the aisins.

“What folly is this?”

“It isn’t folly at all! It’s simply glorious!” The star did a somersault in the air.

He was a flicker of ghostfire in the form of a young man. Clad in changing hues of white, topaz, and misty red, his clothes echoed the night sky. His bright eyes held glints of mischief, and moving with grace, his cape trailed sparks behind him as he flew in and out the aisins, twisted a picture frame, peeked into a drawer, then sent a stack of books tumbling from a shelf, as if dropping stones from the sky. The playful spirit who’d come down from the heavens laughed, each note twinkling like a warning sign.

The star continued doing flips in the air as he addressed the king. “You see, mighty king, with a crown shining bright, the stars in the heavens dance all through the night. They laugh at your trials, they chuckle with glee, as they dance in the moonlight, wild and free. They meddle for fun, oh, but fret not dear king, for your country will fall, but it’s a burdensome thing.”

Asha laughed, and though she had a hand over her mouth, she looked impressed. “Star Boy,” she said.

Magnifico’s eyes blazed as he raised his staff, and he unleashed a striking green beam that cut through the air. Star Boy, now idly twirling a ribbon of stardust around his finger, tried to dodge, but was struck directly in the heart, and like a mosquito swatted, fell to the ground with an expression of stunned surprise, his stardust trail dim and scattered. 

From the floor he looked up at Magnifico, shaking off the remnants of the spell’s green glow. “All right, you’ve got me, you’ve proven your might, I underestimated you, and I’ve lost the fight.” He grinned, then added, “But watch your step king, as you tread. Anger the stars and you’ll find yourself dead.”

Magnifico’s staff crackled again, and he struck at Star Boy with a wave of green fire. The house’s beams groaned under the strain of magic, and shards of stone rained down.

Star Boy darted around, a streak of incomprehensible light, and he paused only to withdraw something from his pocket, a slim, pale stick he tossed down to Asha. “Take this wand, a gift from the heavens. You’re a fairy godmother now, my dear.”

“Aeeeeegh!” Asha let out an excited screech as she caught it. 

The wand was swiftly knocked from her hand by a wave of Magnifico’s staff. “You are both banished from the realm for threatening my kingdom.” He raised it again, when Star Boy, hovering just out of reach, laughed as he conjured a torrent of fire, and flames lashed out from his palms, catching Magnifico’s cloak in a dance of light and heat. 

Asha scurried forward to her wand, and brandished it as he stomped on the flames. With a quick flick, she sent a stream of light to blind the king. The spell struck his eyes in a burst of bright sparks, so he staggered back. He growled as he struggled to regain control. 

Finish reading: Link

Chapter 8 is up!

EXCERPT:

He'd finally become such a joke to the townsfolk, it seemed they'd entirely forgotten he was human.

Instead of just tomatoes, the grocer volunteered wheelbarrows of spoiled produce that some teenagers mixed with glass and rocks. A particularly well aimed stone knocked out a tooth as he was belting out his favorite jingle:

"The Thneed is good, the Thneed is grea—YOW!"

Once-ler usually didn't stop for anything, but the taste of blood made him drop his guitar on his foot. This hurt even worse, so he sprang up and down. The guitar bounced onto the concrete while the crowd laughed and cheered.

Once-ler didn't get a chance to see if the instrument had broken, because, in a fit of enthusiasm, the mean little girl with red hair ensured this was the case. She smashed it on the ground with the second worst noise Once-ler had ever heard.

A tomato landed in his stunned face, but he didn't even feel it. He just watched open-mouthed as fruits and vegetables pelted him and the girl stomped on the pieces, giggling with her parents who stood back and watched.

"Alright, sweetie, that's enough, we have to get to Grandma's house," the mother finally told her. She smiled and pulled out a big bag of chocolate-coated pretzels for her daughter as they walked away.

Once-ler's last shred of optimism finally evaporated. After his father had passed away, the guitar had been the only good memory he'd had from home.

"THAT'S IT!" he roared. "I've had enough!" He stormed from the gazebo with tears in his eyes.

Only the baker looked slightly sympathetic. She twisted a strand of curly brown hair around her finger as he strode past.

"Is this really the way to treat a stranger?!" he heard her yell at the grocer.

"Oh, come on, Norma, he's just a self-centered out-of-towner." The grocer sounded slightly abashed.

Once-ler turned to see Norma stomp her foot. "I know he is, and I know that piece of junk he's selling looks like a wadded up piece of bubblegum with hairs stuck in it, but you just gotta understand! Homeless mentally ill folks need to be shown charity..."

Her words just infuriated Once-ler more. "My family was right. I quit!" He ripped the Thneed from his neck, and accidentally whipped the baker in the face as he threw it away. It knocked off her glasses, which fell to the ground and shattered. Oops.

He walked away faster. Luckily his long legs took him back to the forest before anyone could call the police.

THANK YOU

Thank you for 40 kudos on the Lorax Rewrite!!!!!!!!!!!

I was only going to release one chapter every Wednesday, but felt like posting more for fun. Comments/likes/kudos are REALLY appreciated, so I can get an audience. Please share this novelization with anyone you think would enjoy it.

I've been working on it for an abnormally long time, and got really carried away doing multiple drafts, especially for the later parts. The aim was to make it better than one of those professional Disney movie novelizations. Hopefully it feels like a full satisfying book with a lot of little things that connect and foreshadow.

Wicked Rewrite Chapter 2 (Not Like Other Girls)

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.

Chapter 11 is up!

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.

The Great Lorax Rewrite (beginning)

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.