The end of the rope lay coiled on the floor.
The Wicked Witch of the West picked up the rope and began to tug on it
gently. The black pot tilted slightly. Seeing the alarm on Dorothy's
face, the witches cackled in sadistic delight.
"Now, we'll see how you like this, Deary," screamed the Wicked Witch of
the West with heinous laughter. "We'll teach you to interfere with us."
With that, she gave a big tug on the rope.
Dorothy screamed as the thick black steaming liquid hit her face. But,
instead of being scalding hot, it was icy cold. She awoke with a start
to find that the Scarecrow was splashing cold water in her face. "What
happened, Dorothy?" said the Tin Woodman. "Are you all right? You were
crying out in your sleep."
"Oh," said Dorothy in relief as she recognized everyone. "Thank goodness
it was only a bad dream. The witches were about to scald me to death."
"We couldn't wake you," said the Lion. "That's why we sprinkled the
water on her face."
"Oh, what a terrible nightmare it was," said Dorothy. "Thank you for
waking me when you did.
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