Maxine Alan-Hart

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THE WACKY WIZARD WARS II

 

 

 

THE AGREEMENT

 

 

Mortor and Cyanor were celebrating. Not because they had lost the last war. But because they could now conquer the world without an army of gibbering half-wits.

            They were the unexpected stars in what promised to be a blockbuster of a film, The Great Wizard Wars.

            While the good wizards and witches of Obscura had been in the middle of producing this film with the cameras rolling, Mortor and his grumpy army had attacked them. A real war had begun! It had been captured on film.

The footage showed Mortor and his gang being walloped by the Golden Army with the help of dragons, androids and drones in some of the funniest scenes ever recorded.

The Golden Army, was now fed up with fighting the two High Born trouble makers who kept raising armies.

Lance, the Guardian and leader of the Golden Army, decided to persuade Mortor and Cyanor, who had surrendered, to stop waging war.

‘I have an offer for you,’ he said. ‘You both want the world at your feet. There is no need to fight us to get this. We can give it to you.’

Lance escorted them to Obscura’s fortress and showed them clips of the film where Mortor and Cyanor looked awesome and terrifying.

‘You can both be famous if this film is shown to the world,’ he told them. People will think you’re wonderful actors and pay a lot to see your film. ‘You’ll be rich and have everything you’ve ever wished for. And you won’t need a war to get it. No more searching for gullible weaklings to fight for you.’

‘What do we have to do if we agree?’ Mortor asked.

‘First … stop attacking us.

‘Second … attend the Opening Night of the film.

‘And third … sign legal papers so you can receive royalties, which means money, from the film.’

The deluded pair had happily agreed and were now staying in the fortress as ‘guests’ until the Opening Night.

‘I’M GOING TO RULE THE WORLD!’ Mortor shouted as he swigged the extra strong gibber juice that Cyanor had brewed. He tossed the empty flagon onto the floor.

‘AS YOUR WIFE, I’LL RULE EVERYONE!’ Cyanor yelled back. She implied that she’d rule Mortor, as well. A sore point. He hadn’t shared any power with her after they married.

He was too tipsy to notice what she said or taste the slug slime that Cyanor had slipped into his drink.

Cyanor sniggered as she watched him swallow the disgusting sludge. She was constantly scheming and finding new and more foul ways to torment Mortor for not sharing his power.

“Wasted my time marrying you,’ she hissed under her breath.

 

On the ceiling, above the warring couple, one of Wizzo’s Spy-Flies was recording and sending images back to Wizzo’s monitors in his control room.

Lance was there watching these with Wizzo. He grimaced at the sight of Mortor quaffing the revolting mixture.

‘There’s no love lost between those two. They seem to detest each other,’ Lance observed.

‘They’ve managed to wreck your place, Lance. We could have offered them other quarters.’

‘It’s worth it, Wizzo. I can keep a close eye on them in the fortress. There’s less chance of them changing their minds and making a bolt for it. I’m quite comfortable in the gatehouse where I can stop them leaving by the only exit. We’ve confiscated their wands, and there is nothing they can use to make new ones.’

‘We must stop them being bored and keep Cyanor brewing that rocket fuel. I’ve sent drones out to search for more gibberberries.’ Wizzo laughed.

‘I admit I’ll be pleased to see the back of them after the Opening Night,’ Lance said with a sigh.

 

 

 

 

OPENING NIGHT

 

 

 

Wizzo and Barrack, who had filmed the war, worked hard to edit the film. Parts were cut; music and animation added. The final result was world class. And then some.

There had been no point in dumbing down the scenes. Newsmen had already publicised the film in national newspapers. Headlines announced: SENSATIONAL FILM TO BE LAUNCHED. A COMEDY LIKE NO OTHER!

 The articles went into detail about the amazing robots a village genius had produced. In true paparazzi style, the ‘bad characters’ were touted as new stars.

This somewhat upset Bella. ‘Those numbskulls, Mortor and Cyanor weren’t acting at all!’ she said in a huff. ‘My pupils were the true stars.’

 But on the plus side, attention was drawn away from everyone else in the film, and life in the village was quiet again. It wouldn’t be for long.

 

London theatres were queuing to host the Opening Night, but it was decided the Premier would remain in Foxton. The unlikely stars would be more easily managed in a local theatre.

Mortor and Cyanor were booked into the Foxton Hotel a day before Opening Night. They needed to get used to the limelight, and people needed a glimpse of the future stars.

The hotel was next door to the theatre, and the strange couple got a huge kick out of seeing their warty faces on the billboards listing the film. Everyone instantly recognised them as they entered the foyer. They were dressed in black robes and people assumed they were wearing stage make-up to promote their film.

‘Bring me lots of gibber juice,’ Mortor ordered the bellboy as they were shown up to their suite.

‘Yes, sir!’ he responded and passed the request to the reception desk.

But no one had heard of it.

Wizzo’s Spy-Flies that were following Mortor and Cyanor wherever they went relayed the message to Wizzo.

In no time at all, Wizzo had some of Cyanor’s brew delivered to the hotel by one of his androids.

Unfortunately, the manager insisted on trying some before allowing it into his hotel. It was the last thing he remembered for a week.

The weird couple were soon creating chaos in their suite. The chambermaids complained bitterly about the smell and the mess they were making. But no one dare stop them. They looked as scary as hell.

 

Exactly on time for the Premier and looking as grotesque as ever, Mortor and Cyanor walked out of the hotel and onto the red carpet outside the theatre.

The press was there, and all cameras turned on them; their flashes going non-stop. Onlookers were crowding around and cheering their arrival.

Mortor and Cyanor sucked in the atmosphere. This is what they had dreamed of.

A big Hollywood producer had come all the way over to England to see the film. He was looking for new stars to play diabolical roles, and he was waiting inside.

Foxton Theatre was small. It was decided that only the lead players would attend in person.

The next to arrive were Bella and Lance. Someone in the crowd called out, ‘That’s the man who plays the Guardian.’

As applause broke out, Lance whispered, ‘So much for keeping a low profile. I’m glad the pupils aren’t attending. This sort of limelight can change lives forever.’

He took Bella’s hand. ‘Your film will be a great hit. I hope you won’t leave us to direct one in Hollywood.’

Bella beamed at him. ‘Never,’ she whispered.

Lance was right. The film was going to break all Box Office records.