Chapter 5: New World Ogre


In his nightmare, Donkey opened his eyes to find his field of 
vision filled by the frowning, angry face of his cronish former 
owner.  "I said TALK!" the old woman demanded.

Donkey, frozen with fear, could only stare back at her.  
Suddenly another face crowded in next to the hag -- the face of 
Gledius, wearing his arming cap just as Donkey had first seen 
him back in the forest.  "You'd better make it talk NOW," the 
captain said to her, sneering at Donkey, "I've wasted enough of 
my time on this dumb animal."

 The owner glared even more angrily at Donkey.  "I SAID TALK!" 
she shouted, and drew her hand back as if ready to slap him.

Panicked, Donkey tried to speak -- but found that for some 
reason he couldn't.  It was as if his vocal chords were 
paralyzed.  Frightened, he tried to run, but found he had no 
control of his legs.  That was when he looked down, and found 
to his horror that he had no legs -- or body either.  He was 
only a head that had been mounted as a trophy on a plaque.

Yet the old woman persisted.  "TALK, YOU STUPID DONKEY!" she 
yelled, and slapped him across one cheek.  "COME ON, DONKEY!" 
she coaxed, and slapped again across the other.

Suddenly the images of the old woman and Gledius began to grow 
dull, then blurred out altogether.  After a moment, the faces 
started growing sharper again -- but they were now different.  
Where the old woman's face was before, Donkey now saw the face 
of Shrek, smiling reassuringly down at him.  Behind his 
shoulder, looking down at Donkey with concern, was the face of 
Fiona.  "Come on, Donkey, wake up," Shrek was saying as he 
patted Donkey firmly on one cheek, seeking to revive his 
companion.

Donkey shook his head, trying to complete his trip back to 
consciousness.  "Oh, man, what a nightmare!" he moaned as he 
gathered in his surroundings.  He found he was still in the 
council chamber, laying  on a rug -- and quickly hopped to his 
feet and looked around the rug to see if it might be someone 
else he knew.

"It's okay, Donkey," Fiona said, smiling soothingly, "we've put 
it way."

"After all," Shrek added, not quite understanding his friend's 
distress, "it was just a bearskin rug."

"Whaddya mean, JUST?" Donkey responded, "I saw her an' her 
husband an' kid get caged up back in that forest where Gledius 
was gatherin' all the fairy tale folk up fer Farquaad, and 
those bears was talkin' and EVERYTHING.  So, 'scuse ME if I get 
a little antsy seein' other NOT-so-dumb animals bein' turned 
inta floor coverins!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" Shrek said, waving his hands, palms 
outwards, in a gesture of surrender.

Meanwhile, as Fiona had been listening to Donkey's explanation, 
her eyes had grown narrower and she had begun to grind her 
teeth.  Now, after a moment's contemplation, she shook her 
head, spat out the word "Farquaad," as if it were some sort of 
obscene curse, and turned back to the council table, where the 
two humans were now seated. "Mr. Beaglely," she said, "you 
claimed to have an idea of how to make the ascension of such -- 
people -- less likely.  Let's hear it."

"Yes, Your Highness," Beaglely said, then glanced back toward 
the room's  double-doors.  After the bearskin rug had been 
stuffed into a closet and the carpet workers were dismissed, he 
had re-shut the doors and made sure they were latched.  Having 
verified they were still secured, he swung his briefcase onto 
the table and worked a small combination lock.  Then he opened 
it, and took out a large, brown-leather-bound book that he laid 
on the table. "This is the code of the province of Duloc," he 
said.  "It establishes the government framework through which 
services are proved, taxes are collected, etc..  It has been 
expanded over the past few years through the exertions of Lord 
Farquaad to add more stringent regulations on the people 
themselves -- tighter dress codes, curfews, building ordinances 
and other things to make Duloc a 'more orderly' place.  
However, as Lord Farquaad was more concerned with the effects 
of the new laws rather than the mundane business of 
implementing them, most administrative functions are handed via 
the mayor and town council, which are elected by the people and 
then must be approved by him before they may take office."

"What, ye mean the people picked Milktoast here directly?" 
Shrek asked, jerking a thumb toward the mayor, who looked 
somewhat taken aback.

"That doesn't sound like a very ... Farquaadian ... idea," 
Fiona observed.

"Actually, it was something I lobbied him for," Beaglely said, 
"I was able to convince him that giving people such a choice 
would both appease the populace, making them believe they have 
a voice, and make Duloc seem that much more of 'a friendly 
place' in the eyes of the world.  I noted that since he had 
power to influence what candidates the people would have to 
choose from, and would retain veto power over anyone they might 
elect, he would be able to ensure that only people to his 
liking could hold office."

"So," Shrek said, "for someone like the mayor here t'get 
elected he had to suck up to both Farquaad AND those lemmings 
out there."

"Just a moment!" Milquest said indignantly, "I resent that 
remark!  I work very hard for the people of Duloc!"

"An' ye pander to 'em real good, too," Shrek responded.  "I 
heard ye in the church.  An' goodness knows how shiny 
Farquaad's boots got from you lickin 'em."

Milquest's face turned red in anger, but he checked himself 
from saying anything to the physically imposing ogre, who had 
drawn himself up to his full height and looked down at the 
mayor with a challenging glint in his eyes.  Milquest felt his 
resolve melt, and he looked away.  It was a sickening feeling 
that he had suffered on some meetings with Farquaad when the 
Lord had some grandiose (and usually self-aggrandizing) project 
or occasion he wanted to push through that had come into some 
conflict with the people Miquest represented -- the dislocation 
of homes, the need to raise taxes, etc..  On each of those 
occasions, Milquest had backed down, too.

Shrek gave a dismissive "huh," then turned to Beaglely and 
jerked his thumb toward the mayor again.  "Just why'd ye think 
we need him here anyway?  What good is he t'us?"

"Because," Beaglely replied, "as -- imperfect -- as the mayor 
is, he does represent the method by which we may free Queen 
Fiona here from her commitment to Duloc, while giving the 
people here an alternative to the dangers of despotism or 
anarchy that could result.  It's a system by which the people 
elect ALL their rulers by equal ballot.  In its purest form, 
there's no need for kings or queens at all.  It's called 
'democracy.'"

"'Democracy'?" Donkey asked, seeming to chew out the unfamiliar 
word, "it sounds Greek to me."

"Actually, it IS  Greek," Beaglely responded, "the Athenians, 
for example, had a democracy centuries ago --"

"Which didn't work out all that well, if I recall correctly," 
Fiona observed, "at least according to the history books that 
were left in my tower.  I believe that Plato referred to it as 
'Mobocracy'."

Shrek's ears picked up.  "Really?" he said derisively, "Well, 
I've dealt with mobs all my life.  Emotional, bigoted, 
unstable, half-cocked idiots.  Frankly, given a choice, I'd 
prefer Farquaad."

"But it CAN work," Beaglely asserted matter-of-factly.

Shrek just waved him off dismissively and turned to Fiona.  
"Trust me, Fiona," the ogre said to the ogress, "the man's 
livin' in a world of fantasy!"

Fiona gave a heavy sigh and dropped her eyes to the floor as 
her ears drooped.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Beaglely," she said with 
reticence, "but I don't see this as a realistic solution."

"But it can work, it WILL work!" Beaglely insisted, his voice 
actually taking on an emotional plea.

"And just what makes ye so blasted sure?" Shrek pressed.

"Because I've SEEN that it will work."

"Oh?" Shrek asked mockingly,  "Do ye travel in time, or do ye 
got yourself a crystal ball?"

"Neither," Beaglely responded, "I've got this..." And with 
those words, he reached into his briefcase and appeared to undo 
part of the lining.  From this apparently secret section he 
withdrew a small bundle of papers.  He handed a few sheets of 
them to Fiona.

"What's this?" she said, squinting in perplexity.  She then 
read the heading at the top of the front paper.  "'The 
Constitution of the United State of America'?"  She looked up 
at Beaglely, her perplexity unrelieved.  "I don't get it," she 
said, "what IS this thing?"

"Just what it says," Beaglely replied.  "It's the constitution 
of a nation that doesn't exist yet, which resides on a 
continent not yet discovered.  It won't exist for several 
centuries.  But when it does, it will become a nation that will 
be larger than all the kingdoms of Europe combined -- and it is 
governed as a DEMOCRACY ... there is NO monarchy at all."

Fiona stared, dumbfounded, at Beaglely for several seconds.  
Then she looked over at Shrek -- and saw that he was also 
gaping in near horror at the little man.  Shrek then noticed 
Fiona, saw her dubious expression, and returned it.  "He's 
mad," Shrek stated, simply and sadly.  "The man's stark-raving 
mad."  

Both ogres then turned in concert to Milquest, who was also 
staring incredulously at the town manager.  "Did you know about 
this, Lord Mayor?" Fiona asked.

Milquest continued staring at Beaglely's implacable expression 
for a few moments more, then shook his head as if breaking out 
of a trance.  "Uh, no, Your Majesty," he replied with some 
reluctance, "I'm afraid I wasn't familiar with this ... 
document."

Beaglely looked over at Milquest, who shrugged apologetically 
back at his associate.  Beaglely then spoke one word:  "Merle."  
After a moment's confusion, Milquest's face took on a look of 
recognition, then understanding.

"Merle," Milquest repeated, nodding to himself as if suddenly 
everything in the world had become clear.

The ogres, however, turned to look at each other and saw that 
they shared the same confused expression.

"Uh, 'scuce me," Donkey chimed in, "but is that 'Merle' thing 
'sposed t'be some sorta magic word to make everything make 
sense?  'Cause I kin tell ya now it sure don't work on 
DONKEYS."

"Ogres, either," Shrek added.

"Lord Mayor," Fiona said, trying to restrain her growing 
frustration, "if you could please explain--"

"Oh, of course!" Milquest said, then began, "Several years ago 
a sorcerer visited Duloc -- well, RETIRED sorcerer, he claimed.  
He only does occasional contract work now -- or did then.  He 
told us to just call him 'Merle.'  Wonderful singer, too, 
incidentally.  Sang these catchy songs he said were from some 
'western country' -- although he never did mention its name.  
There was one song in particular I liked; it was a story about 
some mythical land called 'Muskogee' that was inhabited by 
these peculiar square creatures called 'Okies,' and --"

"At any rate," Beaglely interrupted Milquest's digression, 
"Merle did some jobs for us back then; installed things like 
our P.A. systems, the camera in the puppet stand by the gate, 
the castle spotlights -- a number of ingenious new devices we'd 
never thought of before.  When we asked him where he learned 
about such wonders, he said he learned it in the future.  Or 
rather, OUR future.  Merle, you see, was born IN the future and 
ages BACKWARDS.  Some of the things he found of value to keep 
around were copies of important documents that impressed him.  
This 'Constitution' was one such document."

Fiona stared skeptically at Beaglely for a few moments, then 
looked over at Shrek.  The ogre rolled his eyes and made little 
circles in the air next to his right ear with his right index 
finger, letting her know what he thought of Beaglely's story.  
Fiona then turned to Milquest.

"Lord Mayor?" she asked.

"Oh!" Miquest stammered, "Well, uh, that's about it.  That's 
the story that Merle told.  Except I didn't know about the 
'Constitution' part."

"And that's just what it is," Shrek scoffed, "a STORY.  If ye 
wrote all that stuff down I'd know just what to do with your 
story, and it's -- well, it's not somethin' I can say in mixed 
company."

"Actually, Merle himself did write something down," Beaglely 
said, and began shuffling though the papers he still held.  "I 
really didn't understand its significance until today -- ah, 
here it is."  He withdrew one paper and handed it over to the 
ogress.  "Merle said to hold on to that, that he believed I 
might find this useful one day.  He wouldn't explain any 
further than that, just winked at me and said 'you'll see' when 
I asked."

As Fiona started reading, Shrek asked Beaglely, "So, it never 
crossed your mind that this 'Merle' fella might not be a con 
artist trying to hoodwink ye?"

Beaglely shrugged.  "It really didn't matter," he replied, "the 
work he did for us didn't really require belief or unbelief -- 
it only required results.  Lord Farquaad, among other things, 
was a very ... results-oriented person.  As long as he got the 
ends he sought, he really didn't care if the means entailed 
employing a sage or exploiting a lunatic."

"Uh-huh," Shrek responded, unimpressed, "and what'ere became of 
this ... one-time sorcerer ... anyway?"

"He just decided to leave one day," Beaglely replied, "said he 
wanted to travel to the orient for a while, see the great wall 
going up, maybe even meet Budda before he died.  He said he 
probably wouldn't be back here before the Roman Empire fell -- 
or re-rises, for our perspective.  It's hard to tell how to 
phase things when talking about Merle.  Giving me that paper" -
- he nodded toward the ogress -- "was the last thing he did 
before leaving."

"Riiiiight," Shrek said, somewhat condescendingly, then gave a 
small shake of his head and turned toward Fiona.  "Look, 
Sweetheart," be began, "I --"

Shrek stopped short when he saw Fiona.  She looked to be frozen 
as she stared at the paper she clutched with white-knuckled 
hands.  Her wide-eyed face had grown so pale it had almost 
resumed its human hue.

"Fiona, what is it?" Shrek asked with concern as he hurried to 
her side and looked down at the words on the paper, written in 
bold calligraphy.  He read the short paragraph and raised an 
eyebrow in surprise.

"What's it say?!" Donkey goaded, "what's it say?!"

Fiona read it, her voice trembling somewhat.

"When the flame of freedom wavers
And when tyrannies oppress
Duloc shall find its saviors
In an ogre and ogress"

Donkey's brow wrinkled.  "Not much of a poem," he said,  "or is 
it another spell?"

"No, it's a prophesy," Fiona said.

"Not really," Beaglely corrected.  "since Merle had already 
come from the future, it's actually a type of history."

Fiona felt disconcerted, confused, and not a little scared.  
Nations that didn't yet exist in lands not yet discovered and 
ruled without monarchs?  Singing, souvenir-gathering sorcerers 
that lived their lives backwards and pre-recorded her destiny?  
She turned to Shrek.  His eyes were set suspiciously on 
Beaglely, and his wide mouth was set in a disapproving frown.   
At least HE didn't seem confused.  "What do YOU think of all 
this?" she asked him.

"What do I think?" he echoed, looking at her.  "I think that 
was a pretty neat lil' trick." He then shifted his gaze to 
Beaglely.  "Tell me," Shrek asked condescendingly, "do ye do 
card tricks, too?   Pull certain cards from the deck when ye 
need 'em?"

Beaglely's own eyes narrowed.  "You still don't believe me?" he 
asked.

"Noooo, I still don't," Shrek confirmed the obvious.

"So what do I need to do to convince you?" Beaglely asked.

"Tell me why."

"Tell you 'why' what?"

"Tell me why you're doin' all this."

"For Duloc."

"HA!" Shrek's brief laugh was cutting and derisive.  "Yeah, 
right.  Let's see, exactly how long have you been workin' for 
Farquaad?"

"Twenty years."

"Twenty years.  Really?  And you and him had the best interests 
of Duloc in mind all that time?"

"I think we both know whose interests Farquaad was concerned 
with."

"Aye.  But you was different, were ye?"

"Actually, yes."

"So why'd ye work for him, and why'd he hire ye?"

"He didn't hire me.  He inherited me.  I was the royal keeper 
of the law under the rule of the former king and queen.  
Farquaad had me stay in my position after their deaths --"

"Did Farquaad have a hand in that?"

"No.  At least, I don't think so.  As far as I know, their 
deaths were natural, following close on the death of their own 
newborn daughter.  We think the grief had a lot to do with 
that.  But that's another story.  At any rate, Farquaad turned 
out to be the most cunning and resourceful of the regents who 
jockeyed for control of Duloc after that, and was soon able to 
secure its leadership.  But his ideas of what power meant were 
adolescent and self-serving.  He concentrated on the creation 
of things that would enhance his own prestige -- the building 
of this castle, for instance -- and cared little for the common 
Dulocian, except that they stay in line.  That's when he turned 
to me, having me modify the law to add edicts about curfews, 
dress codes, and other regulations to keep the people more 
securely under his heel."

"And ye did that?"

Beaglely shrugged.  "If I didn't, he would just have hired 
someone else who would.  But after a while I was able to talk 
him into the idea of restructuring the government to add the 
mayor and city council layer for the reasons I told you before.   
What I DIDN'T tell you before was that this idea came to me 
shortly after Merle showed up and started doing his contract 
work for us.  One day, after we became business acquaintances, 
he gave me the Constitution and told me of its history.  He 
said I should keep it a secret, but I might find it handy 
sometime in 'my' future.  That and the 'prophesy' the queen now 
holds.  I didn't fully understand that part until today, but I 
did understand that the creation of the elected mayor and city 
council layer of government would be a step toward 
democratization."

"Uh-huh," Shrek nodded skeptically, "and so what was in it for 
you?"

"For me?" Beaglely echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, for YOU," Shrek repeated, "or would ye have us believe 
that you're doin' all this from some unselfish 'duty' you feel 
for Duloc?  From my experience, nobody does nothin' unless 
there's somethin' in it for them."

"Indeed," Beaglely responded, "and I suppose today certainly 
proved that.  Your charging into the church for the queen, her 
stepping away from Farquaad, the dragon and donkey's rescue of 
you both -- I've not seen such a series of totally selfish acts 
in quite some time.

Shrek's eyes narrowed in anger and he again he took a menacing 
step toward the manager.  But again he felt Fiona's restraining 
hand on his arm.

"Please, Mr. Beaglely," she said, stepping forward, "I, too, 
would like to know your motivations.  It would seem to me that, 
had you simply let Shrek and myself leave, you would continue 
to hold your present position under Gledius or whoever the next 
Farquaad might be.  Why did you take a chance in speaking out 
and casting your lot with us?"

"And why would Farquaad have put up with such an outspoken 
little bookkeeper before then?" Shrek tossed in.

Beaglely sighed, considered for a moment, then spoke.  "I was 
not -- 'outspoken' -- under Lord Farquaad," he said.  "In fact, 
I was quite the docile servant.  It was something I learned 
while serving in the royal court.  When the transition 
occurred, I continued to keep to my 'place.'  Perhaps that was 
a mistake then.  No matter now.  When Farquaad became Lord over 
Duloc, I soon realized he was not the type of ruler who 
appreciated, let alone sought, advice from others on how to 
rule his fiefdom.  So I continued to do my job, quietly and 
efficiently.  Where I could, however, I tried to take steps to 
undermine his growing control -- especially after I learned 
what I did from Merle.  Today, however, I saw a rare 
opportunity to take direct action."

"But that still doesn't tell us WHY you were predisposed to 
'undermine' his control to being with," Fiona protested.  "What 
sparked your -- your discontent?"

Beaglely paused thoughtfully for a few moments more, and then a 
rueful smile started playing at the corner of his lips.  "Your 
Majesty," he began, "you may have noted that I am not the most 
physically imposing of persons, unlike your 'friend' here."

Fiona nodded.

"Nor was I born to privilege, as Lord Farquaad was," Beaglely 
continued.  "I was born a lowly commoner, and grew up as the 
smallest, frailest boy in our village.  As such, I was the last 
in the pecking order among the other boys.  I cannot tell you 
how many times I was beaten up in the constant jostling that 
occurred in a climate where the 'worth' of a person was 
determined by their physical prowess alone.  Eventually I 
developed a fatalistic attitude toward the whole situation, 
becoming a loner, and accepted the occasion beating as 
stoically as I could."

"Say, man," Donkey suddenly injected, "izzat why you don't show 
no fear when Shrek threatens ya, 'cause he can't do nothin' 
those OTHER bullies ain't already done?"

Everyone just stared at Donkey for a moment, surprised at the 
insightful comment.  Shrek also looked a tad ashamed.

"Very astute observation." Beaglely allowed, "Perhaps so.  In 
any event, since I wasn't much good at many of the other tasks 
that required some degree of strength, my parents found me a 
job in the marketplace, helping out with things like keeping 
inventory for the different merchants.  My employers were 
impressed with my diligence, if not my stature, and soon had 
taught me math so that I could help out with the accounting.  
But more important than that, I learned about the law.  I 
learned that, under law, we are equal -- with some unfortunate 
adjustment for class and gender.  It didn't matter if you were 
a two-hundred pound lumberjack or a hundred-pound cobbler.  So 
learning the law became my obsession.  I was soon the one 
people in the marketplace turned to when any disputes arose.  I 
must have been arbiter of a hundred cases and served on one 
side or the other in as many makeshift trials. As my reputation 
grew, I came to the attention of the king's court, and was 
hired to serve as apprentice under their then royal lawkeeper."

"So you saw the law as a great equalizer," Fiona observed, "and 
you wanted to make it greater by removing those 'unfortunate 
adjustments.'  When you saw this Constitution, you saw a vision 
of a land ruled by laws, with no kings or queens, where classes 
were eliminated,  and everyone was equal and leaders were 
chosen by the people from among themselves.  Is that pretty 
much where you stand?"

Beaglely nodded, impressed.  "Yes, Your Highness," he said.  
"Although the Constitution itself isn't perfect -- for example, 
there is some allowance for slavery, a sad mistake that would -
- or rather, will -- later take the lives of thousands of men 
to correct -- it is an important step toward that goal you just 
stated.  A step toward, as the document itself puts it, a 'More 
Perfect Union.'"

"So," Fiona said, turning to Shrek, "in this -- this utopian 
ideal -- people would look on each other as equals, whether 
they were princesses or ogres, and things like class or station 
wouldn't stand between them."

"Well, to a degree," Beaglely said, somewhat confused by the 
question, "except by definition there wouldn't BE any 
princesses and -- well, I don't recall Merle mentioning 
anything about ogres, but --"

"Never mind," Fiona said, turning back to Beaglely, "I suppose 
you've given some thought to how this could be adapted to 
Duloc."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, "I've written the outline of a 
new Dulocian constitution ... although at the time I thought it 
was more an exercise in fantasy."

"I like fantasies," the ogress said, smiling, "why don't you 
show me what you've got?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Beaglely said again, then went over and 
took a seat at the table and laid out some other sheets from 
the stack in his hand.  Fiona went over and sat down beside 
him, and began looking the papers over.  Milquest wandered over 
to the table and quietly took an unobtrusive seat a bit further 
away.  But Shrek wandered back to stand beside Donkey.

"Ye really think I'm a bully?" Shrek asked his friend quietly, 
trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Huh?" Donkey asked, confused.

"When ye said 'other' bullies, back when you was talkin' about 
me and Beaglely."

"Oh," Donkey said, also keeping his voice low, "sorry, man, 
didn't mean anything by it.  But ya gotta admit, you've been 
kinda hard on the guy."

Shrek watched as Fiona scanned Beaglely's documents with alert, 
attentive eyes.  "I was just tryin' to protect her," he said.

"And maybe you was just a little bit jealous?" Donkey asked.

"Jealous?  Of BEAGLELY?" Shrek nearly laughed.

"No, not ROMANTIC jealous, just jealous 'cause, y'know, he's 
keepin' her here as queen, when you want her to be with you in 
the swamp"

"Well, maybe," Shrek conceded, "but he seemed like such a 
pencil-necked geek... I didn't know ..."

"Maybe you shouldn't have gone 'n judged him till ya got to 
know him, huh?" Donkey jibed.

Shrek just grunted, loathe to concede the old point.

After a moment, Donkey asked, "Say, Shrek, if you married Fiona 
as a queen, does that make you king?"

"Huh?" Shrek said, taken aback at the question.  "Who said 
anythin' about marriage?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Donkey snickered, "like this thing ain't 
gonna end with you two marryin'."

"Well," Shrek, said reluctantly, "even if we DO get married ... 
and I'm not sayin' we WILL ... then I don't think I'd be king.  
Somethin' about blue blood and all that stuff.  I'd be -- what 
do they call that -- a 'consort', I think."

"Hum," Donkey said, wrinkling his nose, "don't sound like much 
of a fairy tale endin'.  Just as well it don't look like she's 
gonna be queen much longer, huh?"

"One can only hope," Shrek agreed, as he stared at the woman he 
loved as she asked Beagley about some point she had noted in 
his document.

Just then everyone was startled by Dragon's fierce roar from 
outside and the whooshing sound of her great wings.  A second 
later something flew with great speed through the open balcony 
window doors, and Fiona screamed as she recognized the black-
clad, pointed-hat wearing figure as a witch on a broomstick.  
Dragon's mouth closed with a loud snap just outside the window 
as she had unsuccessfully tried to intercept the airborne 
wiccan.

"WHOA!" the witch called after she cleared the window.  The 
broomstick obediently came to a quick halt right in the center 
of the room.  Unfortunately, the momentum was too great and the 
witch herself kept flying, crashing into the far wall and 
falling in a heap to the floor.  The impact had loosened 
Farquaad's 'new suit' portrait that hung on that wall, and 
after a moment it fell down upon the witch.  Her head punched a 
whole just where Farquaad's face was, and the effect was a 
portrait of Farquaad's body with his hand thrust into his vest, 
but with the witch's head now sticking out where Farquaad's 
used to be.  Stunned, she shook her head -- pale-green skinned 
with the hooked nose and wart that one might expect -- in an 
attempt to clear it.

Dragon roared again from just outside the window as she peered 
in, trying to determine if she could do something without 
taking a chance on incinerating the whole room.  Shrek, 
however, leapt forward, interposing himself between the witch 
and Fiona, and waved Dragon off.  "I'll handle this," he 
called, and struck a defiant pose, facing the witch.

"Shrek, be careful!" Fiona cried out, uncharacteristically 
terrified, "there's no telling what it might do!"

"IT?!" the witch cackled indignantly.  "Look who's talking, 
little miss mouse-ears!"

Fiona's fright instantly evaporated in the heat that was 
suddenly reflected in her blazing eyes.  "Why, you scraggly-
haired, wart-nosed old hag!" she growled, balling her hands 
into fists and moving forward.

"Whoa!" Shrek said, and held a hand out to check Fiona's 
advance.  He then turned back to the witch.  "What do ye want 
here?" he demanded.

The witch pushed the portrait off her head, then stood up and 
brushed herself off.  "Where's this Farquaad fellow who's in 
charge here?" she asked, her own voice demanding.

Shrek began to answer but Fiona beat him to it.  "Gone," she 
replied, "I'M the one in charge here now."

The witch looked the ogress up and down.  "Really?" she asked, 
incredulous.

"Really, really," Fiona replied smugly, and crossed her arms.

The witch shrugged.  "Well, then maybe you can do something 
about THIS," she said, and reached into a pocket in her black 
gown.  Fiona dropped her arms and again took a reflexive step 
back as Shrek stepped forward so as to shield her better.  But 
what the witch pulled from her pocket was a simple scroll.  
"This is an edict from Lord Farquaad," she said, holding it 
out.  "He's confiscated my home for use as a 'resettlement 
facility' for an assortment of fairy-tale creatures.  Just 
moved them there from some ogre's swamp, they said.  Now the 
blasted throng's eating me out of house and home -- LITERALLY."

Shrek stepped forward and carefully took the scroll.  "That 
ogre'd be me," he said, unrolling and reading the document.  It 
looked like something from Farquaad, all right.  It bore his 
overly-florid signature and official seal, just as Shrek's 
newly re-won deed did.  "But I assumed that he'd just let 'em 
go back to where they came from."

"WHO, FARQUAAD?!" the incredulous question came from everybody 
in the room simultaneously except the witch, who had apparently 
as little experience with Farquaad upon entering Duloc as Shrek 
had.

Shrek just shrugged.  "I didn't really care where they went, as 
long as they got out of my swamp," he explained, passing the 
scroll on to Fiona.  She gave him a somewhat disapproving 
glance as she unrolled the scroll again and started reading it 
herself.  Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Shrek turned back to the 
witch.  "Anyway, what do ye mean 'literally' eating you outta 
house 'n home?" he asked.

"Just that," the witch replied.  "My house is made of edible 
materials, predominantly gingerbread -- although I did add a 
fudge brownie dormer last year -- "

"Hey, I've hearda you!" Donkey spoke up from the position he 
had drifted to toward the far wall, away from the 
confrontation.  "You're from that story with those two kids -- 
the ones you tried to cook 'n eat!"

The witch rolled her eyes and heaved a great sigh of 
irritation.  "Oh, good grief!  EVERYBODY'S heard that story 
about those two kraut brats!  The little urchins steal onto my 
land, start nibbling away at my modest little cape cod, end up 
tossing ME into an oven, and I'M the one who gets painted as 
the villain!  Nobody wants to hear MY side of things!  They 
just take one look at me, see an old, ugly witch, and are 
willing to believe the worst!  It's just not FAIR, I tell ya!"

A smile played at the corner of Fiona's mouth.  "Actually, I 
can sympathize with that sentiment," she confessed, and shared 
a knowing little glance with Shrek.

The witch paused, surprised at the unexpected show of sympathy.  
"That blasted oven was pretty darned hot, too!"  she added, 
"Here, let me show you my scar!"  With that she began to pull 
up the back of her gown.

"NO, NO, THAT'S OKAY!" everybody said at once.  

As the witch calmed down Fiona turned to Beaglely, who was 
still seated at the table.  "Do you have a blank scroll and 
quill?" the queen asked.  He nodded and quickly produced them 
from his briefcase.  Fiona walked over to the table, dipped the 
quill in an inkjar that Beaglely also produced, and began 
writing, speaking the words as she did so.  "All fairy tale ... 
beings," she said, "are to be immediately and unconditionally 
released from ... unwarranted captivity ... unless they may be 
charged with a specific crime ... pursuant to Dulocian law."  
She paused, looked thoughtfully down at the paper for a moment, 
and then continued writing and speaking.  "From this point, all 
such beings are declared now, thenceforward, and forever free.  
Further, no fairy tale beings are to undergo discrimination 
within the boundaries of Duloc due to ... race, creed, species, 
or magical origin.  They are to be ... accorded the same rights 
and privileges as human beings ... no more, no less."  She 
stopped, examined it, and then looked at Beaglely.  "What do 
you think?"  she asked.

"It's ... perfect," he said, the admiration in his voice 
betraying a rare expression of emotion.

"Cool," Fiona said, and signed her name.  As she looked up she 
saw that Beaglely was holding out the seal of Duloc.  She took 
it tentatively, and stared at it for a moment.  "My first 
edict." she said to no one in particular and gave a brief, 
rueful grin.  She then stamped the document, turned, and 
approached the witch, who had been waiting and observing, hands 
on her hips.  "Here," Fiona said, handing the scroll to her as 
Shrek continued to watch with a wary eye, "take this back with 
you and show it to any officials you need to.  And tell all 
those fairy tale folk they're now free to go home."

The witch read the document, then nodded, also impressed.  
"That should do her," she said, then squinted as she looked 
over the signature.  "Fiona ... Fiona" she repeated, the name 
apparently ringing a bell somewhere in her memory.  Then her 
face lit in recognition.  "Of course!  You're that princess 
that was locked up in that castle with that sunset/sunrise 
spell!"

Fiona raised an eyebrow.  "You've heard of me?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. We witches trade stories of all kinds of spells that 
one or the other of us have cast over the years or have heard 
about during our weekly whisk games."

"Don't you mean 'whist'?" Milquest asked from his position at 
the far end of the table.

"Nope," the witch replied, "we witches play WHISK."  She then 
held out her arm and snapped her fingers.  Immediately her 
broom, which had been levitating in its position in the middle 
of the room since it had halted there at her command, flew into 
the witch's outstretched hand.

"Please," Fiona said, an edge to her voice, "do you know the 
witch that ... cast the spell on me?"

The witch's mouth twisted as she thought for a moment.  "Nope, 
can't say as I remember.  She wasn't in our club, at least not 
recently.  Of course, even if I did know, I really couldn't 
say.  Professional courtesy, y'know."  The witch paused, then, 
nodding toward Shrek, asked, "Your 'true love', I assume?"

Fiona paused for a moment.  Shrek looked back at her.  She 
smiled at him.

"Very much so," Fiona replied, her voice tender, "at least, 
when he isn't driving me up a wall."  Shrek smiled shyly back, 
blushing a bit.

"Well, then maybe things didn't work out so bad, eh?" the witch 
asked, stuffing the scroll into a pocket.  "You two make a cute 
couple.  Well, thanks.  If there's anything I can do for you, 
just let me know."

"Wait!" Fiona said, suddenly remembering something herself, 
"There is!"  She then hurried over to a closet, opened it, took 
out the Momma Bear rug, and carried it over to the witch.  "Is 
it possible to ... to restore her?  She's the wife and mother 
to a couple of the fairy tale beings who are probably at your 
house."

"Hummm," the witch said, looking over the rug draped in Fiona's 
arms.  She then lifted its head, examined it, peeked into the 
mouth from which a lolling tongue hung, then let the head flop 
back down.

"I've seen worse," the witch said, "Here, I'll see what I can 
do.  It may take a day or two, but I'll see if I can't knock 
the stuffing back into her."

"Thank you!" Fiona said, handing the rug over to the witch.

The witch took the rug from Fiona and then straddled her broom.  
"Now," she said, "if you wouldn't mind clearing me with your 
air traffic controller out there..."

"Oh!" Fiona said, "of course.  She turned to the window, where 
Dragon was still staring inside at them.  She was apparently 
clinging to the balcony and stone wall.  Fiona tried to address 
Dragon directly, but suddenly found her tongue frozen.  She 
turned instead to Donkey.  "Donkey, would you mind?"

"Huh?" Donkey said, momentarily surprised.  But then he caught 
on.  "Oh, sure!"  he turned to Dragon.  "You might wanna move 
over and let Broom Hilda by, Babe," he said, "it's okay, 
everything's cool."

Dragon smiled at him, and again Fiona caught that glint in her 
eyes that she did not believe could be possible.  Dragon let go 
and flew back across the street, retaking her perch on the 
church roof.

"Okay," the witch said, "uh, thanks.  And ciao!"  She then 
pointed to the open window and spoke to her broom with a 
booming voice, "TO INFINITY, AND --" her last words were lost 
to the small group as the broom quickly whisked itself and its 
rider out the window and into the Dulocian night.

Fiona wandered onto the balcony and looked across at Dragon.  A 
thought then came to her.  "Donkey," she said, "why don't you 
spend some time with Dragon?  She looks ... lonely out there."

"She's supposed t'look intimidatin'" Shrek noted.

Fiona shrugged.  "She looks ... both," she said, then turned 
back at her equine friend.  "Donkey?"

"Oh, uh, sure!" Donkey said, and joined Fiona on the balcony.  
He propped himself up with his front hooves on the railing and 
called across to Dragon.  "HEY, BABE, WANT SOME COMPANY FOR A 
WHILE?"

Dragon's ears angled up, and she smiled.  A moment later she 
had taken off, and a couple of seconds after that was hovering 
over the balcony.  She held out her paw out to Donkey, and 
batted her foot-long lashes at him.