Shanghai Natives
Disclaimer: I take no credit in the making of Shanghai Noon or Shanghai Knights; if I did, there'd be a third movie by now.
"Ah! Can't you just smell it? The makings of stardom are in the air, John," Roy O'Bannon said as he exited the carriage, breathing in the air of Hollywood. A cart filled with rotting waste passed just as he took in another lungful of air. Moments later, he was holding his nose and gagging at the horrid stench, his senses overwhelmed by the horrible concoction of smells. Chon Wang grimaced at the sight as he stepped onto the paved ground. His younger sister, Lin, just smiled as she got out of the carriage, watching as Roy finally wave all remains of the ghastly odor away.
All around them bustled with life as people filled out their duties for the day. After the events of London, something not-so-adventurous was perfect for the trio.
"We're here Roy, so what now?" Chon asked his friend.
"Well, I do have to marry Lin over her," he said wrapping an arm around his fiancé's shoulders and producing a lopsided grin. "Then we can make you a big movie star with fame and fortune. Maybe even score you a famous actress lady, but first things first. We've got to get our luggage."
Roy had unwound his arm and approached the back of the carriage as he completed the last sentence and was now patting the trunk that carried most of their stuff. What he didn't expect was for the inanimate object to reply by making a patting noise as well. Eyes widening and grin receding, Roy knocked on the chest two times. Two knocking sounds were heard from inside soon after. A series of knocks and pats traveled between the former bandit and the mysterious answering trunk. A look of pure frustration appeared across his face as he grew sick of the echoes.
"Okay, what kind of vermin is in here?" he questioned, opening the trunk.
A mop of familiar chocolate brown hair stuck its head out and replied, "Charlie Chaplin at your service gent, or should I say 'sir' now that the queen has be-knighted you?"
"Neither at this moment because what I want to know is why the heck you followed us all the way across the sea and then some?" Roy demanded as the orphan jumped out of the trunk and dusted himself off.
Charlie contemplated the question for a moment, "You know, I'm not quite sure meself, sir. I guess it's because of the prospect of all that adventure that follows you. Also, you should've kept your chocolates with you. They go fast when 12-yr-old has to stay cramped inside a small dark space for a few weeks."
"Number One, kid, I don't believe that sappy lame excuse. Number Two, these 'adventures' of mine are a bunch of traumatizing events; for example, now I never want to go bobbing-for-apples because 'someone' kept dunking my head repeatedly in some dirty river water."
"I said I was sorry already," Chon argued fruitlessly.
Ignoring that comment, Roy continued, "And Number Three, you ate MY chocolates, so I'm going to send your behind and all the rest of ya back to Britain or England or whatever you call that folks call that country."
"Please, sir, anything but that," Charlie begged.
"Roy, com here," Chon said, gesturing his friend to come over and taking him off to the side. "Why are you being so mean again? He helped us back in London, remember?"
"Yeah, but he also stole from us, remember that?" Roy pointed out.
"Give him a chance," Chon reasoned. "Let him stay for know, but if he gets into any trouble I'll be the one to buy him the ticket back home."
"Okay, fine," he sighed. "The little rascal stays, but I'm only doing this because I'm a kind-hearted soul."
Chon just rolled his eyes at that statement as Roy turned back to Charlie.
"Alright, brat, you can tag along with us," Roy said, watching as the boy's eyes began to light up and his shoulders relax in relief. "But only on the condition that you keep your snitch-y little hands to yourself. You can't steal from me, from John or Lin, from all the other people in Hollywood, heck you can't even take something from that blasted horse that keeps pooping every five seconds over there.
"I think I can manage," Charlie nodded.
"Come on then, let's get to the hotel," Roy sighed once more. "I've had enough drama for one day."
"Mr. Wyatt Earp?" a voice called out.
The group turned to see a young dirty-blonde-haired girl standing in the middle of the road. Clothed in what looked like cowboy attire, though her gun holster carried no gun, she ran over to them. The worn dark-colored hat she wore had feathers attached to the side. Her blue eyes shone brightly against the sun. A small age-worn photograph was gingerly held in her brown gloved hand.
"Huh? What?" Roy stuttered, obviously confused. "Kid, how do you know my real name?!"
"I'm terribly sorry for the dram, but I'm Wren, your daughter."
To be continued…