I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Chapter 6
Color and a Pirate
We all know that Mr Willy Wonka has rather strange, if not exotic tastes. His room reflected that in no uncertain terms.
Jack looked around at the room he was standing in. The walls were striped with every color in the rainbow. The furniture was overstuffed, plush purple velvet. Jack took off a glove and went over to touch the fabric; he noticed one thing only, it was expensive.
Jack turned to look at Charlie, completely forgetting about his appearance for the moment. "I own this place, ay?" Charlie was somewhat taken aback, this man was becoming a wee bit too comfortable for his liking.
"Mr Wonka does, yes." "Mr Wonka, right." Jack took off the other glove and threw them on the floor. He looked around and liked what he saw. Granted, he was not on his ship, but whoever this man was, he lived like a king.
Captain Sparrow knew he would long for his ship, it was his love and life after all. But if Captain Sparrow knew how to do anything, it was to live in the moment.
Charlie noted how this man looked at his future factory and decided it would be best to divert his attention back to how he looked; for it was obvious, even to a boy Charlie's age, Jack Sparrow did not like what he saw.
"Did you want to find some new clothes?" Jack stopped gawking at the grandeur that was Mr Wonka's room and turned his attention back to the boy. "I need much more than clothes lad, to resemble the handsome scallywag I did before, savvy?" He swayed over and picked up a picture of Willy and his dad.
Jack took a long hard look at what he looked like now and decided to try and put his pirating ways on the back burner. He had a reputation to salvage. Captain Jack Sparrow could not walk around looking so... girly. But then, the egotistical pirate thought of something else.
"How do you capture people's looks so well in a piece of parchment?" "What?" He handed the photo to Charlie. "This is a photograph, it captures the moment." "How?" "I do not know exactly."
Jack stood there for a moment wondering if he cared that he didn't know so many things about this man's place. He didn't.
"You said something about clothes?" Charlie was relieved, "Yes, Mr Wonka's closet is over here." Charlie walked over and opened the door. Jack rubbed his hands together and followed him.
There were rows after rows of black shirts, black pants and purple tailcoats. Charlie had learned well from his Father, he took one look at the Captain and covered his ears. When he could see his lips were no longer moving, he slowly put his hands down back to his sides.
"You have any shops around here, son?" Shops meant two things to Jack, better clothes and alcohol. Two things he felt he was in dire need of.
"Yes, we do. But Mr Wonka hardly ever leaves the factory." Charlie could see the chaos in his head, Mr Wonka and the general public were doomed to be a horrid combination.
"Good thing I'm not Mr Wonka than ay?" Charlie looked really worried and started to protest, but Jack was already headed to the elevator, but he was cut short by someone who was rather short himself.