Author's note: All right guys, you twisted my arm lol. Damn I was going for giving a bit a week so you don't catch up with the 23 pages I've written so far. But then people go suggesting things that I already wrote and I can't even prove that you didn't give me the idea P But yes, of course there had to be something going on between Jack and the pink boat, in a platonic sense, which shall be at a fanfiction chapter near you soon! Just not this one. Enjoy, and I'll try not to succumb to beggings . Thank you all for the wonderful reviews so far and I'd appreciate anyone who hasn't reviewed on the previous page to note for both if they have time :D


"Now that is a great trick," Jack said decidedly. "I never seen anyone carry so many knives in their 'ands."

From what they saw, it was a beast with the torso and legs of a man but with a large bulbous oval perched on top of its shoulders. Its arms splayed out at the ends into keen talons.

Ichabod had fled to a position behind the pirate.

"Look at its head!" he gasped.

"Oh that's not its head," Mr Wonka said, a nervous smile fixed on his face.

"Not its head?" the constable squeaked. "Then where is it?"

"I should imagine it's somewhere inside that jelly-filled pumpkin. It probably got its head stuck in one when it landed in the patch."

Jack gave Mr Wonka an incredulous look and mouthed the words 'jelly-filled pumpkin?' before shaking his head and turning back to view the awkward creature.

"Well we'd better see what we can do about that 'adn't we?"

He drew the cutlass from his belt, the edge of the blade stopping millimetres from Ichabod's nose.

The detective promptly fainted.

Jack approached the pumpkin-headed thing, this time strutting with the entire soles of his boots. He circled his wrist, making the blade swing in lazy arcs.

"You there with the pumpkin on yer 'ead!"

The something didn't stop moving. It wandered blindly, its knife-like instruments clacking in distress. It was then that Jack realised that it wasn't carrying anything at all. The humanoid's hands were like giant shears, each with a few extra metal bits for fingers.

Jack gave a confused smirk and called out again.

"You with the scissor thingy hands! Stand still!"

That worked. The creature stopped, its sharp pieces chattering as it trembled.

With a couple of elegant flicks, Jack cut out a wedge of the strange fruit. Then, flipping the sword over so he held the blade, he knocked the bottom of the pumpkin up with the hilt. Following an odd slurping noise, the pumpkin flew free and rolled off through the hard-boiled trees.

"Thank you."

A mask of jammy goop muffled the quiet words.

"Socks of Barbossa! It's a boy in there," Jack shouted in alarm.

Mr Wonka made a very strange noise – a high-pitched, tongue-waggling ululation such as the kind young children like to make.

No one asked, since a short man with an orange-toned face immediately popped up from beneath a plug in the grass. William proceeded to wiggle his fingers either side of his top hat and clucked loudly.

The little man bowed and dove back underground, reappearing moments later with the end of a yellow hosepipe. Mr Wonka took a few further steps back. He didn't bother to warn Jack as the Oompa Loompa rushed forwards and let loose a monsoon.

"Amazing!" William cried when the spraying had ceased. "Isn't he fantastic? Look at his hair, it's so wild!"

The man with the metal hands gave a tiny smile and nodded in gratitude. His face was pale as ash, like Mr Wonka's, but with various pencil-line scars on his brow and cheeks. The water had simply run off his shining black suit.

Jack didn't have that kind of luck. His shirt slopped against his skin, water dripped from the twin braids of his beard. He sheathed his cutlass and squelched closer to the newly revealed person.

"Hair?" he barked. "How can anyone call that hair? I've seen kelp with less tangles."

The pirate had a point. The poor young man seemed to have piles of curling cassette tape streaming out at odd angles from his head. And yet, it projected a kind of bedraggled beauty.

"Well hey there, little fella." Mr Wonka beamed, stepping over the unconscious Ichabod. "And what would your name be?"

"Edward," was the faint reply.

"Great to meet ya Mr Edward, sir, and welcome to my factory!"

"I thought you 'ad a problem with people mumbling."

Mr Wonka coughed. The purple plastic of his gloves squeaked as his fist curled against his lips. He glanced sidelong at Jack. These eyes screamed just try it.

Jack held his tongue. He spun on his heels to speak to Edward, a hearty grin returning.

"Enchanted, mister Ed. A thousand pardons for the attitude; a man can get a bit… cantankerous… when too long ashore. Jack Sparrow, Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please."

Edward smiled again but said nothing. He stared at his surroundings in wonder. Rolling hills of perfect emerald grass, a foaming chocolate waterfall plunging into a deep river, hedges bearing fruits of so many varying colours that they looked like mini Christmas trees.

William grinned. Finally someone had noticed his works of comestible art.

"You think it looks good now?" he said. "Try eating something."

Edward turned to him with wide eyes.

"Go on!" Mr Wonka urged, making shooing motions. "Scat! Taste whatever you like."

As he watched the scissor-handed boy scurry off to explore, William caught a glimpse of the constable. He was still out cold on the grass. William beckoned the Oompa Loompa who had been awaiting further instruction and knelt down to whisper in its ear.

The little man cackled and dashed over to the fallen Mr Crane, aiming the nozzle of the hose at his face. Mr Wonka had no time to stop yet another of his guest's soakings.

Ichabod leapt up, thrashing and spluttering.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice," Mr Wonka berated the Oompa Loompa. "Don't you go countin' on any extra cocoa beans today. Now git!" He nudged the sheepish creature towards the pit in the grass, watching sternly as it vanished out of sight.

"What was that?" Crane asked, pulling out a damp handkerchief to dab his face.

"An employee."

"I see. And what of the monster?"

"What? You mean him?" Mr Wonka indicated the young man who had just appeared beside the constable. He was munching happily on a variety of candied fruits skewered on his sharp fingers.

Ichabod yelped and skipped aside.

"He's not a monster," said William. "He's just a little different, aren't you Edward?"

Edward nodded over a mouthful of cream-filled apple.

The constable winced.

"How…curious."

Willy Wonka frowned suddenly.

"Is it me or do I hear a distinct lack of mumbling?"

All eyes turned to Captain Sparrow who was leaning against the trunk of a candy-striped cane tree. He was struggling to undo the cord of a tiny drawstring bag.

"Uh, Mr Sparrow," William ventured, laughing awkwardly. "Where'd you get that item?"

Jack paused in his effort, seeing that all the attention was upon him.

"I acquired it off the little pixie with the water cannon."

"Aha!" Ichabod shouted with glee. "Proof of your disrespectful behaviour, sir. You stole that pouch, didn't you?"

The pirate shrugged.

"Take what you can, mate," he replied.

Mr Wonka watched him carefully for a moment. He smiled thinly, a flicker of evil in his features.

"Say, Captain. You got a nice set of rings there don'tcha?"

Jack raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his hands. They were bare.

"You'd have to be pretty darn fast to put one over on an Oompa Loompa," William grinned.

Captain Sparrow pointed a grubby finger at the chocolatier, shaking with rage. Then he sighed and slumped back against the tree, more interested in his newfound prize.

"They know what they're doing. I'll give 'em that," he mused.

Mr Wonka cleared his throat.

"I think you should hand that over to me now, mister. It's not meant for someone of your height."

"Isn't he about the same size as you?" Ichabod chipped in.

"Duh. I meant the Oompa Loompas, and no, he really isn't. I'm clearly a foot taller."

"You're wearing a hat."

"Can't see as that has anything to do with it."