The makeshift poker table overturned, spilling the pyramid of pink peppermints it had been designed to hold. Shaking with fury, the headless horseman drew his sword and cleaved through the table. Then he kicked it aside.

"I know exactly what you mean," said Jack calmly. "There's just no fun in a battle where both sides win, is there?"

Daredevil trotted up alongside the pirate and snorted. Jack stroked the stallion's nose.

"'cept for the poker," he added.

The horseman pointed his sword tip at Jack.

"And the rummy, but you almost 'ad me."

The blade nicked him on the cheek.

"Ow! All right, all right. You would 'ave won Snap too. Your reflexes are a bit rusty is all."

He patted the soft pelt of Daredevil's shoulder before once again glancing down the length of the sword in his face.

"Must we keep on doing this?" Sparrow sighed. "Or are you resolved on this quest of mindless destruction?"

A few seconds passed where the horseman froze then, against all odds, he stepped back and sheathed his weapon. Jack was dumbfounded.

"What? That's it?"

The horseman shrugged.

"Why the change of 'eart?"

The response was a finger tapped on the left arm. Jack cottoned on to the game.

"One word," he said.

The spirit held a hand to one side of the opening at his neck.

"Sounds like…"

The hand now wafted in front of the collar from side to side.

"Wave? Smoke? Oh wait, is that where your nose is s'posed to be? Smell?"

The horseman gave him a thumbs up, then proceeded to form the letter 'p' with his fingers. Jack frowned.

"Sounds like smell but begins with 'p'? No? It has a 'p' in it? Ah!" His eyes twinkled knowingly. "You were under a spell?"

The spirit clapped and pointed at the pirate despite the fact no one else was playing.

"Right," said Sparrow. "So oo's been pulling your strings? Why've they stopped?"

The horseman shrugged again and snapped an invisible twig with his fists.

"Spell's broken?"

A hand wiggled side-to-side: 'Not quite'.

"Lost influence?"

Another thumbs up.

Jack beamed, pleased with his sharp thinking.

"Wonderful," he said. "So what 'appened to the, erm -." He grunted a few times and began his own charades game of pointing to his head and neck.

The horseman's shoulders sagged. If a cranially deficient creature could cry, it would have.


William put down the phone and turned to the occupants of the elevator, back to his sprightly self once more.

"The, uh, package is being sent up to the Chocolate Room," he said, mainly to Edward. "Administration said they'd punch in a couple of air holes so everything's just peachy."

Ichabod, who was still huddled on the floor, was bewildered. He remained in the dark about the gift-wrapped serial killer.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Nothin'," Wonka lied.

Edward intervened.

"Mr Rainey tried to kill us."

"Yeah but it's all sorted now," William added, impatiently. "We can deal with him later. No need to frazzle Mr Crane about it."

"Mr Rainey?" cried Ichabod, as Wonka rolled his eyes. "Good heavens! We left him right under the Hessian's nose!"

All heads turned to the constable.

"You know what that thing is?" Mr Wonka said incredulously.

"Well, I, uh -."

"Doggone it, now I remember." William snapped his fingers. "Mr Rainey mentioned a headless ghost when he was givin' us all that major freak-out."

"That what?"

"Oh. When he said you weren't real, and then you went on and let us all forget about it goshdarn the consequences. How could you, Mr Crane?"

Ichabod made a series of baffled facial expressions before he replied.

"If I'm honest, Mr Wonka, I didn't quite believe in that creature myself until now. I thought it was just someone fooling about in a costume. Or at least, the one that pursued me before I got here wasn't half as believable as the one that came out of that machine."

A sense of urgency finally caught up with the chocolatier.

"Where's the pirate?" he wondered.

"Ah, that's why I needed to find you," mumbled Crane. "We ran into the horseman. Mr Sparrow sent me to get help while he, er -."

"While he battles for his life?" William finished shrewdly.

Ichabod flushed.

"You don't understand! Mr Sparrow's not…well he's not exactly human at the present time, he-."

"Don't bum me out with your mumbling, sir. We all know ya don't like the guy, so there's really no need to explain yourself," Wonka spat, drowning out the exasperated constable. "What room were they in?"

Crane started to stammer again. He could feel the perspiration on his face as the purple glare of Mr Wonka's eyes seared into his. He couldn't remember what the room was called. It wasn't like he'd come through the front door.

"It…it had a lot of machinery in it…er, blue floor?" he tried weakly. "Low metal rafters, a round tub with a selection of floating coloured balls in…possibly?"

"Okay then, the Inventing Room it is. Are ya gonna get up off the floor or what?"

Ichabod gripped a hand on the rail above his head but stayed put. He cast a glance to Edward who was hooking his scissors behind the rail in preparation, and then to the Oompa Loompa who didn't seem at all vexed.

"I'm quite comfortable down here, thank you," Crane gulped.

Mr Wonka shrugged and pressed the button marked 'Inventing Room'. The glass doors closed and the elevator cannoned off into the void.