A/N: Argh, still have so much work. So, so sorry as per usual. But on the bright side, it's still taking its time to finish so more enjoyment ahoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own that amusing show commentated wonderfully by Craig Charles. I also don't own some more references from that other Wonka movie.
It took various approaches to sign language to explain to the headless horseman what was happening. Mr Wonka had left it mostly up to the pirate, since the only way of describing time travel without words that he could think of involved modern day transport and that little ticking thing some people strap to their wrists – of which the Hessian hadn't the remotest idea of either.
As for moving the immortal Daredevil from his swudge haven, it took three of them. Ichabod tugged on the reins, Mort enticing the stubborn stallion with a handful of the grass, and Edward lightly tapping its flanks with a blade.
Once they had all gathered in front of the renewed machine, Mr Wonka struck the square purple button to open the flap.
"Mr Crane, if you could just put your gun in there…thank you." He closed the little compartment with the weapon inside. "Hot, we're all set for our first departure! Would the horseman like to say his farewells and then we can get him back where he belongs?"
The headless mercenary saluted the group and then worked his way around, firstly ruffling Edward's hair with a large gauntlet. Jack received a hearty and manly hug. When it was his turn, Ichabod offered his hand to the horseman.
Everyone held their breath as the Hessian stood still facing the constable, making no move. Lightning quick, the horseman grabbed Crane's arm and pulled him into a startled embrace. All were in hysterics as the winded constable was released and the horseman now shook hands with Mort.
An Everlasting Gobstopper dropped out of the armoured warrior's sleeve. William's eyes narrowed. The horseman moved towards the machine but Mr Wonka barred the way and coughed disapprovingly.
"Guys. Search him, please."
"Are you mad?" Rainey gasped.
Mr Wonka raised an eyebrow. The others looked at the writer in surprise.
"Okay, so maybe I wasn't the best choice of person to ask that," Mort said reflectively.
Moments later, the horseman was suspended upside down and being shaken forcefully by the rest. A small pile of assorted candies littered the grass and still more wrapped goods were raining from the spirit's neck-hole.
"Blimey," exclaimed Sparrow. "'E's taken to thieving like a flame in a haystack."
"You told him to take all that?" Mr Wonka rounded on Jack.
"I didn't openly suggest it…besides he's outdone himself. If it weren't for the 'ead problem, e'd make a better pirate than I do."
"Yes, well, you're not exactly a very good pirate, are you Jack?" Ichabod smirked.
"Just so long as you remember me, Bodders. That's what counts."
"Right, I think that's all of it," the chocolatier sighed. "Put him down."
The companions set the Hessian on his feet again and waved him into the chamber along with his reluctant steed. Conveniently the chamber had been rebuilt so it could be walked into rather than scrambling underneath the machine's belly, reasoning that the space and angle would have been near impossible for a horse to cope with.
Mr Wonka tapped a few panel buttons and pushed a lever upwards, apparently setting the destination as best he could.
"That should scramble the codes up so they get read backwards. Like I said, reversal's the easy part."
The horseman used his last few seconds to click his fingers in Crane's direction. Having got the constable's attention, he proceeded to point and draw a finger under his throat followed by a mocking little wave.
Ichabod trembled. Jack was seeing the funny side as usual.
As the chamber door closed, Ichabod mumbled to the chortling pirate, "Do you suppose he'll keep his sense of humour after he's gone?"
"Not a chance, mate. Spell'll grab 'old of him soon as he gets back to your world," said Jack.
The constable sighed.
"Ah well, at least now I know he'll only come after me if I get on the wrong side of his master."
"Aye."
William had been listening, all the while his fingers drumming anxiously against one of his pockets. His gaze remained on the machine as it rattled and flashed. Finally the train whistle at the top blew and the chamber door slid aside.
The chamber was empty.
"Did it work?" Mort wondered.
Mr Wonka made one of his famous nervous laughs.
"How can you tell he got to the right place?" asked Crane.
"You can't," William answered.
"Then how -?"
Mr Wonka had barely drawn breath before Jack slapped a hand over the constable's mouth and interrupted, "Let me save Mr Wonka from 'aving to berate you for mumbling and we'll pretend you just said we can all 'ope for the best, eh?"
"So, are we going home or what?" said Mort, grinning.
The chocolatier scanned his guests thoughtfully.
"Well Mr Sparrow and Mr Edward look ready but you two are in severe need of a HsawAknow," he replied, pointing at the writer and the constable.
"Do I want to know what that is?" Ichabod winced.
"Oh no…" Mort began.
William ululated loudly across the hill, an Oompa Loompa rushing immediately to take his request. He whispered in the little man's ear.
"What's going on?" Crane muttered to Mort.
"WonkaWash. I saw it in an adaptation of his book. He makes you sit on an old beat-up steamwagon and near drowns you in foam."
"Almost right, Mr Rainey," the chocolatier said as his employee rushed off cackling. "However, I don't care for steamrollers or any great hulking, boring and goshdarn snail-paced antique. My WonkaWash, or HsawAknow if you say it in reverse, is a little more like…let me see…ya ever heard of Takeshi's Castle?"
"Uh, no?"
"Boy are you in for a surprise."
Mr Wonka placed his finger and thumb in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Engines growled and burst out into a rippling roar. Two gangs of Oompa Loompas tore up the hill on quadbikes, each man kitted with what looked like a great fire extinguisher on his back. Whilst the rest of them rode around in circles, two of the workers – one on the red team, one from the blue – ground to a halt in front of Rainey and Crane. They jumped off their bikes and gestured eagerly to the seats.
"Rules are simple, guys. Try not to get soaked before your opponents," William informed them with a mischievous smile. "Oh and by the way, if either one of you isn't covered in froth at the end, I'll set both teams on ya, 'kay?"
Mort and Ichabod gulped as they were handed their foam pistols and clambered onto their bikes. The Oompa Loompas on foot strapped the tanks to the new contestants, jabbering excitedly.
Mr Rainey gripped one of the handles and twisted it back slightly. He was rewarded with a growl from the engine. His eyes lit up behind his spectacles and he grinned at Crane.
"How about it, constable? Think you can cope with a bit of fun invading your morbid aura?"
Ichabod touched a handle carefully and flinched. He looked over at the writer and felt himself caught up in one of man's most irritating dilemmas. He heard the sound of Jack's voice in his memory implying he was some sort of garden flower. Constable Crane bared his teeth for a split second and sealed them behind a proud lip. He gave his rival a dangerous smile.
"Do your worst."
