A/N: Wow, I really thought this would be the end but there's still so much to be said amongst them and a few extra gags to jam in. Sorry as usual for how long I've been taking...I'm on the last stretch of my 2nd year at Uni so I've been writing other stuff. Also blame online gaming and cute boyfriend. I would have written more but I've got into the habit of writing 2 A4 page chapters so there will be at least one more to go. Damn it, or maybe hooray? Whichever you choose. Hope you enjoy and thank you as always for the reviews! DFQ xxx
Mr Wonka and Morton Rainey came over the hill to the sounds of raucous singing and idle banter. Jack had decided it was the apt time to teach Edward, Constable Crane and a troop of Oompa Loompas his current favourite song. Of course it was the pirate captain himself who was singing the loudest and most discordantly.
"… we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs! Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
"Mr Sparrow, are you quite sure this is a real pirate song?"
"O' course it is, Bodders, one o' the best there is too. Few ditties can a pirate know that aren't to be saying things of murder, pillaging and gold. Sadly the creative genius that is the art of song writing is few and far between the likes of my kind. Now this one, this one's my own, mate. None o' that awful stuff that blackens the name of the freedom of being a good man but a scallywag as well!"
He grinned at Edward who was still chanting happily, a team of Wonka's workers dancing about him.
"Not to discredit your claims, Jack, but the song seems vaguely familiar as something most children get taught when they first hear about pirates," Ichabod pointed out. "It would be doubtful that it would originate from the teachings of a pirate himself."
"You're just jealous, Crane. Jealous of the many talents of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack replied, parading himself before the giggling Oompa Loompas.
The constable spied Mort as he walked onto the scene.
"Ah, Mr Rainey, perhaps you would shed some light on the subject? Did Mr Sparrow invent this song?"
Mort creased his brow in the strain of thought, granting the pirate a smidgeon of hope that the writer would not be able to betray him. Then Mort smiled cruelly at Jack over Ichabod's shoulder.
"He got marooned on an island with the daughter of a governor. She taught him the song after he got himself legless with a bottle of rum," he laughed as Jack waved his arms desperately to shut him up.
A sudden yapping echoed from the riverbanks, causing the companions to turn their heads.
The Werepretzel puppy shook off a myriad of chocolate droplets and bounded for the pirate. Jack yelled as he was bowled to the floor. The others gasped but then burst into laughter as the excited creature started licking Jack's face.
Mr Wonka moved closer to see what was happening.
"Oh yeah," he said. "My workers informed me of the disturbance you guys caused in my Werepretzel lair. You fought off the leader, now that little tyke most probably sees you as the boss."
Jack sat up, gently pushing the canine pretzel away.
"I'd forgotten about that. Is the ringleader safe?" he wondered.
"He's been better," the chocolatier grumbled. "But he's all patched up. They heal pretty quickly."
The pirate smiled and scratched the Werepretzel's head softly, taking care not to puncture the dough.
"I was meaning to ask you about that, Mr Wonka," said Ichabod. "Whatever are these things doing in a chocolate factory? You surely don't let people eat them?"
William was shocked.
"Oh my dear constable, no! Ew! Such an idea is unthinkable. That and we'd have an epidemic of werewolves on our hands. No, these are my loyal test subjects. I can't very well go experimenting on humans and I certainly don't want to resort to animal cruelty. It would be even more dangerous to attempt this work on my Oompa Loompas. Instead I injected a solution into an inanimate form – a pretzel – that contained jam instead of blood."
At this point he leaned in to whisper to Ichabod.
"See, when the lycanthropy virus tastes blood it automatically craves for meat, but when I introduced it to jam, it developed a sweet tooth, haha! Though being such a magical disease, it brought the pretzels to life. Still, I can feed these babies on nothing but sugar and they're happy. Why you ask? I'll have you know that lycanthropy is a very serious illness and it's necessary to find a cure as soon as possible. With none of that silver bullet barbarism too."
"If you say they only eat sugar, why did they attack myself and Mr Sparrow?"
"They make excellent guard dogs, don't they?" Mr Wonka answered but said no more on the matter.
Perhaps luckily for the chocolatier, Ichabod's questioning was interrupted as the Werepretzel bounded in his direction in pursuit of an edible stick most likely thrown by Jack. Ichabod reeled out of its path just in time.
"You ought to let loose sometimes, Crane," the pirate chuckled. "Heaven preserve us, you might 'ave some fun."
"I'm more of a cat person myself," said the constable.
Mort and Jack made faces of distaste, Edward looked undecided. William, however, exclaimed, "Me too! You gotta admire an animal that takes pride in its appearance. Nuttin' wrong with that I tell ya, not a whisker, heehee!"
He cleared his throat at the silence that followed, though it was not as uncomfortable as usual.
"Okay then, I think we've all done enough stallin'. If ya could all gather round and say your goodbyes and whatchamacallums, you can all go back where ya belong before ya cause any more damage."
He made a toothy smile.
At these words there was much hand shaking, or in Jack's case hugging, since he was the least afraid to show his companionable nature – unpleasant though it was for the receiver of his shall we say aromatic embraces.
Mr Wonka gave out his marble-like sweets offhandedly whilst they were busy talking.
"Providence be with you, Bodders me ol' mate. I wouldn't wanna be facin' that 'orseman with mortal flesh an' the like. Especially not yours. No offence."
"Very little taken, Mr Sparrow. Jack. Captain," Ichabod chuckled. "I'm sure I'll find it much more bearable now you've helped me realise as to why he's doing these awful deeds. Good luck with retrieving your ship."
The pirate frowned.
"I never tol' you I'd lost a ship."
The constable smirked at him.
"You give away more than you know, Jack. The way you were crooning over that boat of Mr Wonka's, never once mentioning a young lady who'd won your affections…the trinkets in your hair. You strike me as a very materialistic fellow. I noticed earlier you were even moaning about some sort of hat you'd lost. And, well, a pirate captain without his ship is just…tragic."
Jack grinned.
"Got yer detective streak back it seems."
"All right everyone," William called. "If those of you I gave sweets wouldn't mind suckin' on 'em, then you can all get on in the chamber. Mr Crane, I gave you two so's you can give one to Mr Edward."
The chatter died down and the few friends holding sweets looked at them in puzzlement. Mr Wonka bit his lip nervously as he saw Ichabod's lips about to form the question he was dreading: why?
