Willy Wonka was tight-lipped as he led the two salesmen out of the PEPPERMINTS ROOM. No doubt he was considering how to deal with the Oompa-loompas later on. When he had told them about subtlety, they had seemed to understand...perhaps he hadn't been clear enough. He contemplated this silently as he led the way back into the yellow hall.

"Mr. Wonka," Art said, smiling sheepishly, are there any restrooms nearby? I'm afraid I drank too much tea this morning."

Willy Wonka came back to reality. "I'm sorry...of course. He pointed toward a smaller passageway, that was marked by a placard that read RESTROOMS in both English and some other language that Art assumed was Loompanese. He nodded gratefully to the candymaker and walked quickly toward the restroom.

Willy Wonka turned toward Bill, who was carefully regarding the door on the opposite side of the hallway. It read SOLIDS ROOM.

"What is that?" he asked the candymaker. Willy shrugged. "It's only where I make the most delectable hard candies," he said, as if it was no big deal. Apparently the ordeal in the last room had checked his enthusiasm somewhat.

"Do you mind if we take a peek?" Bill asked. "I have yet to contribute a recommendation."

Willy Wonka smiled lightly. "Very well. As you wish."

The SOLIDS ROOM was much like the PEPPERMINTS ROOM...however, the color scheme was much easier on the eyes, solids instead of stripes. And instead of the great metal mixing barrels, these ones were completely clear to allow the viewer to see the translucent colored juices roiling inside of the barrel. There were also tall cylindrical vats of unknown function...Willy Wonka carefully avoided passing them by without explaining them. And everywhere, as there had been in the other rooms, were dozens of Oompa-loompas.

"How many of them are there?" Bill asked Wonka.

The candymaker shrugged again. "I don't really know. Thousands by now. They're very family oriented, you know. Love kids. That's why they like making candy."

Bill nodded. "Do you supply insurance for them, for their families?"

"I..." Willy shook his head. "I always assumed giving them shelter and food and a job was enough. There's more?"

"It's a policy that ensures that the families are provided for in case the main worker of the household is in an accident or contracts an illness, or dies." He scribbled the details on a sticky note and handed them to the candymaker. This time, Willy kept the note, stowing it in some hidden pocket in his velvet jacket. "I suppose I will consider it," Willy said slowly. "I like to protect my workers, and my factory. They're like family to me."

"That's good," Bill said with a nod, unaware of the Oompa-loompas, who were stepping closer to him with every word that was spoken. Suddenly, they moved forward and seized the startled man by the ankles, tripping him. He struggled and yelled, but to no avail. The Oompa-loompas tied his hands and ankles, then proceeded to drag their comparatively larger prisoner toward the strange, cylindrical vats. Mr. Wonka followed them, standing above Bill so that the prisoner could see him.

"I'm terribly sorry about this," Willy said, his voice honest. "But there's really no other way; I can't let you out of my factory. Not yet. The world is not ready to learn my secrets, so I cannot have you or your companions out to blab my secrets to everyone else." he seemed genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"So that was the reason the other two met those horrible fates? Robert? George?" He struggled against his bindings, but was unable to move. He settled for scowling. "They're dead, aren't they? And now you're going to kill me in some horrid way as well!"

Willy Wonka smiled. "As a matter of fact, I'm not going to kill you. Nor will the Oompa-loompas...or at least, they'll try not to. Fortunately for you, I rather like you. So I'm going to let you have the honor of testing a new sort of cryosleep." He chuckled. "I could spend hours explaining the process to you, but that is time I don't have. Your other friend will be done soon, and I have a proposition for him."

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Bill snarled. For some reason he felt more afraid for Art than for himself.

"Don't worry yourself about that," Willy assured him. "I have no desire to harm him; I want to hire him. Now, I believe you have a date with the Oompa-loompas." Willy tipped his hat and turned to leave, but not before the Oompa-loompas sang their song:

Bill Johnson, the insurance man

Has done everything that he can

To establish, to ensure

That poverty might have a cure

However, he was slow to learn

That all the money that we earn

Is paid not in bills or cash

Or coins or paper that will not last.

Rather, we are paid in FOOD!

In CANDIES and CHOCOLATE that taste so good!

And all our needs are forever supplied;

We get CLOTHING and SHELTER and FOOD till we die,

And even our children are benefited,

None of our assets are ever omitted.

So sadly, dear Bill, we find you unneeded,

Despite the fact that you had so heeded

The manners expected by our master and friend.

We're sorry, dear Johnson, but your song must now end."

The Oompa-loompas carried Bill to one of the cylindrical tanks. One Oompa-loompa, dressed in the blue coveralls of a technician, typed a command into the adjacent console. The wall of the tank slid open; The Oompa-loompas forced Bill to his feet and shoved him in. The technician pushed a button, and the clear wall of the tank slid back into place. Trapped, Bill pounded against the side of the tank, screaming inaudible obscenities. Willy Wonka watched him for a moment, then motioned to the technician.

"Do it."

The Oompa-loompa pressed another button, and the tank began to fill with a clear, green liquid, rising rapidly as air was drawn out from the top of the tank. Bill panicked, and tried to suck in a deep breath, but the liquid rose over his head before he got the opportunity. His thrashing movements slowed, until they stopped entirely. The liquid in the tank solidified, and Johnson was trapped, petrified in a mass of hard candy. Wonka smiled in satisfaction. "That should be it."

"What should I do with him?" The Loompa-technician asked.

"Put him in storage," Wonka said lightly. "That's what you did with the Girl Scouts, right? Besides, it's not like he'll suffocate. That's the beauty of oxygenated hard candy."

The Oompa-loompa nodded. "Yes, sir.