Oompa Loompa Takeover

Chapter 9

IX

"This is what you'll need to blow the place." Wonka said, handing each of them two opaque packs of some red liquidy material. "Lick em' and stick 'em, it's that simple. After that you've got about 20 seconds to get your butts out of there."

"20 seconds..." Miles said, nodding and committing it to memory.

"What flavor are these?" Gerald asked.

Wonka rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Bloody Albatross flavor! What do you care?"

"Jeez..." Gerald said. "Touchy."

All three of them were in the ventilation shaft directly above the only working entrance into the room formerly used to make Edible Marshmallow Pillows. Their target. Through the slots in the vent plate, they could see an empty hallway with two O.L. sized elevators inset into one wall. Wonka was sandwiched on one side of the passageway, Miles and Gerald on the other. Gerald had wrapped a rolled up bandanna around his head, making him look like some kind of blond karate kid, and it was already getting damp with sweat. The journey through the air vents had not been too bad, but now that they were all crammed together, they were blocking the air flow and it was getting stuffy. Miles was just glad that since the ventilation shafts were big enough to fit Wonka, they were big enough to not activate Gerald's minor claustraphobia.

"Get your head in the game," Wonka chided Gerald. "You're going down there first. Remember the plan. You see an O.L. and you drop him, then drag his body into the elevator with you. These ain't no Wonkavators, you just press down, and when you get there, wait for Peter Pan over here." Wonka gestured toward Miles. "He may be a minute, because just like you, he'll have to wait for an Oompa Loompa to come by and punch the code in before he can drop him and come down, so don't get jumpy on the explosives."

Gerald nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Once you're in, stash the unconscious O.L., plant your charges and get out. Something like that anyway, once you're in, you'll have to figure that out. Now, unlike them, we aren't telepathic, so this is how we'll communicate." Wonka said, handing them some earpieces. "Keep me in the loop, and if something goes wrong, alert me right away."

"Wait...they're telepathic?" Miles asked, shocked.

Wonka looked at him. "Yeah, how else did you think they knew what the hell the other ones were going to sing?"

"I knew it!" Gerald cried pumping his fist as much as he could in their cramped situation. "They're a-sexual too, right?"

Just then, an Oompa Loompa entered the room and made his way to one of the elevators. He went to the keypad and began punching in the code.

"That's your target. Go get him." Wonka whispered. He punched the vent plate, it unlatched on one side and swung open with a clang. The Oompa Loompa had just finished his code, the door to the elevator just beginning to open when Gerald dropped down from the ceiling. Landing like a cat, Gerald swung out and kicked the O.L.'s stubby legs out from under him. The O.L. fell flat on his ass. That didn't stop him from reaching for the weapon holstered to his leg. Gerald stopped him with a quick sucker punch in the face.

With that, Gerald pulled the unconscious body with him into the elevator and punched the button. As the doors closed, he let out a war cry and pounded his chest. "St. Crispin's DAAAAYY!"

Miles and Wonka cringed. Anyone within a 50 ft radius would have heard him. Idiot! Miles thought. Wonka reached down and pulled the vent plate back up and into the ceiling. They waited for a moment, expecting guards to come rushing in. But no one came.

Miles nodded, approving. It was a succes then. He only hoped his own ascent would be as quick and uneventful.

"What the hell's wrong with him?!" Wonka whispered harshly.

"What?" Miles asked.

"What is up with him? Why is he so...so...so the way he is?!" Wonka demanded.

Miles shrugged. "I don't know."

"Fuck..." Wonka muttered.

Miles looked at Wonka. "I have a theory though."

Wonka narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."

"He was overweight before the Takeover. Like, child obesity levels. When all the chocolate giveaway's started, his parents didn't allow him to eat any of it because he was supposed to be losing weight. Well, they saved his life, even if they didn't abstain from the chocolate themselves and save their own. But, Gerald told me that he did eat some chocolate." Miles nodded at Wonka's look of disbelief. "He filched half a Wonka bar. It wasn't enough to kill him, though. While everyone else just never woke up, he got really sick. He couldn't eat anything for a week, he was blowing chunks everywhere. And then...he just got better. Now he says that there was no permanent damage to his internal organs or anything. And that may be true, but what can't be proved is that it didn't do anything to his brain."

Wonka seemed to consider this.

Miles shrugged. "He's actually mellowed out a little lately, he's been worse. It's just my theory. Don't tell Gerald."

"That actually explains a lot." Wonka said. He actually looked impressed."Considering that, you're right, he's doing pretty good."

"Hey, you idiots! You do realize I just heard everything you just said, right?!" A voice squawked in both their ears.

Miles and Wonka both stared at each other in shock. Of course, the earpieces were already on and working. Miles clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. Wonka did the same, the two snickering as quietly as they could.

"You assholes, I can hear you laughing!" Gerald swore. "I'll deal with you two later, I just made it to the room."

"I'll be coming soon." Miles whispered as an Oompa Loompa entered the hallway. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually laughed. It felt good. Hopefully I'll live long enough to do it again. Miles thought as he watched the O.L. finish punching it's code into the keypad.

"Get that sonavabitch." Wonka said as he released his grip on the vent screen.

Miles gave Wonka a grin before launching himself down and going all kung fu on the unsuspecting enemy.

Another success, only a moment later he was crammed in the elevator with the unconscious O.L. on his way down into the room. Miles wished he could have killed the orange menace, but gunshot had been out of the question, since it would cause too much noise. "I'm almost there, Gerald." Miles said.

"Yeah well, hurry." Gerald responded. "Cause you're gonna wanna see this."

"What is it? Something bad?"

"Yeah. Real bad."

What was it? Miles's mind raced as he made his way down. Hordes of Oompa Loompas? A giant weapon? Miles chewed his lip. It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Like they always did, Gerald and him. We'll figure it--

The lift suddenly stopped and the doors to the elevator slid open. Miles's eyes grew wide. Gerald had said it was bad. Dear Lord, it was worse.