Three years after the escape from The Chocolate Factory, two former slaves are now bounty hunters in their own right. They are Spearmint and Lollypop. They are...
Maybelynne: Smart, attentive, serious, bookish, focused, and shrewd.
Sadessa: Wild, en...
First the prisoner's had escaped and then the Oompa Loompas of Home had taken up the rebel cause and begun rushing through the hallways with shovels and hoes.
In one particular hallway, the soldiers were being completely overwhelmed by angry Oompa Loompa rebels. Soldier 238 managed to swing around his rifle butt and knock one of the enraged rebels off his fellow man. Then suddenly, in the middle of the swarm of violence, the soldier spotted something that stopped him in his tracks.
Grandma? He thought, his eyes wide.
Sure enough, his frail old Oompa Loompa Grandma was just standing there amidst the fighting, stooped over, her white hair piled into a bun.
Grandma what are you doing here?! He cried as he ran to her. You shouldn't be here, you could get—
WHACK!
Stunned, the soldier stumbled back a few feet. Grandma...what the heck? She'd just slapped him across the face with her cane.
She was shaking her head now as she moved closer. You've been a baaaad boy, Jimmy. She quavered, smacking her cane in her hand as she approached.
The soldier stumbled back and then his back hit the wall behind him. Grandma, no. Please. I—I— The soldier didn't know what to do! He couldn't beat up his own Grandma!
Moments later:
Please Grandma! I'll be a good boy! Please stop!
Take your beating with some pride boy! Grandma said as she whacked him across the rear with her cane. This'll teach you!
Jimmy's eyes welled with tears of pain and embarrassment. He would never hear the end of this from the guys.
NEVER.
Hahaha, yes, Grandparent on Grandkid violence. This never made the cut because, obviously, it's stupid! XD
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Deleted scene 2:
"Wonka! Please stop!" Yeltsin cried, grabbing onto Wonka's only real leg and holding on for dear life.
Wonka kept walking, now lifting Yeltsin completely as he perambulated down the halls. "Leave me be, Yeltsin." Wonka said as he trudged on, hunched over and cradling his left arm.
"You have to—"Yeltsin paused as Wonka stumbled slightly. "Lie back down! You could get internal bleeding! You could tear something!"
"There's something that I have to do..." Wonka entered the Telelite room and leaned heavily on the console. "Now get off me before we go through this thing and get fused into a circus freak-show act."
Yeltsin reluctantly hopped off. "Wonka please...Wesley's going to kill me!"
"Well, lucky for you he doesn't kill." Wonka said as he set the parameters.
POOM!
The two appeared in a room that was an exact duplicate of the one they had left. Wonka leaned on the console, a hand now clamped over his mouth.
"Wonka?" Yeltsin asked worriedly. "I told you you were overdoing it!"
"Shit..." Wonka said as he slowly rose, looking ill. "They threw out the Wonkavators for this crap?" He took a deep breath before turning and limping out the door, Yeltsin right at his heels. Literally.
"Wonka, can't whatever this is wait? Why can't I just do it for you?"
"No. This is important. Only I can do it."
Yeltsin sighed then and took comfort in that fact that at least he was here to protect Wonka, should some crazed loyalist come after him in his wounded state.
Wonka stopped in front of a large ebony door and admired it for a moment. The door bore two large embossed "W"s set together. Yeltsin could tell that at one time it had been shining, but now it was dimpled and marred, half blasted in and desecrated with graffiti.
"Is this..?"
"My room." Wonka said as he pulled down at a small metal sheet on the side of the wall next to the door. It slid down to reveal...
"A Lollipop?" Yeltsin said, confused.
"Gross..." Wonka said as he pulled it out. It was connected to the inside of the metal box with a cord coming from its stick. It looked like it'd been chewed to shit.
With a grimace, Wonka poked out his tongue and barely brushed the mashed lump of sugar.
The ebony door began shaking and with an audible groan pulled back to allow them entrance.
Yeltsin marveled at the interior as they came in. It smelled of dust and disuse inside but where he had expected to see everything in a frozen state of harmony, instead it was all in discord. The king size bed was unmade and strewn, books were scattered across the desk and the floor, as were socks and pants.
Wonka ignored it all, instead going immediately to another door.
Yeltsin anxiously shifted to the side so as to have a better view. What did Wonka come all this way for? Something secreted away in his private room...like a weapon, or a maybe a memento of his mother?
Wonka flung the doors open to reveal a closet filled with giant white shirts and purple suitcoats.
Sighing with satisfaction, Wonka pulled one of the purple suitcoats out and buried his face in it. "Ahhhh, Downy..." His muffled voice muttered.
"What the..." Yeltsin made his way over to stand beside him. "You came all this way...for a shirt?"
Wonka glared at him. "Well in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not wearing anything but pants and bandages right now! My old coat and shirt got shot to shit just like I did." He then proceeded in pulling out one of the white shirts and putting it on. His left arm was still heavily wounded and wrapped, and it was only with Yeltsin's help that he managed to button the shirt up. When he went to pull on the purple suitcoat however, he ran into a different problem. The sleeves were too tight.
"Damn..." Wonka said as he pulled it back off.
Yeltsin was about to say that maybe he would have to get the Oompa Loompas to make him something in a bigger size, when Wonka straight up ripped off the sleeves.
"There..." He said as he easily shouldered on the shirt.
Yeltsin looked back at the closet then, and noticed something lying on the floor of the wardrobe towards the very back. Curious, he knelt down and crawled towards the back to pick it up. Squinting, he crawled back out as he looked at what appeared to be a picture of a slim black girl with a voluminous pile of black ringlets cascading down her back. She was turned to the side, laughing and flipping off the camera with a devil-may-care look on her face.
"Is this..?"
"Midge." Wonka answered with a scowl when he saw what Yeltsin was holding. He took the picture from Yeltsin's hand and glared at it for a moment before crumpling it and tossing it across the room.
Yeltsin watched the piece of paper hit Wonka's bed and drop to the floor. "Flipping off the camera...that seems like something Sadessa would do..." He commented softly, thinking out loud.
Wonka paused in his action of grabbing a pile of suitcoats and also looked over at the crumpled picture. "Yeah." He said, his face troubled. "It does..."
(^v^) Well, that's it! But never fear, the story is not yet finished! All your favorite characters will return soon in another book! So keep your eyes out for it!
