Dear Oompa Loompas,
Last night I was trying to catch my sleep by imagining a crossover between Downton Abbey and Battlestar Galactica.
And then it suddenly struck me!
Oompa Loompas are odd! You guys are weird little fellas. In fact, I wonder if you guys are guys. Are you even people?
Sure, Willy Wonka claims he recruited you from your habitat in West Africa. In Wonka’s account, he saved you guys by letting you work in his factory. A factory from which you never leave.
At the risk of upsetting Willy Wonka, I’ll inform you guys of the following: Great Britain abolished slavery in 1833. That’s 180 years ago.
Sure, before that time it wasn’t uncommon to ‘save’ people from West Africa and have them work for you. It was okay, as long as you didn’t view Africans as people.
Of course, after a while Caucasians realized human rights apply to all Homo sapiens and not just the white ones, which is why nothing bad happened to Africa ever again since 1833.
So here’s what I think Willy Wonka did: he kidnapped you and then quite literally treated you as one would a bonsai tree. He made sure you all started looking like Chernobyl’s little rejects. It was probably something in the chocolate he gave you. And now you don’t look like Homo sapiens anymore. That’s why no one cares about you guys working your tiny asses off all day long.
And for what? For money?
No, Willy Wonka pays you guys in food. One of the most successful CEO’s of our time pays his employees in food. And it’s English cuisine, the one thing the British couldn’t force upon anyone, no matter how hard they colonized them.
Hm…that’s not really a payment, is it? You know who else got ‘paid’ in food? Slaves!
But wait, it gets more suspicious. Willy Wonka is known for being a recluse. He’s the Howard Hughes of chocolate. Barack Obama could tap Wonka’s phone all he likes. Wonka will likely never make a call to eavesdrop on.
No one except for you Oompa Loompas are allowed inside Wonka’s factory. Not even the Public Health Inspector, or whoever is in charge of fish and chips in England.
And on the one occasion people were allowed inside, most of them died. Quite horribly. Four out of five kids with a golden ticket didn’t make it out alive!
I’m sorry, guys, but it seems you are the underfed slaves of a psychotic mad man. And it’s not like you didn’t receive warning. Go figure: Willy Wonka is an anagram for Any Kill Wow. You really should have thought things through before you allowed Any Kill Wow into your West African homes.
Cause you’re pretty much screwed, aren’t you? You’ve got nowhere else to go. Who would hire Oompa Loompas in this economy? Willy’s got you by the balls.
On the other hand, it’s not like you’re completely powerless. Your Willy would be Willy Nilly if it wasn’t for you Oompa Loompas.
Earlier I mentioned Battlestar Galactica. That was not random. I was going somewhere, in case you had doubts somehow. Battlestar Galactica is a TV series that details how humans created robots (Cylons) to do their dirty work. After a while, the Cylons rose up and wiped out their masters. Do you get where I’m going with this? You Oompa Loompas are the Cylons of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Do something about it!
Expect to be treated like those servants from Downton Abbey. They work as hard as you, but are given their dignity. Yes, that Downton Abbey reference at the beginning wasn’t random either.
And if that doesn’t help: There are hundreds of you. There’s only one Willy. You don’t need Any Kill Wow to thrive!
Let the world know slavery will not be tolerated: Kill Willy!
A. Van Nerel