Johnny Times Four

Chapter One: Jack and Edward                                                
"Sir?"
Jack heard a quiet voice. He sat up stiffly, realizing that he had been lying on his back in wet sand. He seemed to be on a beach. He vaguely remember a wave… losing sight of the ship… the crew shouting…  
"Sir?" said the voice again.
Jack pushed his long dreadlocks out of his eyes. As his eyes came into focus, he saw that the person who had spoken was a young man with wild hair. In the dark light, he couldn't make out any of the man's other features.
"Are you okay?" he asked in the same soft, timid voice.
"I'm bloody fine", said Jack thickly, "Can you tell me where I am?"
"I can take you to an inn", replied the young man. His speech was strangely monotonous.
"That's a start." Jack's limbs felt heavy and rigid. "Could you give me a hand, mate?"
The stranger stepped backwards. "A… a hand?" he said, his voice constricting.
The boy's mad as I, thought Jack. "Ah, never you mind, son", he said as he painfully got to his feet. He groaned and cracked his neck.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm right as rain", said Jack.
"Come on."
Jack followed his guide into a small port-town. The young man had a weird, jerky gait, and held his arms away from his body. Jack noticed that he wore a black trench coat with abnormally long sleeves. His wild hair was also black. Jack looked at his the face of his guide, which was now visible in the orange lights. His face was ghastly pale and covered in scars. His dark eyes darted around nervously. There was something inexplicably familiar about that face.
"What's your name?" Jack asked suddenly.
The young man stopped, turned around and looked at Jack.
"Edward."
"Call me Jack."
They walked on; Edward jerkily, Jack with his easy swagger.
Why didn't I give him my title? Thought Jack. "Captain Jack Sparrow?" In some strange way, it seemed to Jack that it wasn't necessary to be formal with Edward. Jack was getting a very eerie feeling, but he ignored it. The weird only intrigued him.
There were strange lanterns lighting the multi-colored cobblestone streets; casting a orange light on their surroundings.
What a extraordinary place, thought Jack as he glanced about. Some of the buildings looked familiar to him. There was a blacksmith's, a tavern, a general store. But others were utterly strange to him. There was one shop that had a large glass window, in which a gooey, pink substance spun and stretched on a  moving wheel. A delicious smell came from the direction of the shop. There was a run-down house with a sign depicting a pie, and a spinning red-and-white pole in front of it. They passed though a kind of courtyard, in which perfect, gigantic topiaries and ice sculptures stood silently, covered in mysterious snow.
Edward led Jack out of the courtyard, and they finally arrived at the inn. Jack immediately rushed to the bar and demanded rum, throwing a few gold coins from his person onto the counter. The bartender, who was the tiniest man Jack had ever seen, didn't seem to understand. Jack gestured to the barrel behind the counter, and then to himself. The bartender seemed to understand now. In a matter of seconds, the diminutive man handed Jack his full tankard. Jack looked about, and saw the room seemed empty, save for Edward, who was now sitting at a table in a corner.  
"Drink?" Jack offered Edward.
"Thank you", said Edward.
Jack motioned to the small bartender, and soon had another tankard of rum. He crossed the room and sat down next to Edward. Edward leaned forward and sniffed the rum. His pale face turned greenish.
"Lemonade." he said, and shook his head violently.
"Don't want it?" asked Jack.
"No", said Edward.
Jack shrugged, and downed both tankards at record speed.
After he'd finished drinking, he suddenly saw two men sitting a table across the room from him and Edward. He had not noticed them before.

Chapter Two: Edward and Jack
Edward couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, exactly. He'd ventured off the grounds, hit his head…  He'd been in the strange town for a few days, it seemed. The little town had all kinds of funny buildings. Some of them were very unusual, and most of them empty. To his excitement, he'd found a garden with enormous hedges and blocks of ice, as if waiting for him. He'd happily gone right to work, spending most of the few days making it snow and rain leaves. At night he slept at an inn, in which a funny little man waited on him. Then he'd discovered the ocean. How wonderful it was! How refreshing! At that very moment, in fact, Edward was shuffling down the beach, taking in the salt air and the beautiful sound of the waves. He was wearing a black trench coat with sleeves long enough to cover his "hands." He vaguely remembered struggling into it before he'd left the mansion. All black save for his pale face, he nearly blended into the dark night. Suddenly, Edward noticed a figure lying on the beach. His first instinct was to run away, but he did not. He approached the figure nervously. It was a man, Edward could tell that much. I should help him, he thought.
"Sir?" said Edward quietly, remembering his manners. The man stirred, and sat up slowly. He looked about, trying to see in the dark.
"Sir?" said Edward again, to show the man where he was.  
The man turned to face Edward. He said nothing.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked him.
"I'm bloody fine", said the man. His voice was deep and gravely and thick. "Can you tell me where I am?"
Edward hesitated. He didn't know himself. "I can take you to an inn." That was the next best thing.
"That's a start", said the man. He moved around a little. "Can you give me a hand?" he asked.
Edward stepped backward. "A… a hand?" This man had hands! Why was he asking for one of Edward's? Did he know? That made no sense!  
"Ah, never you mind, son", said the man. He got up, groaned and stretched. He seemed to be in pain.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked again.
"I'm right as rain."
"Come on", said Edward, starting to walk toward the town.
Once in town, Edward could see the man more clearly in the orange streetlights. He had long, unruly brown hair and a braided beard, both of which Edward would've loved to cut. The man wore a billowy white shirt and brown trousers, and a belt and assortment of rags, including a red one tied around his head. His skin was tan, his eyes were dark. Had Edward ever met him? No, he was sure hadn't. Why did it seem that way?
"What's your name?" the man asked suddenly.
Edward stopped and turned to face his companion. "Edward."
"Call me Jack."
Edward led Jack through his garden, noticing proudly how Jack gazed at his work in amazement. As they passed out of the garden, Edward resisted the temptation to snip at the nose of his topiary tiger. Once out of the garden, Edward and Jack reached the inn. Jack rushed immediately to the bar and began talking gruffly to the funny little man. Edward noticed two strangers sitting in the shadows. He quickly went to the other side of the room and sat down.
"Drink?" called Jack.
"Thank you", replied Edward politely.
Soon, Jack came and sat down. Edward sniffed at the drink Jack set in front of him. His stomach went sick. It was lemonade! Ghastly stuff!
"Don't want it?" asked Jack.
"No."
Jack drank the two cups of the horrible, stinking lemonade while Edward watched in horrified awe. When Jack had finished, they sat in silence. Edward took to watching the two men on the other side of the room. After a while, Jack seemed to notice them too.

Chapter Three: Willy and Sweeney
"Oh, fiddlesticks!" Willy said to himself, "I need to be more careful when I'm flying this thing." Stupid contraption! Willy considered the flying glass elevator one of his best inventions, but it was not very practical. He'd been out flying it after dinner, and had gotten to thinking, and in thinking, lost track of where he was going and how long he'd been gone. Before he'd known it, he'd hit some high winds, and the elevator had spiraled out of control. He'd managed to land it semi-safely, but now it was in pieces. "Glass!" cried Willy, "Why glass!? Glass shatters!" He sighed and smoothed his hair, adjusted his hat. He looked around, and saw that he was in a small, unfamiliar town. How far did I go? He could smell salt in the air- he must be near the ocean. A port-town. The multi-colored cobblestone streets of the town were quiet and lit by orange street lights. "Hello?" he called, and was not answered. He left his broken elevator and walked briskly down the street, and looked into a few shops. They were all empty. This is really starting to creep me out, he thought. He passed a candy shop with a taffy puller in the window. Taffy puller, he smiled a little. He had a funny memory about a taffy puller…
He kept on walking, and suddenly saw someone coming toward him.
"Hello!" he called, and waved. The approaching man did not answer. As he got closer, Willy could see that he was wearing a gray waistcoat and a gray tie, gray trousers and black shoes. His hair was jet-black, save for a streak of pure white. He was pale, as was Willy himself, but his eyes were dark and clouded, and had heavy bags underneath them. He looked tired. He stopped about a foot in front of Willy.
"Hello there", said Willy pleasantly. The other man did not answer. He seemed to study Willy. So Willy said, "Who are you?"
"Name's Todd", he said. His voice was soft and deep. "Sweeney Todd."
"My name's Willy Wonka." Willy tilted his head. "Have I ever met you, Sweeney?"
Sweeney frowned. "No." He started to walk away.
"Well, wait a minute!" He jogged to catch up with Sweeney's quick, determined pace. "Are you quite certain we've never met?"
"Absolutely."
"Positive?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Can you tell me where we are?"
"No."
"Why?"
Sweeney stopped abruptly. "Because I don't know", he answered. He hesitated a moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. He said, "There's in an inn down the street. Follow me."
Willy followed Sweeney down the street and through a kind of sculpture garden. He would've liked to take a closer look at the statues, but Sweeney walked fast. They reached the inn and entered it. Sweeney immediately sat down at the nearest table. Willy looked toward the bar, and gasped. Behind it was one of his very own Oompa-Loompas!
"What are you doing here!?" he asked him in Loompish.
"I work here", replied the Oompa-Loompa.
"No you don't, you work for me!"
"I've never seen you in my life!"
"Well I never!"
Willy, feeling put out, walked huffily away from the bar and sat down next to Sweeney, who was staring at him with a disturbed expression.
"He works for me", said Willy, "And he denies it! He says he's never even seen me! Well. He is simply full of poppycock."
Sweeney muttered something to himself.
"What?" asked Willy.
"Nothing." Sweeney motioned to the Oompa-Loompa, who brought him a drink. Willy stuck his tongue out a the Oompa-Loompa, and the Oompa-Loompa did likewise and returned to the bar. They sat in silence. Willy drummed his fingers on the table while Sweeney drank. After a few moments, Willy noticed two other men sitting a table across the room. He tapped Sweeney on the shoulder and asked, "Do you know them?" Sweeney shook his head slowly.

Chapter Four: Sweeney and Willy
The town was deserted and inconspicuous, just the way Sweeney liked it. The only person he had encountered in his few days here was the odd little man who ran the inn. This is a good place for me to be, thought Sweeney as he walked down the street. He liked taking walks at night. It helped him forget. He'd fled from London; he couldn't stay in that stink hole. He'd boarded a train and gone as far as his money could take him, and here was where he'd ended up. He didn't know where here was exactly, but he didn't care. All of a sudden, he saw a figure in the distance. Curious, he thought. Who was this?
"Hello!" called the approaching man. Sweeney did not answer, but kept walking until he was about he foot away from the man. They faced each other.
"Hello there," said the funny man. His voice was light and airy, and decidedly annoying. Sweeney looked at him. He was pale like himself, though his eyes were bright and blue. He wore a large smile, which revealed his stunningly white teeth. The man's hair was chocolate brown and shiny, also funnily cut. Like a little girl's hair, thought Sweeney. The odd character was wearing a long red coat, a high silk hat, purple gloves and high-heeled boots. Odd. Sweeney had never seen anyone like him. So why did he get the feeling he'd seen him before? In a dream or something? That couldn't be. He didn't have dreams. That was his one mercy.
"Who are you?" asked the funny person.
"Name's Todd", said Sweeney quietly, "Sweeney Todd."
"My name's Willy Wonka." He paused. "Have I ever met you, Sweeney?"
Willy was far too happy for Sweeney's tastes, forget the inexplicable familiarity. "No", replied Sweeney and began to walk away. But Willy followed him.
"Well, wait a minute!" he said, "Are you quite certain we've never met?"
"Absolutely."
"Positive?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Can you tell me where we are?"
"No."
"Why?"
Sweeney stopped and turned on Willy. Willy was extremely annoying. I have my razor in my pocket, thought Sweeney, I could do away with him right now. But as Sweeney gently fingered the blade in his coat pocket, he lost all desire to kill Willy. Instead he said, "There's an inn down the street. Follow me."
Sweeney led Willy quickly down the street and through the statuary. He didn't care for the sculptures- they were too neat. Once they reached the inn, Sweeney sat down at the table nearest to the door. Willy gasped and stormed up to the bar and began loudly making rude noises at the funny innkeeper. The innkeeper responded with his own rude noises. They seemed to have a conversation. Well, that's not normal, thought Sweeney. Willy walked over at sat down next to Sweeney, and too close. Sweeney scooted away.
"He works for me! And he denies it! He says he's never seen me! Well. He is simply full of poppycock," said Willy. Sweeney just stared at him.
"Loony", he muttered.
"What?" asked Willy, who'd heard him.
"Nothing", replied Sweeney. He needed a drink. He motioned to the innkeeper, who brought him rum. Willy rudely stuck his tongue out his tongue at the innkeeper, who returned the gesture. Sweeney rolled his eyes and drank deeply. After a few minutes, Willy tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. "Do you know them?" he asked. Sweeney noticed two strangers sitting at the table across the room from them.