CoWritten Fic: Richard Woolsey and the Chocolate Atlantis

[welfycat]

Title: Richard Woolsey and the Chocolate Atlantis, or Why Team Awesome Perverts Is Awesome and Perverted, or Proof That Delays in Posting Challenge Results Are A VERY BAD THING

Written by: camshaft22, crazed_delusion, elfycat, lears_daughter, race_the_ace

Summary: Because all floating cities should float on a sea of chocolate. And be made out of chocolate. *nods*

Warnings: Yes.

Rating: A+ (and also R, for potentially disturbing content and imagery, and definitely disturbing characters.)

Note: Prior knowledge of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is not required to read this fic. You just won’t know what the heck is going on.

Disclaimer: No one on Team Atlantis had anything to do with the writing of this fic. Oh, and we don’t own Stargate Atlantis, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, or nearly enough pot. Some song lyrics are taken directly from WWatCF. Some are...not.

Word Count: 10,746

Cast (in order of hotness (order of hotness determined arbitrarily by whoever edited the fic last)):

John Sheppard - Charlie Bucket
Lorne - Parrish’s love slave
Parrish - Radek’s Second-in-Command
Kavanagh - Augustus Gloop
Jack O’Neill - Charlie’s Grandfather
Ronon - Mike Teevee
Teyla - Veruca Salt
Carter - Augustus’s Mom
The Wraith - Oompa Loompas
Radek - Chief Oompa Loompa Handler (not in the dirty sense, get your mind out of the gutter!)
Weir - Violet’s Dad
Chuck - Veruca’s Dad
Grodin - The Candy Man (and, yes, that is in the dirty sense)
Colonel Caldwell - Mike Teevee’s Mom
Rodney - Violet Beauregard
Richard Woolsey - Willy Wonka
Kolya - Mr. Slugworth



Major John Sheppard had, by now, come to the reluctant conclusion that he would never leave Antarctica. The continent was dreary, cold, penguin-infested, and, worst of all, lacking in chocolate or candy of any kind. A fitting, if depressing, place for the exile of a down-on-his-luck Air Force pilot.

One day, John was bringing General Jack O'Neill, a kind, witty, older man, to a super secret facility when they were attacked by some kind of dangerous, intelligent missile.

John was good at flying. It was the only thing he was good at (or so he was told), and it was only due to his impressive skill with a joystick that he managed to dodge the missile. This was a good thing, as the dangerous, intelligent missile was filled with cayenne pepper, and, upon impact, would have permanently damaged John's and Jack's esophagi.

Grateful for having been saved from this terrible fate, Jack--perhaps seeing something of himself in this rakishly handsome young pilot--invited John to come inside the super secret facility.

“Would you like to come inside my super secret facility?” Jack said.

“Why, certainly,” John replied, thinking that perhaps the super secret facility would have chocolate or ice cream or maybe even DVDs of Wormhole X-Treme.

Inside the super secret facility, John found wonders that he had only scarcely thought to imagine in his wildest imaginings. "What is this wonderful, secret place?" he asked.

“This is Chocolategate Command’s Antarctica base. We're looking for Chocolate Atlantis. What’s a spiky-haired flyboy like you doing here?" Rodney McKay, one of the best scientists around, told him, obnoxiously chewing a wad of gum. "Go away. We don't want your empty head to ruin our chances.”

"Everyone here is hoping to sit in the lucky chair, you see," Jack confided to John, shooting Rodney a disapproving look.

John looked at the lucky chair that Jack had indicated, trying to figure out why it was so special. To his confusion, it was almost as if he could feel something drawing him towards it. "Why does everyone want to sit in the lucky chair?" he asked as he wandered closer.

“So that we may go to Chocolate Atlantis," Teyla Athos pointed out. "It's the best place ever. Chocolate is made there. And I will sit in the chair first," she said with her chin pointed out aggressively.

“Teyla, honey, it isn’t time to sit in the chair yet,” her father, Chuck, told her, cringing when she glared at him. “The hot chocolate isn’t finished.”

"But I want to sit in the lucky chair now!" Teyla shouted, stamping her feet on the ground. "Now, now, now!"

John was faintly horrified by the display. Jack eyed the girl and shook his head, glad that John seemed to be more behaved than that brat.

Ronon Dex, a tall man with dreadlocks and an impressive array of weapons, drew his blaster and shot it at a wall. The energy bounced dangerously around the room and nearly took off Rodney’s head, making him squawk.

Ronon’s mother, Colonel Stephen Caldwell, sighed. "Ronon. Don't shoot the walls."

Ronon grunted.

“Wait a minute!” Dr. Elizabeth Weir, Rodney’s father, exclaimed, staring in horror into the pot of hot chocolate. “Someone’s drunk the hot chocolate!”

Immediately, all eyes turned in accusation to Peter Kavanagh.

Peter, who was clinging to a mug, quickly hid it behind his back. "It wasn't me! It was him." Peter pointed at John. "He drank the hot chocolate!" The smear of chocolate around Peter's mouth did not quite support his story.

John rolled his eyes. "I wasn't even near it. Besides, you've got a mug behind your back!" he pointed out, his voice cracking on the last word.

Jack nodded. "John's right."

"Leave poor Peter alone!" Peter's mother, Doctor-Lt.-Colonel Samantha Carter, snapped, wrapping him in her arms. "He's a growing boy and he needs all the sustenance he can get."

Peter, who had stopped growing (except for his hair) at the age of 14 and was now 29 years old, nodded in vigorous agreement before pulling a piece of licorice from his back pocket and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Daddy," Teyla whined. "Can't I sit in the lucky chair now? I want to sit in it now!"

Chuck looked a little flustered. "In a minute, sweetheart, just a minute."

Ronon grunted. "Is it time to sit in the chair yet?" he said, wanting to shoot his gun again.

"Patience, Ronon. You'll get your shot soon," Caldwell told her son.

Ronon spun the weapon on his finger.

"No one is sitting in the chair until Grodin says it's time,” Jack insisted. Some days he felt like he was running a day care.

“Too late!” Daniel Jackson, an almost impossibly good looking man with very dorky glasses, exclaimed as he leapt into the lucky chair. “I’m going to be the first to go to Chocolate Atlantis! It’s my destiny!”

“Nice try, Danny boy,” Jack said easily, hauling Daniel out of the lucky chair. “You’re disqualified. I’ve seen you on a sugar high and it ain’t pretty.”

“My turn!” Teyla dashed forward before anyone could stop her, slipping into the lucky chair with giddy ease.

Chuck shrugged helplessly when the other parents glared in his direction.

The lucky chair began to glow under Teyla and she squealed in delight. “I’m going to Chocolate Atlantis!”

Rodney exhaled in a huff, pushing past Peter. “Move, you overgrown chocolate fiend! Get a real degree and out of my way!” he said, dropping his butt down on the seat.

Elizabeth nodded primly as Rodney lit up the lucky chair. “That’s my boy. Highest IQ in the universe.”

Peter made a dash for the lucky chair only to be shot at by Ronon.

“I’m next,” he grunted.

“These children are all rather ill-behaved,” Peter Grodin, the candy man--a label that never failed to cause some consternation among the members of the IOA--confided to Jack, his soft British accent not lessening the creepiness of his smile. (The fact that he kept offering people lollipops didn’t help, either.) “I’m not sure any of them deserve to go to Chocolate Atlantis.”

“Ah, they’re kids!” Jack said dismissively. (No one in the super secret facility was under the age of 25.)

Grodin frowned in the politely disapproving way that only the British have mastered as Ronon slid out of the lucky chair, which had lit up for him.

“My turn. It is my turn!” Peter stated firmly as he dashed up to the lucky chair and plopped down into it, screwing up his face in concentration as the lucky chair slowly lit up.

John didn’t understand why Peter needed to concentrate so hard. John could feel the lucky chair calling to him even from across the room.

Jack glanced at John and pushed him forward. “Your turn, John. Get up there.”

John shrugged, walking over to it. Before he could even sit down, the lucky chair lit up, spun in a three hundred and sixty degree circle, and slid back, opening the gateway to Chocolate Atlantis.

“What?” Rodney cried, gaping at the open gate. “This was obviously fixed, that shouldn’t have happened! I demand we start over right this instant.”

John shook his head in disgust. As a poor, exiled flyboy with excellent hair he’d always known not to expect much out of life. Getting to sit in the lucky chair was already an honor beyond belief; why couldn’t Rodney just be happy to have been chosen?

“It’s alright, dear,” Elizabeth assured his son as he pressed another piece of gum into his hand. “You’ll be the first person through the gate to Chocolate Atlantis, I’ll make sure of it.”

The other parents were outraged by this statement, making all manner of rebellious noises.

“No! I will be first!” Teyla screeched, stamping her feet as she pushed Peter out of her way. She was the most important one here, after all!

“Hold it!” Jack hollered. “Don’t you think John should get to go first seeing as he was the one to open the gate?”

The other parents sneered at him, their answer evident: no.

“I concur,” Grodin said, cheerfully thrusting a lollipop into John’s hand. “Plus, this way, if it turns out there’s a ravenous beast on the other side John can shout a warning before anyone else goes through.”

“Good point,” Rodney said, edging away from the lemon lollipop Grodin tried to shove at him. “Sheppard’s the only one here who wasn’t hand picked by the CGC, so he’s obviously the most expendable.”

John stared at Grodin, Jack, and the other “kids” who had activated the lucky chair. He suddenly wasn’t so sure that he wanted to go through the gate to Chocolate Atlantis, especially with all this talk of ravenous beasts. But, on the other hand, there wasn’t anything left here for him either; just flying back and forth in the endless, chocolateless, tundra of Antarctica. He fumbled in his pocket to find a coin to flip, but only found pocket lint and a partially chewed lollipop.

Jack shook his head at Grodin, really freaked by his cheerfulness. He shrugged at John, not sure what to tell him. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

John rolled his eyes at Jack’s pathetic excuse for comfort. “So when do we do this?”

Jack put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Relax, kid. There’s no rush. We’ll have a feast of gummi bears and ice cream before we go.”

“Really?” John said, his hair perking up.

“No,” Jack said, and shoved John through the gate.

John tried to gasp for air, only to find that he couldn’t. Colors spiraled around him and he was vaguely certain that he’d seen people and images float past and around him in ways that he couldn’t possibly describe, his vocal cords completely paralyzed.

John landed with a helpless thump on the other side, which he could only assume was the Chocolate Atlantis everyone was so excited about. He gasped and stared about himself in awe.

A smallish, bald man with glasses, dressed in a purple suit, looked down at John with a bit of a smile. “I take it you’re here to tour Chocolate Atlantis?”

John opened his mouth to speak only to be landed on by a screaming Peter.

“Mommmmmmaaaaaa???” Peter cried as the others continued falling through the gate.

Samantha kicked her way through the gate, hurrying to Peter’s side and hugging him. “I’m right here, baby. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re okay,” she cooed, handing him a chocolate bar.

John wandered over to the window of the elegantly constructed room in which they’d been dumped. “We’re under chocolate,” he said in awe, staring up through the thick, murky liquid, which blocked all light from this solar system’s sun.

“I like to keep the city under chocolate to conserve the freshness of the flavor,” the strange man in the purple suit said.

John stared at the man for a moment before dismissing him as a potentially restrictive authority figure and beginning to examine his surroundings, only partially aware of the others as they explored with their parents.

Jack followed John closely, keeping an eye on him while they breathed in the rich scent of sugar, chocolate, and wonderful amazing candy.

“Daddy! I want a room just like this!” Teyla demanded.

Rodney chewed his gum then blew a big bubble. “I like it here, Dad. We should stay,” he said, popping the bubble and blowing another one.

The strange man in the purple suit cleared his throat. No one paid him any heed. After a moment he began to sing.

“Come with me
And you’ll be
In a world
Of pure imagina--”

A blast from Ronon’s gun singed a hole in the sleeve of the man’s purple suit and cut him off mid-word.

The balding man gaped at Ronon, clutching the hole in his purple velour suit. No one had ever done that before! No one had ever interrupted his song before! He didn’t quite know how to respond.

Teyla laughed and clapped her hands before getting distracted by a tree that was filled with gum drops.

“Ronon!” Colonel Caldwell scolded. “How many times have I told you to speak with your words, not that silly gun.”

Ronon just glanced up at his mom then grunted and shoved his gun back in the holster and wandered off to look at the tree Teyla had found.

The purple suited man opened his mouth then closed it again and shook his head. “Well. Uh, how about we start the tour then?” he asked, wondering if this was the best course of action. “Excuse me. Could you all get into some sort of order please?”

All the “children” ignored his adult ramblings.

The purple suited man scowled and pulled out a whistle, blowing it to get their attention. “I would like an orderly line please if you’re going to come into my city proper. Otherwise, you can wait here and my guards will make sure you return to Antarctica in one piece.”

“Guards?” Rodney scoffed. “What guards?”

Just then, ten very short, very pale, very ugly creatures with pointed teeth and long, white hair, dressed in garish orange and green overalls and black trench coats, popped out from behind a rose bush made entirely out of spun sugar.

John stepped back against Jack, more than a little frightened by the sudden appearance of the bizarre monsters. “They don’t look like any kind of guards I’ve ever seen,” he said.

Rodney and the other children had also stepped back, eyes wide as they stared at the creatures.

“Those are the Oompa Loompa Wraith. When I came to this city so long ago--last week--they tried to steal it from me and take it--and all its chocolate--for themselves. Using loads of technology, I tamed them and put them to work.” He paused. “Of course, now that they are no longer permitted to consume chocolate they have to sustain themselves by sucking the lives out of peoples’ chests, but I’ve got my best people working on that little problem. Why, here they are now!”

Three men approached, bearing whips made of taffy. One was clearly the leader, with his diminutive build and balding head. Another was tall and skinny, with fair hair. The last was short, handsome and dark-haired, with an easy smile and what looked like a dog collar wrapped securely around his neck.

“This is my Chief Oompa Loompa Wraith Handler--I mean that in the least perverted way possible--Radek Zelenka,” the man in the purple suit said. “Accompanying him are Parrish, his second in command, and Evan Lorne, Parrish’s love slave.”

Teyla gave a high pitched yelp that caused everyone to cover their ears and look in her direction. Two of the Oompa Loompa Wraith were edging closer to her, their feeding hands outstretched. Before the Oompa Loompa Wraith tamers and love slave could react, Teyla broke a branch off of the gum drop tree, snapped it in half and fought the Oompa Loompa Wraith away from her. “This is my gum drop tree! You can’t have any!”

Rodney screamed like a little girl and hid behind John. “You’re the most expendable!” he said in a rush.

Ronon grunted and shot an Oompa Loompa Wraith, just barely missing Teyla. “I want to kill some Oompa Loompa Wraith now,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

The Oompa Loompa Wraith he’d shot screamed and charged at Ronon with his feeding hand extended, only to be lassoed around the neck by a rope and dragged to Radek’s feet.

“Bad Oompa Loompa Wraith,” Radek said firmly, bopping it on the head with a firm hand. “Eating the master’s guests without direct order is bad. No.”

The other Oompa Loompa Wraith in the room skittered and ducked a little at Radek’s words. They were obviously used the man treating them like disobedient pets rather than life sucking monsters.

“Please do be careful about upsetting them; Radek works hard,” said the man in the purple suit. “As I was going to say a few paragraphs ago, my name is Richard Woolsey and I run this factory. Shall we begin the tour?”

John glanced at Jack, who shrugged affably, then looked around at the odd little group that they had formed. The Oompa Loompa Wraith were still toddling about in the background under the careful attentions of their handlers. “What is there to see? Is this entire place made of chocolate and candy and other delicious and incredible things?” he asked.

“Correct, Major Sheppard. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get started,” Woolsey said. He led them through a giant door into a giant room that was made entirely of chocolate except for the trail they were walking on. “This is the chocolate room. It’s here where everything starts,” he confided. “Everything except for the trail is edible. Go on--try some! We use this room to mix and keep the chocolate fresh so it’s truly the best when it gets processed.”

Beaming, the “children” and their parents began to scurry around the room, snatching up miniature chocolate frogs and gnawing on what looked like a control panel made of chocolate.

Woolsey watched them with an indulgent eye. When it was clear that they were all engrossed in their chocolate consumption, he began to sing to himself while music swelling magically around him.

“If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanna change the world?
There's nothing to i--”

Teyla stomped on his foot, making him yelp. “I want my own chocolate room,” she told him imperiously.

Woolsey glared at the evil girl, then proceeded to kick her in the shin. As she squealed and hopped around on one leg, he wandered over to the giant chocolate bunny in the center of the room.

Curious, John followed him and watched as the man stroked the twitching chocolate creature. The bunny’s nose and whiskers quivered in excitement as Woolsey ran his hand through the chocolate fur.

“How do you make the chocolate alive?” John asked, more than a little stunned. As much as he loved chocolate, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to eat chocolate that was still moving.

“All chocolate starts out alive, here in Chocolate Atlantis,” Woolsey said gravely, scratching the giant chocolate bunny’s ears. “We raise all kinds of chocolate animals. Some we kill to make dark chocolate. Others die of natural causes and become white chocolate. You see all that chocolate out there?”

He pointed. John followed the direction of his finger to see the liquid chocolate that pressed down on the city from all sides, held back only by a chocolate-flavored force field.

“The planet’s entire surface used to be covered in living chocolate trees, until global warming began and melted the chocolate, which eventually became an ocean,” Woolsey concluded.

“That’s not possible!” Rodney said. “There is no way that chocolate could ever be alive. It must be some kind of robot.”

He proceeded to bend down and take a bite out of the chocolate bunny’s tail only to for the bunny to kick him in the stomach, smashing him against a licorice tree. Several branches full of licorice then pummeled him on the head, leaving him dazed.

Ronon laughed and then shot the bunny, making the chocolate turn dark. He grinned and broke off a chunk, eating it with gusto.

John scowled at him. “I really have to wonder about your parentage.”

Caldwell, standing three feet away and watching her son with a pained expression on her face, nodded in agreement.

“Daddy, I want a chocolate bunny!” Teyla exclaimed, pointing towards a flock of miniature bunnies. “Go get one.”

Chuck peered at the hopping chocolate bunnies then back towards his daughter. “Wouldn’t you rather have a licorice branch? Or maybe a dead bunny? White chocolate seems like it would taste better, none of that nasty brown stain when you’re finished.”

“I want a chocolate bunny,” she insisted, stomping her foot and crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis.

Woolsey looked at her with disdain. “Let’s leave the bunnies alone to make more ridiculous plots for people to write and move on with the tour, shall we?”

As everyone was dealing with the fiasco of dangerous and dead chocolate bunnies, Peter Kavanagh slipped away from the semi-watchful eye of his mother. There was chocolate as far as his eyes could see, and even more chocolate beyond that. Walking across the chocolate floor, he kept plunging his hands into things and licking them. Finally, he got down on the ground and started eating his way through the chocolate grass, which tasted exactly like mint chocolate chip ice cream, which was Peter’s most favorite food in the entire world, even on Chocolate Atlantis. He was startled when he found himself at the edge of a river of chocolate, but hesitated only a moment before greedily leaning forward to drink, not caring or pausing when his ponytail flopped forward into the wet chocolate.

He continued to slurp, reaching further and further over the bank of the river until he fell in and was sucked down, down into the tubes that took the chocolate into the factory city. Peter screamed for his mother, crying tears of manly fear, until he got stuck in one of the tubes, blocking the flow.

By this point, Samantha Carter’s initial hysterics had given way to cold fury. Drawing her sidearm, she stalked over to Woolsey and held the gun to his head. “Get him out of there,” she snarled.

Woolsey blinked but, to his credit, did not cringe. He was a consummate diplomat, after all. “My dear lady, I’m afraid that there’s nothing I can do. Your son is certainly dead by now.”

Sam smiled slowly. “Let me be very clear. If my son is permanently damaged, I will blow up your sun. We’ll see how much chocolate you produce when this city--this entire planet--is in smithereens.”

Woolsey cleared his throat. “Well, there is one possibility I suppose, just let me...”

He fumbled in his pocket for a whistle, pulled it out, and blew. A moment later, several of the Oompa Loompa Wraith came dashing into the room at full speed, followed closely by Radek bearing a chocolate cattle prod.

The Oompa Loompa Wraith gathered in a circle and Radek, Parrish, and Lorne the love slave moved to one side of them. Parrish raised his hands like an orchestral conductor and the Oompa Loompa Wraith began to sing.

“Oompa Loompa, doom-pa-dee-do,
I have a perfect puzzle for you,
Oompa Loompa, doom-pa-dee-dee,
If you are wise, you’ll listen to me.
Little Peter Kavanagh tried to eat too many sweets.
Eating as much as a hungry Wraith eats.
What are you dipping your ponytail into?
Eating so fast, you don't even chew.”

And with that the Oompa Loompa Wraith lifted Sam up and escorted her out of the chocolate paradise after her gluttonous ponytail wielding son.

John, Jack, and the others stood in shock, more than a little horrified to see the song and dance number the Oompa Loompa Wraith had put on under the direction of Radek, Parrish and Lorne. John was quite certain that his nightmares after this would be even worse than his chronic nightmares about penguins attacking the Antarctica base, their wings battering everything in sight.

“How did you teach them to do that?” Elizabeth Weir asked, intrigued.

“Oh, that?” Woolsey asked. “The real question is, how do we stop them from doing that. Anyway. Shall we continue?

John shuddered. “Please.”

Teyla smirked, glad that their number had decreased. More for her! Chuck watched his daughter in anticipation, eager to jump at her next command.

Ronon spun his weapon on his finger, looking sidelong at his mother. Caldwell shrugged, proud that her son hadn’t shot anything in at least five minutes.

Woolsey led the way out of the chocolate room, the “kids” and their parents trailing like ducklings. John lingered at the rear of the pack, just behind Jack, whom he was increasingly regretting ever having met. The back of his neck kept tingling, as if he was being watched, but when he turned around there was no one there. After several wary seconds of searching, he shook his head at his own foolishness and hurried after the others.

It was only after he’d gone that a licorice periscope designed to look like a licorice reed retracted into the chocolate river. All around, ominous music began to play.

************************

It seemed as if they had been walking for ages when finally Teyla squealed, “Where are we going? Why aren’t we there yet? I want to go back to the chocolate room and I still want a chocolate bunny and I want it now!”

Woolsey glared at the girl he was quickly becoming tired of. He took a giant gumball out of his pocket and shoved it into her open mouth, shutting her up. “Much better,” he said, relieved. “We’re almost there.”

“I want a gumball, too!” Rodney yelled. “Why does she get one and I don’t? I’m the one who’s awesome and saves the day and blows up solar systems!”

Woolsey eyed him and then pulled out another gumball throwing it into Rodney’s open mouth. Rodney choked and sputtered and Woolsey smirked.

“Now, as we continue on our tour of Chocolate Atlantis,” Woolsey said, “please note that any chocolate unicorn you see is not to be devoured. They are an endangered species here, as their horns are made out of rainbow chocolate.”

Ronon raised his gun. “What’s rainbow chocolate?”

“If you don’t know,” Woolsey said with a mysterious smile, “then it’s not for you to find out.”

Ronon raised his gun to try to shoot Woolsey again, but his mom grabbed his arm in warning, which delayed him just long enough for Woolsey to come to an abrupt stop in front of a rather colorful hallway.

“Where are we? Why are we stopping? Where are we going? I have to go to the bathroom!” Teyla declared once she’d managed to dislodge the wad of gum from her mouth. “And I want more chocolate!”

“There, there dear. It’s Chocolate Atlantis, I’m sure there is more chocolate,” Chuck reassured her, turning to glare at Woolsey. “Why have we stopped?”

Woolsey was still smiling his mysterious smile, though it was starting to look a little strained. “This is where I’ve been perfecting the most flavorful wallpaper that you will ever taste in your life. Go ahead, take a lick.”

John paused as everyone leaned forward to give a hesitant lick to the wallpaper. The last time he’d licked wallpaper it hadn’t turned out so well, but he was willing to give it another shot.

Jack looked at Woolsey and sighed, deciding to give it a chance. He licked it, paused to consider, then licked it again. “It tastes like candy.”

Teyla began to lick as well. Rodney, meanwhile, was chewing mightily on the gumball, which was huge, especially combined with the gum he’d already been chewing.

“Some day, every wall in Chocolate Altantis will be covered with this wallpaper,” Woolsey said. His eyes drifted over to Teyla before returning to Jack. “Once we figure out how to keep it from giving people explosive diarrhea, that is.”

Jack let out a curse and leapt back, wiping at his tongue with the back of his hand. Teyla shrieked.

Woolsey laughed, a little maliciously. “I’m only joking, of course.” After beat, during which Teyla let out a sigh of relief, he added, “The explosive diarrhea only happens to females between the ages of 23 and 27.”

Teyla went very pale.

“WHAT?” Chuck screeched. “Teyla, darling, are you feeling okay? Where is a bathroom? We need a bathroom! That is a very expensive dress she has on and it just won’t do to have it ruined.”

Woolsey reached into his pocket and blew the whistle again. This time two little Oompa Lompa Wraith came plummeting through the ceiling, followed by a half dressed Parrish and Lorne in nothing but his black collar.

“What?” Parrish demanded. “We were in the middle of something.”

Woolsey turned bright red and stuttered, “Escort these two to the bathroom immediately.”

Parrish muttered something about Lorne sucking his lollipop, but he and his love slave pulled Teyla and Chuck from the group with tired efficiency.

Right then, John's attention was caught by a passing chocolate unicorn. The unicorn stopped for a second and John watched as two small brown things fell out of its butt.

"Ah, pot brownies," Woolsey smiled. "Fresh, too. Any takers?"

John blanched as Rodney and Ronon each dove for one.

“Now that you’ve seen some of the local wildlife, why don’t we continue the tour. I’m sure the rest of the group will rejoin us shortly...unfortunately.” Woolsey led them away from the delicious wallpaper and the pot brownie pooping magical unicorns, further into Chocolate Atlantis, talking and rhyming all the while.

John tuned him out. He was rather good at tuning out people when they were talking to him; he’d had lots of practice with his commanding officers.

Something about one of the doors they passed felt odd to John and he stopped, resting his hand against the sugar coated wall. The sugar lit up a little under his touch and John smiled. The feeling of belonging was like nothing he had ever known before. It was almost like a song in his heart...

No, that was Woolsey starting to sing again, only to be cut off moments later by Rodney throwing a considerable wad of chewed gum into his face.

Rodney looked around the next room, glad to have stopped that awful caterwauling. His eyes lit up as he noticed a piece of gum on a nearby table. “What’s that?” he asked Woolsey.

Woolsey rubbed his hands together in excitement. “That, my dear boy, is one of my greatest creations: a new type of chewing gum that will give you all of the knowledge of the Ancients...but only for as long as you chew it. However--”

Before he could go on, Rodney snatched up a piece of gum and shoved it in his mouth. Closing his eyes in bliss, he began to chew vigorously. “This is--This is simply incredible--The knowledge! I know everything! Quick, someone get me a white board!”

His father quickly located a white board made of white chocolate against the back wall. Elizabeth wiped off the writing on the board--unbeknownst to her, it was the equation for the Everlasting GobPM, Woolsey’s greatest creation--and shoved it at Rodney, who began to scrawl on it with feverish intensity. After several minutes, however, he staggered back, his hand going to his head.

“What’s happening to me?” he shrieked.

Woolsey sighed. “If you’d let me finish, I would have told you that the gum in its current state of development forces anyone who chews it to ascend.”

“Ascend?! I’m going to ascend?!” Rodney spit out the gum. “There.”

Woolsey shook his head sadly. “It’s too late, m’boy. It was nice knowing you.”

“But-but the knowledge!” Rodney stuttered. “It’s all here! How can I ascend now? I have people to terrorize, solar systems to blow up! I have all this knowledge to wield over people more stupid than me--which is everyone! I can’t ascend!”

But it was too late. He began to glow. Frantically he tried to wipe off the glow, but to no avail.

“Don’t try to fight it, Dr. McKay,” Woolsey advised.

John suddenly realized what to do. He ducked away from Jack’s side and rushed over to Rodney, grabbing his shoulders. “You have to meditate.”

“Meditate?” Rodney squawked. “How am I supposed to meditate when I’m starting to glow? I don’t even know how to meditate!”

Elizabeth just shook in the background, terrified that he was about to lose his son to the realm of the Ancients.

“I don’t know why it works, I don’t even know how I know to do it, but you have to.” John paused as he thought of the best way to calm Rodney down. “Think, as hard as you can, about the best piece of gum you’ve ever had. How awesome it was and how you didn’t want anything more than that.”

Rodney whimpered and looked at the empty headed flyboy with a new respect as he focused on the gum. The most awesome gum ever. Unfortunately, he was already half gone.

Jack frowned. “Try telling the Ancients to go to hell. That should get them to send you home.”

Rodney glowered at the major and the general in disbelief as he turned into a glowy squid.

Elizabeth screamed and ran to Woolsey. “What am I going to do now? I need my Rodney!”

The glowy squid rose toward the ceiling and disappeared.

“Never fear, dear lady,” Woolsey said with a weary smile. (He couldn’t wait for the tour to be over.) “All of the Oompa Loompa Wraith who have been forced to ascend have descended eventually, though unfortunately they always appear naked in the middle of the Oompa Loompa Wraith dining hall. I’ll have some of the Oompa Loompa Wraith show you the way--you might want to hurry, as they will likely find the sight of a naked human, even your son, quite tantalizing.”

Elizabeth screamed again and hurried away, two Oompa Loompa Wraith scurrying after her. The remaining Oompa Loompa Wraith began to sing.

“Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got another puzzle for you.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-da-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
Everybody hates an arrogant ass
Whenever they talk it’s like their mouths pass gas.
Gum chewing’s great if it shuts them up good
As long as they chew what they should.
No one likes an asshole.
Oompa Loompa do-ba-dee-da,
Descending naked will leave a scar.
You will live in misery too,
Like the oompa loompa do-ba-dee-doo.”

“Huh,” John said, ignoring the singing and dancing Oompa Loompa Wraith, as otherwise they would give him nightmares. He stared in the direction Elizabeth had gone. “That didn’t go the way I thought it would at all.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Jack told him, patting him on the back. “None of us liked him anyway.”

“This next part of the tour requires some physical exertion,” Woolsey said. “We must now jog through the Halls of Mentos and under the Tunnel of Tums.”

“Tunnel of Tums?” John whispered to Jack, not quite quietly enough.

“It used to be the Tunnel of Love,” Woolsey said. “But all that love gave people heartburn, so now it’s the Tunnel of Tums. We hand them out as you run through it.”

John was more than a little dubious but shrugged it off. This part of the tour couldn’t possibly be worse than anything they’d encountered so far.

“Don’t even think that,” Jack said, whispering in John’s ear.

John didn’t bother to ask how Jack had figured out what John was thinking; he imagined it had been pretty obvious from his expression of mild hope.

“Oh, and look, here is our lovely--” Woolsey choked a little on the word “--Teyla back to join us. I trust everything went alright in the bathrooms?”

“Chocolate toilet paper is a bit much, don’t you think?” Chuck asked with an expression of disapproval.

“Not hardly,” Woolsey said firmly.

Joyously--or not so joyously--reunited, they all began jogging towards the Halls of Mentos and Tunnel of Tums. Teyla whined about ruining her expensive shoes, jogging like a common person. Soon they were entering another clearing filled with chocolate unicorns.

“Daddy! Go lasso me one of those beautiful unicorns immediately!” Teyla screeched.

Chuck facepalmed. “Now, darling, Daddy just isn’t sure that having a chocolate unicorn that poops pot brownies would be such a good idea.”

“I could use a pot brownie about now,” John muttered to Jack. “Why the hell did you get me involved in this freak show?”

“You have a destiny, Sheppard,” Jack said gravely. “A chocolatey destiny. I can feel it.” What he really felt was the effect of the four pot brownies he’d snuck the last time they’d seen a chocolate unicorn.

“I want a chocolate unicorn and I want it now!” Teyla insisted.

Chuck swallowed nervously and looked out at the wild chocolate unicorns, which were gracefully running together through a chocolate field. Oompa Loompa Wraith were scattered across the field, picking up pot brownies as were pooped out. Parrish and Lorne were overseeing the collection.

“I’m sorry,” Woolsey said. “You can’t have a chocolate unicorn. As I told you before--they’re endangered.”

“You can’t tell me what I can’t have!” Teyla screamed. She marched over to the field and latched a hand onto a chocolate unicorn’s mane.

The unicorn turned to look at her. “Bad pot brownie,” it intoned in a deep, chocolatey voice.

It bucked and Teyla went flying. Another unicorn used its horn to nudge her across the floor towards the poop chute.

“Daddy!” Teyla screamed as yet another unicorn grabbed her hair with its teeth, dragging her closer and closer to the chute. “Make it stop! I want it to stop, now!”

“Teyla!” Chuck shouted, running out onto the field after her.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Woolsey said mildly, shining his fingernails against his purple coat.

John watched from the edge of the field as Chuck was also mauled by the chocolate unicorns and pushed inexorably toward the chute. He felt somewhat compelled to try and help Teyla, just like he’d wanted to help Rodney for no reason that he could imagine. However, he couldn’t figure out a way to get to her without also being attacked by the unicorns himself.

“Can’t you shoot them or something?” John asked Ronon.

Ronon bobbed his head. “Sure, I could. But this is much more entertaining.”

“Will you shoot them?!” John asked, using his Major Voice.

Ronon looked him up and down, sighed, then fired a shot above the chocolate unicorns’ heads, stopping them from completely trampling Teyla and her father. “You owe me, Sheppard,” he said.

Sobbing, Teyla tried to stand up, tripped, and fell into the chute, her screams echoing up behind her. Closing his eyes in fearful resignation, Chuck jumped in after her.

“My,” Woolsey said, checking his pocket watch. “People come and go so quickly here.”

Jack stared at Woolsey. “I’m not sure whether I admire or hate you.”

“A bit of both, I imagine,” Woolsey replied wearily. “I get that a lot.”

The small--and continually diminishing--group turned to go, but found their path blocked by a herd of chocolate unicorns, each bearing four Oompa Loompa Wraith on their backs. The Oompa Loompa Wraith began to sing, with the chocolate unicorns neighing accompaniment.

“Oompa Loompa doompadee doo
I've got another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa doompadah dee
If you are wise you will listen to me
Who do you blame when your kid is a brat?
Oompa Loompa doompadee doo
Mom and Dad get totally whipped
and she gets more and more
like a spoiled cabbage.”

John wondered if this was what hell was, and, if so, what he’d done to deserve it. He thought it might have something to do with bludgeoning a penguin to death by accident in a zoo once, but then he realized that it probably had more to do with not letting that porcupine mate with his hair like it had wanted to.

The Oompa Loompa Wraith really needed to stop singing and John really needed to get on with his life. The chocolate city was kind of fun, but there were other things he'd rather be doing. There was a new hair gel he wanted to try out.

“Moving on,” said Woolsey.

John, Jack, Ronon and Caldwell all rather reluctantly followed Woolsey further down the hallway. Ronon kept eyeing John in a manner that made John think that Ronon was either interested in him, and not in the “hey buddy, let’s play some golf,” kind of way, or wanted to shoot him with his gun. John was a little bit worried in either case.

As they walked, Woolsey was explaining something about his wonderful Chocolate Atlantis, which John wasn’t too sure that he felt was all that wonderful anymore. Something strange caught his attention after a few minutes. He strayed down a little side hall as the group came to a halt. The room he wound up in was wide and open and there were cylindrical machines that were made of some kind of extremely hard chocolate and clear candy that almost looked like they could fly. John walked up the ramp, running his fingertips down the side, feeling the machine caress him back, in his mind.

Back in the tour group, Jack, coming down from his poop pot brownie high, looked around and found that John had gone. He rolled his eyes and hurried after him. His eyes went wide when he saw the flying machines and he quickly went inside, where he found Sheppard at the control panel. “Finally. Something good about this tour. You feel that, Sheppard?”

John sat on a very uncomfortable seat that was really a giant Hersheys kiss. “Yes,” he murmured, splaying his hands on the smooth console. “What is it?”

“It’s your destiny,” Jack intoned.

John sighed. “That’s the pot brownies speaking again, isn’t it?”

Jack shrugged and sat on the co-pilot’s Hershey’s kiss, wincing a little as the point prodded him in an uncomfortable place. “They were really, really good brownies.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, what you’re feeling is a connection to Chocolate Atlantis that only those of us with the ATA--Astonishingly Tasty Actors--gene can have.”

John had the uncomfortable feeling that Jack, his grandfather-figure in this strange and terrifying place, was hitting on him. The fact that the point of a giant Hershey’s kiss was currently pressed against his ass and humming probably didn’t help.

John squinted as he looked out the candy window. “What’s that sign say?”

“NO FLYING (THIS MEANS YOU),” Jack read.

“Who’s you?”

Jack shrugged. “Beats the hell out me, Sheppard. Sounds like a codename.”

“How could anyone fly with chocolate in their--” Suddenly the chocolate vehicle lit up and they slowly lifted off the ground.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Jack said. “You made the damn candy fly.”

“I just sat down!” John exclaimed. “How can this be my fault! It didn’t do anything until you came in! Make it stop!”

“Yeahsureyoubetcha,” Jack said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I know how to do that, Sheppard.”

“Great,” John sighed.

Suddenly there was a flash of light and an a well-dressed Asian man appeared before them. “Did somebody call for me?”

“And you are?” Jack asked.

“I am Yu.”

“You’re me?” Jack said skeptically.

“No, I’m Yu!”

“I think he’s me,” John said.

The man sighed. “No, I am Yu.”

John sighed. “Whatever. Whoever you are, why are you here?”

“Someone called for me,” the man insisted.

John turned to Jack. “Did you order Chinese food, because I know I sure didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t, but that sounds kind of good.” Jack said, but turned to the man who seemed to being playing some obscure version of “Who’s on First”. “Do you have any chicken lo mein? And what about some ham fried rice?”

“Don’t forget the fortune cookies,” John said absently as he tried to figure out how to control the chocolate vehicle. Nothing he touched seemed to help, but given that the seats were perverted Hershey’s kisses, that was probably to be expected.

The Asian man scowled. “I am not a food delivery man. I am an all powerful god!”

“Yeah, whatever. If you’re not going to bring us something other than chocolate to eat, go away,” John said, trying to aim the vehicle back to the ground.

The man sniffed in irritation, then disappeared in another flash of light.

John glanced at Jack, shaking his head. He just wanted to fly. That was it. This entire trip was terrible and it sucked. Could he just, please, do something cool like flying?

The Chocolate Puddlejumper (just named by John) kept floating up and up. It rose until it hit the ceiling, harder than John expected. The force caused the Chocolate Puddlejumper to crack open, dropping Jack and John at an alarming rate toward the floor. It was only by sinking their teeth into the chocolate wall and swallowing mouthful after mouthful of chocolate that they were able to slow their descent.

Finally, they both landed with an “oomph.”

John looked at Jack.

Jack looked at John.

They hurried out of the hangar and rejoined the tour with no one the wiser. Woolsey was in the midst of explaining some fascinating thing or another.

John feigned attention as he looked around, self-consciously wiping at the chocolate that had come off on his pants. This room seemed to be more technology-oriented than anything else they’d come across so far. Maybe something here would be able to fly, even though John doubted it.

“Psst!”

John jumped at the hiss, which seemed to be coming from a dark chocolate corner of the room. No one else had reacted, as if they hadn’t heard. Even Jack remained oblivious, as he was busy making ridiculous faces at Woolsey’s most recent foray into spontaneous song.

“There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly wish to be.”

John carefully backed away from the group and crept toward the corner. It seemed to get darker the closer he got. It wasn’t until he was a mere three or four feet away that he made out the figure of a man, dressed in chocolate camouflage clothing and crouching against the wall.

John looked at the man. “Uh... What are you doing?” he whispered, looking around. This tour was getting weirder and weirder by the moment.

The man motioned John closer. John hesitated before following. He had always been told never to take candy from strangers, but that Woolsey guy was about as strange as it got, and he’d licked wallpaper for him. So following some creepy looking guy in camouflage away from the dubious safety of the tour group couldn’t really be that bad.

The creepy dude led John through a side door into a room decorated entirely in gummi furniture. He gestured for John to sit, but John refused, both because he’d learned in his years as a flyboy to be cautious and because his ass still hurt from the Hershey’s kiss seats.

“Who are you?” John demanded.

“My name is Acastus Kolya. I am the founder, owner, and chief murderer of Genii Chocolates.”

“Never heard of them,” John said, unimpressed.

“That’s because you’re from another galaxy,” Kolya snapped.

“Oh, like that’s my fault. I didn’t pick where I was born,” John told him, not even bothering with respect. “So what do you want?”

Kolya’s blood boiling, he lifted his hand to backhand the disrespectful whelp and only stopped himself by reminding himself that he was here on a Mission.

John frowned, wondering if Kolya’s intense look of hatred meant that he wanted to get into his pants. You could never tell around here.

Kolya dropped his hand, trying to do this the “nice” way. “I want the secrets of Chocolate Atlantis. I can give you a lot for this information.”

“A lot, huh? What happens after I betray Woolsey?”

“I take his stuff and make even better Genii Chocolate. As well as weapons.”

John wrinkled his nose as he thought about it. On the one hand, Woolsey was really annoying and he wouldn’t mind much if the guy just disappeared. On the other hand, this creepy guy making weapons, even chocolate weapons, sounded like a bad idea. What if he turned his chocolate weapons on Earth and coated the entire planet in chocolate? John thought about it some more and decided that didn’t really sound so bad either.

“Well?” Kolya demanded impatiently.

Glaring, John folded his arms and tossed his hair. That had made up his mind where threats of a chocolate-coated Earth couldn’t. He couldn’t stand people telling him what to do, or when to do it, or pressuring him for decisions. It was just too much! “No! I’ll never betray Chocolate Atlantis!” John exclaimed.

“Fool!” Kolya reached into his pants and pulled out--John winced in anticipation, fearing he was about to be molested--a squirt gun filled with hot chocolate. He pointed the gun in John’s face and leaned in with a menacing glare. “You will help me.”

“Uh, no.” With that, John called on his repressed ninja skills to snatch the squirt gun from Kolya’s hand. He aimed the nozzle at his own mouth and pulled the trigger, closing his eyes in bliss as warm hot chocolate streamed inside.

Kolya looked at him, astonished. “That didn’t kill you? Oh well, this will do the trick!” he said, pulling out another gun.

John stared at the gun, relieved that it was an actual gun and not something worse, and decided it couldn’t possibly be much of a threat. The thing looked like it was from at least 40 years ago and like it hadn’t been cleaned in all that time. And it was covered in smudges of chocolate. “Oh, sure, kill me. What is shooting me going to get you?” John asked, rolling his eyes.

Frowning, Kolya looked at the gun and then back at John, who should have been cowering in terror and telling him that he would do anything if Kolya would just let him live. This entire infiltration thing was just not going the way he’d planned.

“Look at it. It’s covered in chocolate and hasn’t been taken proper care of,” John told him. “You can shoot me if you want, but it’s just going to backfire. You should really just get the hell out of here if this is your best effort. Epic fail, Sir. Epic fail.”

Snarling in rage, Kolya began to inch away. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Sheppard!”

John yawned. “Whatever. Look, I’m hoping I can skedaddle from this place in an hour or so--I’m really starting to miss Antarctica, and my penguin friends will be anxious if I’m gone too long--so feel free to attack then. For now, just stay the hell away, why don’t ya.”

“You’ll regret this,” Kolya hissed, and then sprinted from the room.

John rolled his shoulders and stretched. The entire day had been really kind of stressful, and to be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t sustained a blow to the head or crashed his helicopter and was now lying in a coma somewhere. But, if he was, there wasn’t anything he could do about it, so he might as well enjoy his time in this very strange place, if enjoyment was the right word for his experiences thus far.

He wandered back into the room from which he’d been lured and rejoined the group. Woolsey was just finishing his song. No one noticed as John stepped back in place next to Jack. He wondered if all this singing was causing permanent brain damage.

Ronon checked the charge on his weapon then grinned at his mom.

Caldwell gave him a proud nod, thrilled that Ronon had refrained from shooting Woolsey mid-song. It was a miracle! A miracle! Now if only they could get rid of that Sheppard guy and put Caldwell in charge of Chocolate Atlantis.

“So, what’s next, Mr. Woolsey?” Ronon asked, feigning interest.

“Next you shrink yourself--I mean,” Woolsey corrected himself, “I show you a miraculous piece of technology I’ve adapted from a device the Ancients created.”

In the center of the room was a wide rectangular item covered with a white cloth. Woolsey tore the cloth away with a flourish, revealing a...60” wide screen HDTV.

“Great,” John said, looking around for a bowl of popcorn and a couch that wasn’t made of chocolate or anything else edible. “What channels do you get? Do they broadcast the college games all the way out here?”

Woolsey blinked, obviously not understanding the question. “This is a device for chocolate,” he said slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.

John sighed. As much as he loved chocolate, he was getting a little sick of everything either being made of chocolate or related to chocolate in some nonsensical way. “Seriously? HDTV and you only get one channel?”

“Will you just wait until I’ve told you what it does before you start judging?” Woolsey asked, annoyed.

John frowned and shrugged, wondering if Woolsey wanted to sleep with him, too. Everyone else did, after all. “Get on with it, then.”

Woolsey hmphed. “As I was saying, this is a magical device. Watch this.” He gestured to an Oompa Loompa Wraith lurking off to one side.

The Oompa Loompa Wraith hurried forward, grinning a terrible grin, its hand outstretched toward Jack’s chest.

“Don’t even think about it, bub,” Jack said mildly.

Something about his tone made the Oompa Loompa Wraith back off.

Woolsey sighed. “Good, non-man-eating help is so hard to find.”

Jack nodded knowingly. When everyone stared at him, he shrugged. “The IOA and the NID are about as close to man-eating as I ever needed to see. Your little guys have got nothing on them.”

Caldwell seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Too true, General O’Neill.”

The Oompa Loompa Wraith scurried up to the HDTV, apparently willing to sacrifice himself to whatever Woolsey had in mind rather than listen to Jack and Caldwell reminisce and complain about their days at the CGC (Chocolategate Commmand).

“What’s it do?” Ronon asked, checking it out. “Looks cool,” he said, wondering if it would blow up if he shot it. That would be pretty cool.

“This, my friends, is a device designed to send chocolate to every home in the galaxy,” Woolsey proclaimed. He paused a moment, his brow furrowing in thought, then said, “Well, every home with a television, which is about four, all of which belong to me, but still...” He cleared his throat. “Steve,” he said to the Oompa Loompa Wraith, “show them.”

The Oompa Loompa Wraith named Steve pulled a giant chocolate bar from thin air and put it on what looked like a Star Trek transport pad. Woolsey pushed a button.

The chocolate disappeared before their eyes. John blinked, then blinked again, confused about where the chocolate had gone.

“If I could direct your attention to the television screen,” Woolsey said, making them all jump since they’d been mesmerized by the empty platform.

John turned his head and there, in the television screen, was a miniature chocolate bar. “How did it do that?”

Woolsey smirked. “This is what we like to call the Asgard Platform and Chocolate Beaming Device--or APCGD (pronounced “ap-cuh-gud”) for short. It takes the chocolate bar, dematerializes it, and re-forms it into the television for all to share. Would you like to try?” he asked John, pulling the bar out of the screen.

John was a little tired of chocolate by that point, but as he ran a hand over his head, he could tell his hair was getting flatter and really needed a pick-me-up, so he nodded. “Sure.”

But before he could accept it, Ronon reached over and snatched it out of Woolsey’s hand with a Satedan battle cry. “Mine!”

John scowled, tired of constantly being pushed over by the other ‘kids”. “He offered it to me,” he said, reaching forward and yanking the bar of chocolate out of Ronon’s hand and tearing into it without waiting for a response.

It was only due to John’s reflexes, finely honed from months of dodging aggressive penguins during mating season in Antarctica, that he was able to dodge the blast from Ronon’s gun. Instead of just dissipating in a burst of energy, the blast bounced off of the machine that Woolsey had used to shrink and transmit the bar of chocolate and rebounded onto Ronon.

Ronon let out a mighty roar as he was surrounded by a cloud of chocolatey smoke.

“Ronon!” Caldwell shouted in horror.

When the smoke cleared, they could all see that Ronon was now about the same size as the chocolate bar that John was munching on.

“Cool,” John said, taking another bite.

Mini!Ronon let out a high pitch roar from the very low ground. He was only about seven inches tall. He rushed towards John’s leg, planning to bite him, wjen Woolsey reached down and snatched him up.

“Not so fast there,” Woolsey said. “Dr. Parrish? Do you think you could put down your joint and please take him to be corrected?”

Parrish took a last drag from his joint and then put it out on the shoulder of an Oompa Loompa Wraith’s trench coat. “Correct him how?”

Woolsey waved a hand. “How should I know?”

“You mean you’ve never done this before?” Caldwell screamed, grabbing Ronon’s action figure-sized body from Woolsey’s hand and clutching him close.

“Of course not,” Woolsey said. “No one’s ever been stupid enough to shoot the Shrink Machine before.”

“Did you just call my boy ‘stupid’?” Caldwell glared.

“If the chocolate wrapper fits,” Woolsey said with a shrug. “Dr. Parrish and his love slave will take your son down to the Gum Stretcher and try stretching him out.”

“You’re going to stretch him out?” Caldwell asked, aghast.

“Either that or your son stays a miniature trigger-happy man. It’s up to you.”

Caldwell glared. “You’ll be hearing from my mother, Laura Cadman.”

“I have no doubt that I will, Mrs. Caldwell.” Woolsey smiled pleasantly. “In the meantime, I think some nice Tuttle Root soup will also help Ronon to grow nice and strong--it’s full of vitamins and the like.”

“If you think for one second--” She was interrupted as Parrish and Lorne began to drag her from the scene.

John and Jack stared at each other for a brief moment, wondering what ill fate was going to befall them as the rest of the Oompa Loompa Wraith assembled under the watchful eye of Radek Zelenka. Once they were in position, they all paused and looked at John.

“If you’re going to do it, just get it over with already,” John said.

The Oompa Loompa Wraith seemed to take this as permission and obligingly burst into song.

“Oompa Loompa doompadee doo
I've got another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa doompa dah dee
If you are wise you'll listen to me
What do you get when you play with your gun?
We're trying really hard to not make a pun.
A gun is a toy that kills people too.
If your aim is accurate and true.
You'll get no
You'll get no
You'll get no
You'll get no
You'll get no prison sentence
Oompa Loompa Doompadee Dah
If you're not barbaric you will go far
You will live in insanity too
Like the Oompa
Oompa Loompa doompadee do.”

John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We get it.”

Woolsey looked at them. “So. It’s just you two.”

“Yup, just us. So, we win, right?” Jack asked, acting innocent and failing.

John smiled, hoping maybe they were done.

“I don’t know...you both did what I asked you not to,” Woolsey said, looking at them thoughtfully.

“What, exactly, are we trying to win?” John said. The question had been bugging him throughout the long, painful, and alarming day.

“The winner gets full access to Chocolate Atlantis, plus control of the city,” Jack said, stroking his sidearm as he eyed Woolsey. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Woolsey?”

Woolsey paled and backed away a few steps. “That’s--that’s right. But you broke the rules!” he whined.

“But nobody controls Chocolate Atlantis,” John protested. “She decides whether she wants to obey someone’s orders.”

Jack and Woolsey both turned to stare at him. “Say that again, Sheppard,” Jack said slowly. “What do you mean, ‘she decides’?”

John smiled weakly. “You mean you can’t hear her?”

“The chocolate is talking to you?” Jack asked, as though John had lost his mind. (He was probably right.)

“Um, when you put it that way it sounds bad,” John said sheepishly.

“That’s because it is bad, Sheppard!” Jack smacked the back of John’s head. “How many times have I told you not to listen to your dessert?”

“I thought you said don’t listen to my desert.”

Jack smacked his head again. “Don’t listen to that either!”

“I can’t help it if things just start talking to me!”

“I think it’s the hair,” Woolsey cut in. “Acts like antennae, picks up extra waves.”

John glared at him. “It is not my hair. Why does everyone always think that?”

“Because you’re hearing things that other people aren’t?” Jack snarked.

Woolsey coughed discretely. “Getting back to the matter at hand--you can hear Chocolate Atlantis talking to you? What is she saying?”

John turned beet red. “She wants to know how I get my hair to stand up like that.”

“And that’s why it’s always about the hair,” Jack said.

“And,” John added, “she’d like the Oompa Loompa Wraith to be more prompt about cleaning up the chocolate unicorn poop. It makes her kind of high when it touches her sensors for too long.”

Jack and Woolsey exchanged glances, more than a little concerned about the city getting high.

“Well, I think-” Woolsey began.

“She’s not finished yet,” John said, frowning at Woolsey before refocusing his attention on the city. “Yes, go ahead.” John bobbed his head and motioned his hand for the city to continue. “And she wants you to take down the snozberry wallpaper in section three, and adds that snozberry totally isn’t a real flavor.”

“Anything else?” Jack asked, trying to decide whether to be concerned that John was relaying the chocolate city’s wishes or just plain old disturbed.

“Um... She’s really happy that someone’s finally here who can hear her rant. It’s a little awkward. Now she’s going on a tear about the giant chocolate bunny and it having sex,” John told him helplessly.

Woolsey looked nauseated. “You win.”

John blinked. “Win what?”

“The city! Enough! You win! I never wanted to come here in the first place, you know. I hate chocolate. I hate children. I hate that my only solace is singing songs that sound like they were written by someone who’d eaten too many poop pot brownies. I hate the Oompa Loompa Wraith. But most of all, I hate living on a floating, sentient city that hates me! She’s all yours, Sheppard. I hope you make each other perfectly miserable.”

And with that, he walked over to the wall and slammed his head against it until he fell unconscious.

John and Jack looked at each other.

“This is all your fault, you know,” John said, cringing as Chocolate Atlantis began to sing a nonsensical song in his head:

“I never thought my life could be
Anything but catastrophe
But suddenly I begin to see
A bit of good luck for me

'Cause I've got my own pet flyboy
I've got a golden twinkle in my eye...”

“What’re you yapping about?” Jack said, beaming as he backhanded a passing Oompa Loompa Wraith. “This is the best possible outcome. It’s what the CGC’s been working for all this time! Maybe now they’ll finally let me retire!”

“I’m going to be stuck here, aren’t I,” John moaned. “Forced to stay on Chocolate Atlantis and eat chocolate all day and try to pretend that this isn’t all absolutely crazy.” He took a breath and was about to continue his rant when the floor lurched beneath him. “What’s happening!” he cried, wide-eyed.

Chocolate Atlantis answered: She was rising to the surface of the chocolate sea. It was time for her to shine in all her chocolatey glory, now that she had found John and roped him into lifelong indentured chocolate servitude. Together, they would protect the Pegasus Galaxy from the Genii, the Oompa Loompa Wraith, and vegetables. Together, they would create chocolate the likes of which had never been seen before, on this or any other planet. Together, they would be glorious. And also very, very tasty.

THE END

To be continued in John and the Flying Chocolate City: When Kolyas Attack. Coming soon to a crack house near you.