[the guy who be short]

Flein wandered the streets, a little confused. Where would he find a celebrity? What exactly was the point of this? What celebrities did he even know?

He sighed. Society was not his strong point, and idiotic social idols even less so. He looked around miserably.

Why hadn't he just told her?

Look on the bright side, he thought to himself. Conjunctivitis, gone. Anakron, gone. Cat-vomit, gone.

Wilhelmina... gone.

It had been his idea to split up, after all. It would just be too difficult with her. And there were always the moral objections his mind kept throwing up in lieu of those cats. In love with a Woman? How soon would she die? She was too young and frail...

He looked up again. It was no good moaning, no good at all. Be a real Dwarf. That was what he had to do, be a Dwarf. Face the task. Find a celebrity. Bash it over the head a few times. Take whatever it valued most. Easy.

Just as he had resolved to hunt down one of these celebrity things, he looked up and noticed that odd little man who had tried to sell him chocolate in Lûndûn. How on Arda had he got to Lost Angles in a day with no visible means of transport?

The man, arms still full of chocolate, sighted Fléin and approached him with an air of vague recognition. "Hello there! My! I thought you were an Oompa Loompa, don't you know? Well! Still, I'm sure I recognise you..."

Fléin considered for a moment. He didn't much fancy talking to this oddball again, but then again, he had nothing better to do at the moment. "Yes, we met in Lûndûn actually." He hoped the man - what was his name? - wouldn't remember the manner of their parting, and he was lucky.

"Ah, yes... would you like to buy some chocolate, incidentally?"

Fléin decided to ignore this and instead posed his own question. "How did you come to Lost Angles so quickly?"

"Simple, I took the elevator, my dear Dwarf!"

"Elevator?"

"Yes, of course. Anyway, would you buy something? I must be going soon, you know."

"I'm afraid not. Well, it has been pleasant meeting you again," and it will be even more pleasant parting again, he thought, "but I must go and find a celebrity now."

"A celebrity? Why, I am a celebrity! Don't you know?" the man chuckled.

"You're a celebrity?" the Dwarf exclaimed. He surveyed the man. Small, odd top hat, vacant seeming smile. He didn't seem much like celebrity material. Why would anybody idolise him?

"Have you not heard of Johnny Depp?" the chocolatier replied, equally incredulous. "Surely you must know..."

"The name strikes a bell," the Dwarf replied. Where had he heard it before?
Though he was, quite obviously, a rather secluded person, and knowledge of any celebrity was something rather alien to his nature, he knew that name.

"Why, Johnny Depp is the greatest actor that ever lived! He has scores of fangirls!" the man squealed.

Fléin simply looked on, even more incredulous than before. "You... you are the most famous actor of all time?" he asked, surpressing the urge to laugh in the man's pale face. He was obviously delusional. "You?"

"No, of course not! Ha! That would be silly!" The man, evidently not Johnny Depp, stopped there, but then continued after seeing the look on Fléin's face. "I am an incarnation of that great man. You see, when he was sent to Mordor, something odd happened. Mr Depp ceased to be. Instead, all the many forms he had assumed over his life - including that of myself, Willy Wonka - all these, I say, materialised in Mordor." He paused, then went on in a darker voice, "That is, in fact, why I have come to Lost Angles. We're having a convention of sorts."

"Really?" the Dwarf asked, intrigued. "That sounds like immense fun! Why do you look so glum about it?"

The man peered at him a little, then turned around, made a sign indicating his wish that Fléin followed, and led him to a nearby Ma Cuddonelds to sit down.

Once they were both uncomfortably seated, he resumed. "It is less a convention and more of a war plan meeting."

"War?"

"Indeed. You see, Mr Depp, before his assignment, played many varied characters. Some were good. Some were evil. And so, there must be war."

"That sounds perfectly logical," the Dwarf fibbed. "So... then, winning this war is the most important thing in the world to you?"

"No, not quite. Well, I suppose so, but there is a technicality. You see, we, the good incarnations, or G.I.s, are poised to win. But there is one who has not yet chosen a side, and he is the greatest of us all. Whichever side he chooses, victory for them is almost certain. It is imperative that he joins us, or we will lose. That is the reason we have gathered here."

"So he is the most important thing in the world to you?"

"Without a doubt."

"I shall speak freely with you," the Dwarf lowered his voice. "I am a member of the Offending Party. And it my duty to... aid a celebrity. I will find this man for you."

The man looked up, delighted. "Why, that would be wonderful! In fact, we have reason to believe he is in this city at the moment. It would be wonderful if you would help. You could come to the meeting, nobody would mind much-"

"No thank you, I shall start at once. Tell me what the man looks like."

Willy giggled. "He is not a man! He is a sparrow. Cap-tin Jack Sparrow"

"A sparrow? A bird, with wings and such?"

"Of course. It's all this homophone business. He is not allowed to be called Sparrow unless he is a sparrow. You will recognise him by his cap of tin. He is also quite large, for a sparrow. And I really must be going now! Thank you for the help, I shall let the others know. If you find him, we'll be in that large tower to the West"

With that, Willy Wonka left the building, leaving Fléin pondering how he could find this sparrow, and thanking Deus Ex Machina for the unlikely meeting.