Snozzberry

Thank you, your honor.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the task before you is not a trivial one. Over the course of the coming weeks and months, you will learn how the defendant, William J. Wonka, used his business to enable, fund, and keep secret a series of crimes so heinous that they are difficult to repeat even now: Drug trafficking. Felony enslavement. Homicide.

For years, Wonka Corporation has been peddling narcotics to children under the guise of candy and sweets. The defendant knew that the only way to get around FDA clinical trials was to label and market his highly addictive drugs as confection.

Rainbow Drops. Snozzberry Poppers. Everlasting Gobstoppers. The names are as familiar on the playground as they are in the rave parties and all-night clubs. These are not mere candy treats; with a series of underground farms and snozzberry distillation labs, the defendant created an entirely new class of illicit hallucinogenic drugs. Mr. Wonka knew his products were dangerous and addictive, and he willfully marketed and sold them to primary school children.

If only that were the end of his crimes. Over the course of this trial, I will prove to you that Mr. Wonka also facilitated a network of slave labor the likes of which this country hasn’t seen since the nineteenth century. The Oompa Loompa are a proud, industrious people, taken from their homeland and forced to work in servitude in the candy factories, drug labs, and sugar mines that comprise the mighty Wonka empire.

The defendant will claim that he was saving the Oompas from Loompaland, rescuing them from the deadly Wangdoodles, Hornswogglers, Snozzwangers, and Vermicious Knids that populate their countryside.

Ladies and gentlemen, the only Snozzwanger here is the defendant, Mr. Wonka.

But even that is less shocking than what you are about to hear.

Augustus Gloop. Violet Beauregarde. Veruca Salt. Mike Teevee. All they wanted was to tour a candy factory. But what did these children get instead? Drowned. Poisoned. Incinerated. Vanished.

A series of accident after deadly accident? That’s what the defense would have you believe. Why did no one call the police until a full 48 hours after the deaths? Why was evidence rolled away to the juicing room, or burned in what the defendant dubs “The Eggdicator”?

And most importantly, who is to blame for all these deaths? Poor building codes? An enslaved, yet fearfully obedient workforce? The mysterious Mr. Slugworth? No. I will prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the only one at fault on that fateful October day was William J. Wonka.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’d just like to leave you with this:

Oompa loompa, doompadee doo. There is a criminal sitting before you.

Oompa loompa, doompadee dee. If you are wise, you’ll find him guilty.

Thank you.

ΒΆ Snozzberry at BustedTees