Story Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Flies Again

Love their determination and the song but ... Commander Lemmon is a jerkface!

 

Good action writing and I'm looking forward to seeing how they survive and even thrive because Caractacus leads them.

 

Ngl, I kinda want to fight Lemmon

 

but yess, it is very good so far

 

Most of the schoolchildren travelled by foot, but a minority were dropped off from horse carriages. These were the children scorned for being sissies by the foot children. It was true that not many of their families could afford a horse carriage or a motorcar, but they still prided themselves on traveling to and from the schoolhouse without their mothers and fathers.

“Truly, we can walk to school perfectly well,” Jeremy protested as he and Jemima sat in the backseat of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Truly drove the car down the countryside hill towards the fenced schoolhouse.

“I don’t like the two of you walking to school with those bullies lurking about,” Truly replied, “and besides, there’s no shame in riding.”


“But the other children tease us for it,” Jemima said, “They call us babies for being dropped off.”


“If the other children have a problem, then that is not your responsibility,” Truly replied, “That’s their own fault. And besides, I could use your company at times like this.”


The car pulled up to the fenced area in the green field where the schoolhouse was built. Children carrying their knapsacks turned around to gape at the shiny motorcar as it came to a halt on the road.


“Now remember, keep your chins up and your eyes on target,” Truly reminded them.

“Yes, Truly,” Jeremy and Jemima chorused as they climbed out of the car.


“Good,” Truly replied, “Now, have a good day at school.”

As she drove off in Chitty, the crowd of schoolchildren swarmed around Jeremy and Jemima.

“Did your mummy forget to kiss the two of you?” one girl asked.

“Shut up!” Jeremy snapped, “She’s not our mother.”

A boy chimed in. “That’s right. Your daddy married her to get a share of her fortune.”

Jeremy took a step forward, but Jemima stopped him and said, “Remember what Truly told us. Keep your chin up.”


Jeremy complied, stepping away from the bullies and following his sister towards the schoolhouse.



After the battle, the surviving naval ships sailed along the Atlantic Ocean back towards the River Thames.

Admiral Fleming reviewed the men stationed on the deck of the HMS Golden Eye and said, “Our fleet was taken by surprise, but we succeeded in sinking the German submarines. They were lying in wait for us, but I declare this battle a victory. And now, let us mourn the loss of the good ship Confection.

“Commander Lemmon!” barked the Admiral.

Commander Lemmon stepped forward unassumingly from the ranks.

“Yes, Admiral?” he asked innocently.

“The casualty report for the men under your command.”


Commander Lemmon assumed a sad, mournful expression.

“I’m afraid my unit has suffered a few tragic losses,” Lemmon said, “Four of the crewmen of the Confection are presumed dead with the wreckage. Let us all mourn for the valiant Goldsmith, Cole, Robinson and Potts.”


“Alas,” Admiral Fleming said with a grimace, “Great men. Caractacus Potts gave us considerable firepower with the brilliant weapons of his design. And now, a moment of silence for the fallen.”


Lemmon appeared as sad as the rest of the men as they stood quietly in tribute to the seamen missing in action. Surely they had drowned under the waves, lost along with the battleship they had helped operate and that Caractacus had supplied with advanced artillery power.

“Let us sail home to our glorious mother England, and plan to avenge our losses,” Fleming said, “As you were, gentlemen.”

As the men disassembled and returned to their positions, Commander Lemmon followed the fleeing Admiral.

“Excuse me, Admiral Fleming, a moment of your time?”

“What is it, Commander?” Fleming asked.

“You must know how terribly I grieve for dear Caractacus Potts,” Lemmon said. “He contributed more than perhaps any other to the strength of our fleet. However, dare I say it, I believe there may be a silver lining to this tremendous loss.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lemmon?” Admiral Fleming asked sharply.

“Before he died, Potts told me of a fantastic motorcar crafted by his own hand,” Lemmon told his commanding officer, “He said that the car can even fly.”

“A flying motorcar?” Fleming asked, “I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life.”

“With permission to speak freely, sir, this is Caractacus Potts we are talking about,” Lemmon argued. “If he can make man fly, who is to say he cannot make machine fly also?”

Fleming considered this. “Even so, it would be immoral for the military to seize his private property.”

“With respect, Admiral, I believe a flying machine such as this could be molded into a valuable war asset,” Lemmon added, “Think of the glory bestowed upon us by the crown if we could use this car to win the war.”

“I think not!” Fleming snapped, “The estate of Mister Potts deserves more respect. Lord Scrumptious always spoke highly of him, and he does not deserve to have his assets stolen without proper authorization. I want to hear nothing more of this flying car, do you understand, Commander?”

Lemmon flinched at the harsh rebuke, concealing a scowl. “I understand, Admiral.”

“Good.”

Once Fleming was out of earshot, Lemmon grumbled, “I will get my hands on that car, and I will do whatever it takes!”


On the deserted island, the men walked along the trails, collecting fruit from the trees.

“I don’t see how we can possible escape this island,” Cole complained, “We have no means of communication.”

Goldsmith chimed in. “This is hopeless. We’re going to die here and never see our families again.”

“My wife is going to think I’m dead,” Robinson added.

“The poor children,” Cole said glumly.

“Potts, can you think of a way out of this one?” asked Robinson.

Caractacus looked around.
“Now men, the solution may not be immediately upon us, but we can’t stop looking.”

“We’re completely in the wild!” Goldsmith exclaimed, “We’re lucky we haven’t come across an animal that wants us for his dinner!”

“We won’t be here that late,” Caractacus said, “I promise you.”

“What makes you so certain?”

Caractacus pushed past a cluster of fern leaves to reveal a clearing full of bamboo sticks.

“There’s no need to worry, there’s no need to fear,” he said. “For everything we need, we can find right here.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Cole asked.

Caractacus raced towards the grove of bamboo sticks and grabbed onto a sturdy one, swinging around it in a circle like a young boy.

“He’s going mad,” Goldsmith whispered.

Everything you need is right ashore, your stick, your boat, your oar,
You can discover endless possibilities like you never knew before,
Just follow me, and I’ll show you, what you can do with a stick of bamboo.

The men gaped in confusion as Caractacus plucked the bamboo from the sand and grabbed a second stick. He carried the bamboo back into the jungle and gestured for the men to follow.

All I need is some old bamboo to do the job with ease
Yes all I need is a stick of bamboo, and some good old bamboo leaves
Some good bamboo, fresh from the land, will really do the trick,
All I need is some old bamboo to get just the right kick

Setting the bamboo on the sand, Caractacus marched back into the jungle for some more bamboo. Grabbing two more sticks, he said to the three bewildered seamen, “Come on, give me a hand.”

Beginning to see where Caractacus was going with this, the men picked up some bamboo and followed him back to the beach, dropping the apples and peaches they had collected.

Leading the men, Caractacus hopped over a log and clicked his feet together as he danced with the bamboo sticks.

Yes sir, some good and strong bamboo will take me over the water,
To launch and set sail,
Under sunshine and hail,
Back to my son and daughter,
Trust me and with a stick of bamboo,
You can do whatever you put your mind to.
Eagerly, all the men joined Caractacus in song as they raced back and forth to collect as much bamboo as they could carry.

All I need is some old bamboo to do the job with ease
Yes all I need is a stick of bamboo, and some good old bamboo leaves
Some good bamboo, fresh from the land, will really do the trick,
All I need is some old bamboo to get just the right kick.

Goldsmith: We could build a grand boat, and set it afloat

Cole: Let our minds and the earth be the tools


Robinson: Yes this bundle of bamboo has my vote,

Caractacus: And the vote of a wise man and fool.


All the men sang together as they constructed their boat, complete with a mast, a large leafy sail , bamboo oars, and vines wrapped around to secure the bamboo in place.

All I need is some old bamboo to do the job with ease
Yes all I need is a stick of bamboo, and some good old bamboo leaves
Some good bamboo, fresh from the land, will really do the trick,
All I need is some old bamboo to get just the right kick.

Twirling on spare pieces of bamboo, the men danced triumphantly around their grand creation, excited to set sail and return home.



Some good bamboo, fresh from the land, will really do the trick,
All I need is some old bamboo to get just the right kick.


All I need is some old bamboo to do the job with ease
Yes all I need is a stick of bamboo, and some good old bamboo leaves
Some good bamboo, fresh from the land, will really do the trick,
All I need is some old bamboo to get just the right kick.

 

Caracticus always has a plan and so does Lemmon but I'm glad he was told off about the flying car

 

I liked how Truly encouraged the children to be strong.

 

Thanks.

I honestly feel like I've made her the main character just as much as Caractacus if not more.

 

The sign in front of the Scrumptious candy factory reading "Scrumptious Sweet Co." now also had the words "Original Home of Toot Sweets" written on it.

Inside her office, Lady Truly Potts tried her best to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her while Edison rested at the foot of her desk.

"Tasting time, my lady," the mustachioed chef said as he stuck his head through the door.

Truly solemnly rose from her seat and stepped through the long, barren, rectangular office room into the work floor.

A factory worker stood in front of each metal cauldron that contained a liquid of a different color.

Truly started with a cauldron containing a mix the color of the white and yellow tablecloth Caractacus had back home. "This could use a bit more honey," she said after placing the ladle to her mouth and sipping the liquid mixture.

"My lady," the bespectacled secretary Philip said as he entered, "A visitor has arrived."

"Who is it?" Truly asked, hoping it wasn't any of her old friends from the social circles she'd grown up in.

"A Captain Rogers from the navy," Philip replied, "He says that Commander Lemmon sent him to give you some news."

Truly's heart went tight in her stomach and her face turned the color of her white dress.

"Br-bring him in," she stammered. The workers were glancing curiously at her. A few appeared sympathetic as Truly began to breathe heavily with terror. There ould only be one reason why Caractacus's commanding officer would send someone to see her with news...

The young captain entered, dressed in full uniform and wearing a sorrowful expression on his face. With a respectful bow, Captain Rogers said with a hesitant pause, "Lady Potts, I have news from Commander Lemmon about your husband."

"Yes?" Truly asked, her eyes watering with tears.

Captain Rogers looked into the eyes of the terrified woman and decided that he couldn't bear to crush her hopes, even if he had to lie to her.

"Your husband...he got separated from the others during the battle," Rogers said nervously, coming up with the lie on the spot. "The commander has sent a search party to retrieve him. He's probably on his way back by now."


Truly took several deep breaths, regaining her composure. She felt embarrassed at her emotional reaction, but also scared. The young captain had a guilty look in his eye, as if he wasn't telling the full story.

"Is... is that all?" Truly asked.

The captain hesitated and fumbled nervously, looking down at his boots.

"Y-yes, my lady."

"Very well then," Truly replied. She turned away from the visitor and took the ladle from the next candy mixture, preparing to taste the concoction. The silent tears from her eyes landed in the green liquid as she put it to her lips.




A large manor rested on top of a hill. Unlike the countryside where the Scrumptious mansion was built, this fancy home was constructed within a field of dead brown weeds and hollow trees with no vegetation on them. Dark, stormy clouds hovered over the mansion, which had a large, gated area in the back with a fence built so high that nobody could see what was enclosed within it.

Lady Ginger Baker's colorful dress was sharply contrasted with the drab colors of the decaying garden plants and grass as she exited the home she shared with her husband.

Ginger watched as a sleek, silver motorcar came driving through the gate that stood between her mansion and the dirt road leading up the hill slope. The car's headlights flashed through the ominous fog. A military chauffeur drove the motorcar while the uniformed Commander Lemmon sat in the passenger seat, recognizable from a distance by his tall blue cap.

Ginger approached the car as it came to a halt. Commander Lemmon climbed out and bowed. "Lady Baker, I trust you are well."


"I am, thank you, Commander," Ginger said with a smile, "I take it you are here to see my husband?"

"That is correct," replied Lemmon with a sinister grin, "I have a business deal with him of sorts. I believe you are acquainted with your husband's greatest business rival, inventor Caractacus Potts?"

"I would hardly call Potts a rival to my husband," Ginger scoffed, "My husband is a titan in the steel industry while Potts is just a crazy old fool who got lucky with a bit of dog candy."

"Nevertheless, I'm sure you know of his Lordship's unofficial profession outside the steel industry? Selling weapons to our armed forces?"

"Why yes," Ginger replied.

"Then he'll be pleased to know that the only man who has given more to the military than himself, Caractacus Potts, has been eliminated."

Ginger gaped at him in shock. "You mean Caractacus Potts is dead? Truly must be devastated." Ginger's voice of sympathy turned into a matter-of-fact tone in an instant. "Still, perhaps now she will come to her senses and find a husband more suitable to a woman of her class. Old Potts never understood her and the life she was raised to live. That we were all raised to live."

"And he has left a flying motorcar," Lemmon added, not having heard anything Ginger had said, "This car will make the three of us very rich."

"Ah, here comes his Lordship," Ginger said as a shadow was cast upon the dead, decaying lawn.

The handsomely dressed Lord Cruncher suddenly drove his black motorcar onto the grass, coming to a violent stop with a loud screech.

Lemmon and Ginger coughed on the smoke emitted from the car's engine as Lord Cruncher emerged. He was a young man, but very experienced in the business world. He glared at his guest with a sinister look in his eye.

"Commander Lemmon, what brings you to my home?" Lord Cruncher asked.

"It's about our deal, Lord Cruncher," Lemmon replied, "You see, my Lordship, Potts has been killed in battle. The flying motorcar in his possession will bring us a great deal of wealth and glory."

"Tell me more," Cruncher said, intrigued. He turned to his wife Ginger. "Fetch us some tea, will you, my little coochi face?" he asked in a cold, dismissive tone.

"Of course, pumpkin," Ginger replied sweetly, disappearing through the porch that led into their home, where two armed private security guards stood.

"So tell me about this car," Cruncher said, draping an arm around Commander Lemmon's shoulders in a conspiratory manner.

"The military has nothing like it," Lemmon replied, "Admiral Fleming will have nothing to do with the idea, so if my men and I get our hands on his car for you, imagine what we could do with it, given the weapons already at your disposal."

"How will you obtain the car?" Cruncher asked skeptically.

"With seamen under my command, in the name of the Royal Navy and His Majesty," Lemmon said, "I should have no problem seizing old Chitty." Lemmon began to march along the field in the style of a military drill as he beckoned for Lord Cruncher to follow.

Imagine a hundred motorcars like the one before your eyes,
armed with guns and cannons and ready to take the skies,

With the invention of Potts in your hands,
the a fleet of flying cars under your command,

The sheer might and power, and respect they will demand.


The men above who once looked the other way,
will finally give the respect that we deserve,

and our unmatched power will come and save the day,
and our glorious country we will serve!

"I like where your head is at, Commander," Cruncher said. He joined in the song, parading behind Lemmon through the field.

With an unprecedented stock in my possession,
then everyone in charge will be forced to make the confession

That they could not have won without the help of me,
and I will be supreme, undefeated, seizng every monopoly

No weak weasel could ever bring me down,
with all my armed power I may as well just take the crown!

The two men began to dance with devious glee in the lawn, singing together now.

With all the might and power resting in our hands,
We'll have the whole army under our command,

Everyone else will be forced to change their attitude,
and the entire nation will owe us their gratitude,

Lemmon sang the next verse alone.

Great war heroes like nobody knew before,
anyone who dares oppose will be crushed into the floor,

Then Cruncher:

All the companies in the land will be forced to sell their lot,
and at last we will achieve domination, over the entire nation
whether they like it or not!

At that moment, Lady Ginger Baker came back down the porch step with a tray in her hands containing two cups of hot tea.

"The tea you requested, my dear."

"Thank you, thank you," Cruncher said indifferently, taking the tea cups and handing one to Lemmon.

The two men quickly inhaled the hot tea before resuming their song. Ginger looked on in confusion as Cruncher and Lemmon continued dancing and singing.

The sheer might and power,
the motorcar will supply,
one we seize the great invention,
and let it multiply,
one the machines of war can fly,
with the armed weapons of the war...
then we will achieve a glory like no man has before!

,
The two men set their tea cups back on the tray in Ginger's hands.

"Now why don't you come in for some lunch?" Lord Cruncher asked in a very polite and casual voice.

 

Sad for Truly getting the news as Lemmon's plans seem to progress.

 

Ginger seems not to have much, er, ginger to stand up to her husband. Truly is certainly made of strong stuff to withstand news like that!

 

Intermission

 

Thanks for the feedback here and elsewhere since I started with fanfic.

You seemed like a valuable member of the fanfiction community.


When you had criticisms for my writing, I always enjoyed the humorous ways you expressed them.


The Force will be with you, always.

 

About this story, I will resume it once I finish Episode VII: The Bloodline Heir (working on it now).


I have this story planned out to the end. I may later write a Chitty Citty Bang Bang 3.
I’m not done with that old motorcar just yet. Neither is Commander Lemmon or the Potts family.

 

As the other children began the trudge home through the mud or climbed into the few horse carriages and motorcars in front of the fenced schoolhouse, Jeremy and Jemima waited as Truly's shiny vehicle made its way through the dirt road.

Immediately, Jemima could tell something wasn't quite right.

"What's the matter, Truly?" she asked as Truly pulled the car to a stop.

Truly hesitated. What was she going to tell the children?

"Get in," she replied in as normal of a voice as she could manage. Jeremy and Jemima could nonetheless detect something deeper within Truly.

She drove along, barely able to look at the lush green of the vegetation around the road or the colorful flowers that bloomed within the grass.

"Truly?" Jeremy asked, "Are you all right?"

"Never mind that now," Truly replied, not taking her eyes off the road in front of her.

The two siblings looked at one another in awe, surprised at the way Truly had spoken. She had never taken such a tone with them, no matter what the circumstances were. Something was very wrong indeed.

The children remained quiet as Truly's car reached the gate that led into their property. Edison the dog was waiting with excitement on the large field of grass surrounding the house, but he quickly fell subdued upon seeing Truly's heartbroken face and the children's somber expressions.

The territory around the Potts manor seemed less lively than normal. The fountain was running no water. and there was not a butterfly, insect or bird in sight. The trees were casting long shadows as Truly brought the car to a halt inside the garage.

She looked around sadly at all of Caractacus's inventions left on the shelves. His machine built for serving breakfast, lunch and dinner, his motion picture player, all of them sitting abandoned and forgotten.

"Go inside the house," Truly commanded.

"Yes, Truly," the children said before obeying. They hurried away as Truly took a long minute to compose herself. If Caractacus had indeed died in the war, she had no idea what she would do. She wouldn't hesitate to continue raising the two children that had become her own, but the idea of remarriage was impossible. She had loved nobody like Caractacus, even after the various suitors over the years with far greater wealth.

Finally, Truly made her way towards the front door, where Grandpa Potts was returning from his daily travels.

"I'm back from the Belgian trenches," he announced cheerily, before seeing Truly's crushed expression. "Say, Truly," he asked in an unusually soft tone, "What seems to be the matter?"

"Come inside," Truly said gently to her father-in-law. Edison hurried after them and slipped inside before Truly shut the red coated double doors.

Once the two of them were in the parlor, Truly gulped before speaking. "I've received terrible news from the navy. They say Caractacus is missing and I believe he has been killed."

Grandpa Potts widened his eyes and stared hard at Truly. Truly's lip quivered as she waited for his reaction. But the older man waved his hand dismissively and said, "Nonsense. I don't believe it."

"He's on a boat in the sea," Truly reasoned, "If they cannot find him, I don't see what else could have happened."

"My boy is not dead," Grandpa replied stubbornly, "He's alive and well. I just know it."

Truly realized that it would be impossible to get her father-in-law to accept the death of his son. Quietly, she said, "I must tell the children."

Making her way to the winding staircase, Truly called, "Jeremy! Jemima! Get down quickly. There is something I must tell you."

The two children hurried downstairs, anxious to know what was bothering Truly.

"What is it?" asked Jeremy.

"There's something you must know. It's about your father."

Both children gasped loudly, not daring to imagine what Truly could be thinking. "What?"


"He's gone missing in battle," Truly told them, instinctively drawing them to her with an arm around each of them.

"Missing?" asked Jemima, "Is he still..." she paused, unable to finish the sentence. Both children looked at each other with great fear and alarm.


"I promise you both that your daddy is alive and on his way home," Grandpa said, "I know my Caractacus better than anyone, and I can assure you he is not dead."

Truly closed her eyes, trying to retain her patience. She didn't want any false hope for herself or her children, but she also knew that assuming the worst would be just as bad.

"We don't know anything yet," she said, "I will keep an eye open for any news."

Jemima spoke up, her voice wavering. "I don't want Daddy to die," she said, sounding very much younger than her age.

"How awful," Jeremy added, with none of the bravado he had had at school

Truly wrapped them both tightly in her arms, leading them upstairs as Grandpa followed.

She began to sing in a slow, soft voice.

Don't cry, my little darlings, don't let your sorrows keep you down,
For with every trouble, there is a bubble,
to lift you out of the water, and you will never drown,
I will be here to protect you, and keep you safe from harm,
Don't cry, my dear children, rest under my arm.

She guided them both into the bedroom she shared with Caractacus and laid them both on the white sheets of their canopy bed.

Their black-and-white wedding portrait was posted next to their bed, as well as one of the whole family, dressed up and smiling.

Truly continued to sing as she sat between the two children, caressing their hair with love.

Whatever lies ahead, whatever the world will bring,
Just lie in the nice, warm bed, and listen to me sing,
Don't cry, my dears, just stay close to me,
and embrace the comfort of family.


Grandpa Potts now sat on the bed beside Truly and joined her with a verse of his own

Tomorrow will be another day, and there is always hope,
I will always be here, and you can have my rope
To hold onto to keep you from sinking,
Protect you from the troubles you are thinking.


As Jeremy and Jemima rested their heads against Truly, she and Grandpa sang together now,

Don't cry, my darlings, just rest your heads,
Take comfort in your loving bed,
We will be here to comfort you always,
And we promise there will be better days.

The two children were now asleep.

Truly moved them so that their heads rested on the soft, giant pillows.





The bamboo raft drifted along the North Sea.

"I say, we should be past the halfway point to the Thames by now," Robinson remarked, gazing at his compass.

"We'll be back on dry land in no time," Caractacus promised.

"We cannot deny, Potts, your spirits are responsible for getting us this far," Cole said, "You're one of the good ones."

"I'll put in a good word for you all with the Admiral," Potts replied, "You three gentlemen have been just as much help to me, if not more." He could envision his wife Truly and the children, waiting for him at home. How he couldn't wait to be back to them, watching them run to him with joy.

"Hold on a second," Goldsmith said, pointing up at the sky. The men looked up to find the white clouds quickly expanding as they turned dark grey. The wind began to pick up speed as well as the tidal waves guiding the raft along.

"Looks like trouble!" Caractacus said, swinging his bamboo oars through the water as he struggled to keep them from floating out of his hands.

Lightning flashed in the sky as the sky turned dark. Rain began pouring as a large wave nearly knocked the raft onto its side.

"Now we're done for!" Cole exclaimed as he was knocked against the bamboo of their boat, grabbing onto it to keep himself from being pulled by the tide.

Wave after wave attacked the boat as the rain poured and the thunder clapped.

Caractacus grew worried once again as he reached for the oar that was being pulled away from him.
"I'm sorry, men," he said as the rain filled his hair, "This is all my fault, I'm afraid. I led us into this mess."

"I never got to tell my wife I loved her," Goldsmith lamented. He grabbed onto the fragile mast as the rapid waves began to pour into the raft along with the rain. The sticks of bamboo were beginning to break below the four men.

"You still can!" Caractacus said.

"It's over now!" Cole shouted, "Instead of the Germans, we're being destroyed by Mother Nature herself!" A large hole tore in the floor below them as a large wave struck the raft, breaking the relatively fragile structure.

All four men were knocked over as the raft was caught in a stormy wave, two men grabbing onto each side of the raft to keep it level as they kicked their legs in the water.

"We're sinking!" Robinson cried as his neck went below water, the weight of the men dragging the boat down with them.

"Let go!" Caractacus yelled, bobbing below water before pulling his head up.

"He's gone mad!" Cole exclaimed as he tried to climb back into the leaking boat.

"Look!" Goldsmith shouted, "We're saved."

Caractacus managed to swim back up as a wave pushed him sideways.

A large ship was sailing through the storm towards the four struggling men. The black and golden pirate ship shined through the darkness of the storm as it made its way towards them.

"I know that boat," Caractacus managed to say as he grabbed a cluster of floating bamboo sticks, "It belongs to Baron Bomburst and his pirates."


But there was no Baron or pirate crew aboard.

Instead, dozens of male and female children worked below deck, rowing as fast as they could towards the British naval sailors.

Above them, the boy captain shouted, "Hurry!"

Caractacus looked up at the approaching ship, recognizing the Vulgarian flag.

"I can't believe it," he said to the other men, "The Vulgarians have found us."

"Get the rope ready!" one of the children.

"Are those children in that boat?" asked Cole in disbelief, treading water with all his might despite the strength of the waves.

"They're here to rescue us," Caractacus replied as the children extended a strong rope down into the water.

"Pull anchor!" a girl above shouted.


The anchor came down as Caractacus reached with all of his might for the rope.

"Come on, men," he said as he grabbed hold.

The three other navy men managed to grip the rope as well, which was being controlled by the strength of ten Bulgarian children. As they held on for dear life, the men began to climb onto the ship's hull, making their way to safety out of the stormy water.

 

Appropriate lyrics, here, and oh gosh, they're out of the one situation and into another ... I'm sure they're going to be okay, though.

 

It was a dark night after the Potts children had gone to sleep. The road was even quieter than it was during the day, save for the sound of hooves rhythmically stomping on the cement towards the gate.

Two horses were strung to a carriage- there were a total of four carriages with two British soldiers in each.

The lead carriage came to a halt upon the snap of a whip once it reached the gate leading into the Potts property, and the others quickly followed suit.

“All right, men, remember our plan,” said Commander Lemmon, “We go in, we take the motorcar out, and we drag it away on horseback.”


“But sir,” the short, muscular soldier next to him asked, “What if we are spotted?”

Lemmon flashed a toothy grin under his curly mustache. He pulled a piece of parchment with writing from his coat.
“That’s where this comes in. We have the right to seize private property in the case of extreme national emergency. Who would want to speak against the word of the Prime Minister himself? Then, we take the car to Lord Cruncher’s factory and we will be very rich.”

Lemmon climbed out of the door of his carriage and gestured for the rest of the men to do the same.


As the men began to sneak through the gate, Lemmon pointed to the smallest, most wiry of the men.
“You, stay behind and watch the horses.”

The horses were already getting restless, shifting their legs and slowly dragging the carriages around the street.


“But sir, how am I supposed to keep eight horses in line?”

“Does that sound like my problem?” Lemmon hissed, “now come on, men.”

The men snuck past the shrubbery along the path leading towards the big white manor. The water flowing down the fountain spout and into the marble basin was much more audible with no other sound.


The thin, wiry solider left behind was having a difficult time accounting for the horses.

“No, stay boy!” he whispered desperately as a pair of horses began to stray. By the time he herded the horses into place, another carriage had begun to drift.


“Come back here!” the man said as he got in front of the horses, who began to neigh, “And be quiet!”

Meanwhile, the men reached the Potts mansion, which was completely dark inside.

“Over there,” Lemmon hissed pointing towards the shed with both Truly’s motorcar and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

“There’s two of them,” Lemmon’s second in command whispered, “Which one is it?”

“Hmm,” Lemmon pondered, stroking his chin, “A bit of a puzzle we have here. Inspect the cars for any sort of flying devices.”


The men rushed to put their hands on the two shiny vehicles, scanning the engines below, the controls inside, and everywhere in between.

Lemmon looked anxiously at the house, peering at the dimly lit window panes. It seemed everyone was asleep inside.


“Anything?” Lemmon asked his men.


“This one is in far better condition,” a gruff militia man said, patting Truly’s vehicle, “Not to mention shinier.”

“Shinier,” Lemmon repeated skeptically, looking between the two motorcars, “You’re right. This car is far more advanced and in better condition. That is why the other car is our prize.”


“Are you sure?”

“Think about it? Do you think even Caractacus Potts could build THIS? I think not!” Lemmon climbed inside the slightly less polished, much mode crudely designed Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and sat behind the wheel.
“This is the car that Potts built. I know it in my very soul. If you will, men.”


Two men grabbed the back of Chitty on either side and hoisted it up with a grunt of brute strength. Two more men lifted up the front end of Chitty so that it dangled in the air.

As they carried the cart outside with Lemmon sitting in it, the Commander cracked his whip in signature fashion

He pulled out the parchment document once again and retrieved a nail from his pocket. Then, he stuck the parchment against the doorway of the garage and stuck the nail into it.

“Perfectly legal,” Lemmon said, “Onward!”

Their knees and arms buckling with the weight of the motorcar, the men hurried back towards the gate where their comrade was still trying to rein in the horses.

“We have our prize, gentlemen,” Lemmon crowed, laughing evilly, “now away we go! Set me down, men.”


The men set the motorcar with Lemmon inside down on the pavement and climbed back into their carriages.

Lemmon pulled the throttle, smiling as the engine hummed to live.


“Follow me!” he ordered, speeding down the road in the stolen motorcar.

The men in the carriages cracked their whips, following Chitty as Lemmon steered it out of sight.


Jeremy was in a restless sleep when his sister Jemima shook him.
“Jeremy, wake up!”

He snapped awake and looked up at his sister, sitting up in bed.

“What is it?”


“I heard the sound of a motorcar! Just now, coming from the road!”

Jeremy rubbed his eyes sleepily in the dark. “So?”


“I know that sound anywhere!” Jemima said, “That was Chitty!”


“A car can’t come to life by itself,” Jeremy replied, “Not even Chitty.”

“I know what I heard,” Jemima protested, taking her brother by the wrist, “Come with me.”

Jeremy followed her out of their room down the hallway towards the long, twisted staircase.

Taking care not to make a sound, the siblings crept past Edison, who was asleep at the foot of the stairs.


Edison let out a grunt as Jemima cracked open the front door across the lobby.

“Hurry up,” she whispered, putting on her shoes.

Jeremy did the same and followed her outside towards the garage.


Upon the sight of the open shed door, both siblings halted in their tracks.

“It’s gone!” Jemima exclaimed, putting her hand to her mouth in disbelief, “Chitty’s gone! It’s only Truly’s car there!”

“Look!” Jeremy said, seeing the parchment pinned to the garage.
He ran to it and pulled it off the wall, his young eyes scanning the strange letters.

“What’s it say?” Jemima asked.

“They stole Chitty,” Jeremy said, filling with anger, “The army stole Chitty to fight in the war.”


“But Chitty doesn’t fight,” Jemima replied, equally angry, “We can’t let them do that, we have to stop them!”


“We can’t follow them,” Jeremy said, “We can hardly even drive.”


“We’d better tell Truly right away!” Jemima declared, starting back towards the house.

“No,” Jeremy hissed, holding her back, “Truly’s very upset already. We’re only going to make her feel worse. We have to get the car back ourselves.”


“But we don’t know where they took it,” Jemima said.


“We’ll have to hurry,” Jeremy replied. He started to run down the field towards the cement road, beckoning for Jemima to follow, “They’ve got to be much faster than us.”


Jemima hesitated before following her brother.

“But don’t you think we should say something to Truly, and let her know we’re going.”


“We can’t do that, it’ll worry her,” Jeremy replied as they drew closer to the gate through which their father’s proud possession had disappeared. “We’ll just go and find the car and she won’t worry about us at all.”


The two siblings hurried down the road, taking their best guess the direction that the car had gone. They ran through the dark night until they could not any more.


Jemima looked back the way they had come.

“I can’t see the house any more,” she said, fear beginning to creep in.

“We can’t be too far away,” Jeremy replied, but he too was beginning to tremble, “We’ll be back to Truly with the car soon.”

“Oh, Jeremy!” Jemima shuddered as an owl hooted in a tree above them.

“There’s nothing to be afraid...aaaah!” Jeremy screamed as something rustled in the bushes on the side of the road.

The two siblings grabbed on to each other as a growl came from the nearby forest and something sharp and long poked between the leaves.

A tall, thin figure emerged, carrying a walking stick and wearing a cap and a sack.


“Ahoy there, travelers,” the man said from the shadows, his voice very familiar.
The children could see his face more clearly from under the moonlight.

“Grandpa!” they exclaimed.

 

Side note- I personally picture Christopher Lee as Commander Lemmon in the early 70s.

 

What a relief; the kids used kids logic "don't worry the adults!!" without, of course, knowing that Truly would be frantic. That's a fun visual with Lemmon cracking the whip and being carted without lending a hand moving Chitty ...

 

“Why hello, children,” Grandpa Potts said casually, surveying the two young runaways before him.



“What are you doing out so late?” Jemima questioned.



“I’m home from a day in the trenches,” Grandpa said, “The Germans are determiner, but I will not let them stomp onto our homeland.”



“Grandpa, Chitty’s gone!” Jeremy said, “It’s been stolen?”



“Chitty?” Grandpa asked frowning in confusion, “Whatever are you referring to?”


“The motorcar that Dad made for us. We used to pretend it could fly?”



“A flying motorcar?” Grandpa laughed, “What nonsense!”



“We need to get it back,” Jemima said, “For Daddy.”



Grandpa looked at the sad young faces gazing up at him under the moonlight.


“Well, all right,” he agreed, “In the name of our glorious Empire, we will take back what was stolen from us.”


Grandpa turned heel like a soldier so that he was facing the road’s pathway.


“Come on, forward march!” he declared. Waving his walking stick, Grandpa Potts marched forward, and the two children trailed behind him.


“Come on, march with me, children,” Grandpa urged, “Why the long faces?”



“We don’t know if Daddy’s still missing,” Jemima said, “He was out in sea.”



“Your old dad’s just fine, I’m sure of it.”



“Really?” asked Jeremy uncertainly.



“No tides or submarines are going to stop him from getting home to you,” Grandpa replied, “He’s doing his part for our country, and it’s time to do ours. Now, how about a marching song?”



“A marching song?” Jemima asked.



Grandpa picked up pace as he began to sing.



When you’re facing down a beast in the trenches of war,

A beast that no man has encountered before,

Just tap your feet and stomp your knees and try to sing along,

Sing along to the marching song!


Grandpa jerked his legs sideways in a dancing motion, twiddling his stick between his fingers.


Now cheer up, chin up, keep your eyes on the prize,

For we have a battle to win at sunrise,

We will seize the day by the horn and the prong!

Come on and sing along to the marching song!

Jeremy and Jemima began to feel reassured as they danced in rhythm behind their grandfather, following him along the gravel road in the dark.

“Quite an adventure we’re on!” Grandpa exclaimed, “Don’t you agree, children?”


“This IS like an adventure,” Jeremy replied, as he danced next to Jemima, skipping after Grandpa.

“Quite exciting,” Jemima added.

“Yes, yes,” said Grandpa. “Let’s keep some optimism here. We are going into the belly of the beast!”

Yes we travel to the east,
Awaiting us is the feast
Of heroic deeds and adventure beyond compare!

Yes we’ll go anywhere! The path is over there!

Just stand by me and come along...

And now the two Potts children joined in with the next line-

and sing the Marching Song!

Yes we march along the trail,
In search of our holy grail,
We’ll venture near and far,
For our father’s motorcar,

I’m a-ready! Jeremy sang.


It’s time to go! Jemima added.


Grandpa sang the following line- Marching here to there, front to back, to to fro,

All three of them joined in harmony now as they pranced along the nighttime countryside.


When you’re facing down a beast in the trenches of war,

A beast that no man has encountered before,

Just tap your feet and stomp your knees and try to sing along,

Sing along to the marching song!



Time passed as the trio traveled along the empty, gloomy countryside that seemed so different from the way it had in different times, when the Potts family would take trips through the lush scenery, into the town and towards the shimmering beach that was now dim.


“We don’t know where we’re going,” Jemima said, “Chitty could be anywhere by now.”


“She’s right,” Jeremy said, “Grandpa, I think we’re lost.”

“Lost?” questioned Grandpa, “We couldn’t possibly be lost, not when we have the stars to guide us.”


“But whoever took the car is so much faster than us,” Jemima pointed out, the spirited burst into song already a distant memory as reality sunk in, “We can’t possibly catch up to them.”

Suddenly, the sound of a motorcar roared behind them as a tall, rectangular vehicle slowly approached from behind.

“Out of the way!” Jeremy shouted, grabbing his sister as they leapt to avoid the car.

“I see the light!” Grandpa exclaimed, pointing at the headlights that shone through the darkness.


The car slowed down as it approached. Vaguely, the word TAXI could be read across the door.

The driver leaned out the front window as he pulled over alongside Grandpa, Jeremy and Jemima.

“I understand the three of you need to get somewhere,” he said.


“Jeremy!” Jemima exclaimed, “I’ve seen that man before. We both have.”


The man had a blonde-grey streak in his bowl-cut, and had a small mustache. He wasn’t someone the children recognized by name, but looked familiar enough so that the children could recall his face. His accent sounded German, but somehow the children knew he wasn’t from there.

“He does look familiar,” Jeremy replied, “But he isn’t anyone we know.”


“We’re on a glorious mission for the honor of the crown,” Grandpa said, “We’re after a prized possession.”


“Yes, that’ll be the motorcar,” the taxi driver replied. “Why don’t I give the three of you a ride?”


“But we haven’t any money,” Jemima said.


“Free of charge,” the driver said, “I couldn’t possibly ask for money. The Vulgarian people owe you all a great debt.”


“What did he say?” Jeremy asked, but Grandpa bowed to the man and said, “We proudly accept your services.”


“Hop in then,” the driver said, nodding towards the passenger doors.


Grandpa popped the door open and gestured for the children to climb in. “Come on then. We can’t afford to lose any time.”


Jeremy and Jemima obediently climbed in, followed by Grandpa.


As the man resumed driving the taxi, Jeremy asked, “Sir, have we met you before?”


“Why yes, my young friend,” the driver replied, “Many years ago now, before the war.”


“Are you one of the merchants in town?” Jemima asked.

“A merchant?” the man laughed, “Heavens no. After the children of Vulgaria have been denied fun for so long, I could never charge them to enjoy the toys I make for them.”


“You’re a toymaker?” Jeremy asked, “And where’s Vulgaria?”


“I’m THE Toymaker, young Master Potts,” the man replied, “and you may address me as such. I make toys for the children of Vulgaria, whom the Potts family rescued from the evil Baron and Baroness.”


“But we don’t know of any place called Vulgaria,” Jeremy said, “Or of any Baron and Baronness.”


“Jeremy, this sounds very familiar,” Jemima said to her brother, “Remember when we first met Truly and took her to the beach?”


Jeremy nodded.

“Daddy told us all a story of Vulgaria. Remember? Chitty flew and we met the Child Catcher?”


“But that was just a story,” Jeremy replied, “Chitty doesn’t really fly, and there’s no Baron or Child Catcher.”

“Not anymore, thanks to the heroic Caractacus and Truly,” the Toymaker chimed in, “And so all of Vulgaria is perfectly happy to assist the Potts family when they are in trouble.”


“Trouble?” asked Jeremy, “Are we in danger?”


“Not if I have anything to say about it,” the Toymaker replied.


“You seem like a good man to fight in battle with,” Grandpa said, “In another life, we could have been comrades in arms.”


“We were, my good man, and we will be again.”


“If you don’t mind, Mister Toymaker,” Jemima asked, “Do you know where to take us?”

“Of course I do,” the Toymaker said, “We’re going to rescue your motorcar. And I know just where it is.”

The crack of dawn was beginning to form behind the mountains in the distance.


The Baron’s former yacht sailed along the North Sea through the storm as the rescued navy men recovered from their plight.


“So, we are rescued by a bunch of children who know how to sail?” Robinson asked, “I don’t believe it for a moment.”


“These are not just any children,” Caractacus said, “These brave young lads and lasses helped free Vulgaria from the Baron.”


“Are you talking about the Vulgaria you told us about in your story of the flying car?” Cole asked.

“The very place, over on the other side of the north. These children are very brave and very capable.”


An older boy approached the four shivering men, who were wrapped in warm towels underneath a protective sail.

“Are you all right, Mister Potts?” the boy asked.

Caractacus recognized him at once, he was the boy whom he and Truly had sung to under the Baron’s castle, to tell him that Hushabye Mountain was not far away and that there was light ahead.

“Never better, Peter,” Caractacus said, “I can’t possibly thank you children enough. Without you, we’d be dead in the water.”

“Without you, we’d be locked in the Baroness’s cages,” Peter replied sincerely. “And now, the children of Vulgaria will return their debt to you, Mister Potts.”


“So Vulgaria is real!” exclaimed Goldsmith.


“And you do know these children!” added Robinson


“Amazing,” mumbled Cole.


“We have to help Jeremy and Jemima,” Peter explained, “They’re trying to rescue the motorcar from Commander Lemmon.”


“Commander Lemmon?” Caractacus asked, “He took Chitty?” He remembered the naval officer being so curious about the car he had built. “He wants it for himself. That’s why he nearly killed me, so that he could take it.”


“Yes, and now your children are putting themselves in danger,” Peter explained, “We have to help them.”


“Maybe we can give you a hand in navigating this thing,” Caractacus said. He climbed to his feet and said, “Come on men. We’ve got to make this boat go fast.”

Not wanting to say no to Potts, Robinson, Cole and Goldsmith followed him below deck to help the children steer the yacht.

A dozen children were manning each oar, hauling them as they steered the ship towards the Thames.


Each of the four men grabbed hold of an oar, aiding the young children who rowed the large, majestic yacht through the storm as fast as they could.

 

The Cruncher Machines Inc factory was most distinct because of the clouds of smoke that continuously flowed from the chimneys on top. A sign reading Cruncher Machines Inc stood on the road that lead from the main avenue to where the factory stood on the outskirts of town. Horse-drawn carriages and a few motorcars passed the road leading to the Cruncher factory, but all of them cleared for the approaching cavalry.

Commander Lemmon led the group of military horse carriages in the driver's seat of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, which shined even more below the rising sun.
His gun and whip in the seat next to him, Lemmon turned left onto the small road leading to Cruncher Machines factory. He was followed by the soldiers in their horse-drawn carriages as they approached the factory.

Lemmon stopped the car as he noticed a small group of workers in front. They were carrying signs and shouting at the closed doors of Lord Cruncher's business. As the military carriages came to a halt and the neighing horses bucked, the metal doors to Cruncher's factory finally opened.

The workers mostly in their twenties and thirties, gathered around their ruthless boss and his wife as they pushed their way through the crowd, yelling after them.
"We want change!" "We need better pay!" "We demand safety!" The majority of Cruncher’s employees were women, as the men were off at sea or in the trenches of war.

Lord Cruncher waved a dismissive hand as he walked arm-in-arm with Ginger Baker towards the motorcar. He beamed as his eyes scanned the shining vehicle.

"Commander Lemmon," he said, "I'm glad you've arrived. I have a problem that needs to be dealt with."

Lemmon squinted through the glaring sunlight at the workers, who were continuing to follow Cruncher and shout at him.

"Unfair! Unsafe! Inhospitable!"

"Of course, my good lordship," Lemmon replied. He grabbed his whip with one hand and his gun with the other.

He cracked the whip and shouted, "Come on!"

The soldiers under his command emerged from their carriages, bearing rifles as they hurried after Lemmon, Cruncher, and Ginger.


"Back to work, you lousy lot!" Lemmon shouted as he pointed his pistol at the striking workers, forcing the angry crowd to back away in fear.

The other men stood beside their commander and raised their rifles in a threatening way.

"Right, now you understand," Cruncher said to the men and women who had accosted him, "The terms set are mine alone, and so are the wages you receive. Without me and my generosity, you would be left to ravage on the streets and your families would starve to death. Show a bit more gratitude."

"Back to work!" Lemmon repeated, cracking his whip.

The disheartened employees dispersed, returning to their jobs in the factory.

"When will they ever learn?" Lord Cruncher asked, "Now, about the motorcar, we've got to get it flying."

"If Potts could do it, you certainly could, my darling," Lady Baker said.

"Right, right," Cruncher said dismissively, leaning away as Ginger reached to touch him, "Now, Commander, we'd best take this thing apart to find whatever it is Potts did to it to make it go up." He started to approach the car, eyeing it with fascination.

"Are we sure that the car was ever able to fly?" Ginger asked, "The only evidence we have is the words of Caracatus Potts."

"Don't be silly, coochi face," Lord Cruncher replied, "Now, Commander, let's get to work."

Lemmon climbed back into the driver's seat as Cruncher sat next to him. Lemmon pulled the throttle to activate the car.
Ginger began to climb into the backseat, but Cruncher said, "Out of the way, Ginger. We're about to make history."

Ginger was left to wallow in disappointment outside the car as Cruncher shouted, "Let's take her on the open road! Full speed ahead!"

Lemmon sped across the lot towards the factory , where the employees screamed and scattered in fear as Chitty thundered towards it.
Lemmon then turned the wheel all the way around so that the car twisted to face the small road.

"Do be careful, darling!" Ginger shouted to her husband as Lemmon picked up speed, heading for the main avenue.

"Faster, faster!" shouted Lord Cruncher.

A large wagon on the main avenue was delivering hay, pulled by a man on a horse.
The horse and his owner turned to see the shiny motorcar speeding towards it from the side-street.

The man screamed and the horse lifted his front legs in fear, causing the entire wagon to tip over and the bundles of straw to fall onto the pavement.

Lemmon and Cruncher paid no attention as they forced cars and horses to move to the side, caring nothing for the pedestrians they passed by and forced to scatter.

"What is the meaning of this?" called a passerby in the street.

Lemmon drove Chitty past farms, houses, and businesses as he tried to lift the vehicle into the air.


"It is still not flying!" Cruncher exclaimed in frustration.

"Potts made it happen, so can I," Commander Lemmon yelled back, nearly crashing into the supermarket. Chitty took the door off of another passing car as it sped over sidewalks and into posts, wrecking everything in its path.

"We've got to find a way to get it in the air!" shouted Lord Cruncher as Lemmon continued to turn from street onto street, fallen lampposts, smashed walls, and fleeing citizens in his wake.

"I have an idea," Lemmon said, "The propulsion units that Potts designed. They work when you run up a a ramp and light the match on the pack. We need inclination to lift up like the propulsion units."

"And those work?" Cruncher asked.

"Of course they do," Lemmon replied, "My men in the navy use them. Brilliant, Potts was to invent them."

"What did you just say?" Cruncher demanded.

"Nothing," Lemmon replied, realizing his mistake of calling Caractacus Potts brilliant to Lord Cruncher, "That hill up ahead, we can use it to lift off."

"Go!" Cruncher shouted.

Lemmon bared his teeth as he drove the car at a hundred kilometers per hour down the busy avenue towards the hill.


“Up, up, and away!” he yelled as he pressed as hard as possible on the gas pedal while speeding up the hill.

As Lemmon jerked the wheel upwards, he leaned sideways by accident in front of Lord Cruncher’s view, causing the industrial leader to scream and swat at Lemmon.

Lemmon swerved the steering wheel in all directions amid the confusion, forcing Chitty to slide down the hill straight backwards. The two men hollered as the car rolled off the street and into the grass, finally screeching to a stop amid the field that had been lit on fire.


Lemmon and Cruncher sat trapped in the vehicle as the grass burned around them, humiliated by their failure.



Truly anxiously raced down the spiral staircase of the manor, having already searched the children’s bedrooms.


“Jeremy!” she called, growing more frightened by the second, “Jemima!”
She ran through the sitting room, the kitchen and the dining hall in her desperate search. “Jeremy! Jemima!”


No answer from the children, but Edison came faithfully wagging his tail and began to pace around Truly’s feet.

“They’re nowhere to be found,” Truly said in alarm. She raced out the back door into the vastness of the yard, filled with flowers and fountains and sculptures.

“Children? Where are you?” she cried out.
“I don’t know where they could be,” she said to Edison, “They must have run away.”


Truly hurried around the large house to the shed, where her motorcar awaited.
Truly didn’t even notice that the garage’s second car, Chitty, was nowhere to been. Her only concern was the children.

Edison quickly climbed into the seat next to Truly’s as she drove out of the garage down the road leading to the gate. There was no time to waste.

Truly sped past the trees and shrubbery of the road, past the schoolhouse where Jeremy and Jemima attended. She drove past the lake, past the shops here and there along the roadside.

She didn’t look back as she entered the city limits, or as she passed her own candy factory on the way to the police station.

“Constable!” Truly called as she raced into the station.

The old, mustached man behind the small, wooden desk looked up as Truly raced in, Edison at her heels.
Most unusually, Truly was not dressed in her usual gowns for business or formal events, but rather in her nightclothes that were reserved for the privacy of her home.


“Lady Scrumptious,” the Constable said, standing up to bow to the aristocratic woman, “To what do I owe this visit.”


Also out of character, Truly didn’t bother to correct the man who had called her Lady Scrumptious instead of Potts. “It’s Jeremy and Jemima. They’re gone. I’ve no idea where they might have run off to.”


The constable frowned. “The Potts children are missing, you say?”

“Yes, and they’ve been so worried about their father at war, and I’m afraid they’re putting themselves in danger!”


The Constable considered the situation. Truly was flushed with emotion as she waited for a response.

“Why don’t we make sure they aren’t anywhere in town before I file a report?” the Constable suggested.


Mr. Coggins angrily walked the lot of his junk shop, surveying the damage that had been done by the passing motorcar.

Most of the machines had been destroyed, and the front of his store had been wrecked by the shiny car that had driven by.


He turned at the sound of another car as Truly, the Constable, and Edison drove up.

“Mister Coggins!” Truly cried as she climbed out of the car, “Oh, Mister Coggins!”


“Why, Lady Potts, whatever is the trouble?” Mr. Coggins asked.


“It’s the children, they’ve disappeared and I’m worried sick! They couldn’t have possibly come by your shop this morning?”

“Jeremy and Jemima in my shop? They haven’t come by in two years,” Mr. Coggins replied, “But the most peculiar thing happened early this morning. Two men drove by at a ridiculous speed and demolished my entire supply. They were in the shiniest car I ever saw. I swear it was the car that dear Caractacus drove before going off to war. There’s no other like it.”


After listening to Coggins’s story, a realization hit Truly.
“The children must have gone after the car! It was stolen and they went after it! But who could have stolen the car?”


“I only saw the men for a split second,” Mr. Coggins informed her, “But I thought one of them looked rather like Lord Cruncher.”


And now Truly knew who had taken the motorcar her husband had built, why the children had gone after it, and where they must have been headed.

 

Truly must be part Vulcan to follow the leads so logically! I like how the early 20th century ambiance comes through so well with the strikers, mostly women who try to change their lives for the better.

 

@pronker Truly is on familiar terms with Lord Cruncher and she knows Ginger well too. She knows that he’s jealous of Caractacus.


And I tried to implement some elements of contemporary sociopolitical struggle.


Much appreciated

 

Enjoyed reading about Grandpa and the Toymaker helping the kids get their car back

 

The interior of the Cruncher mansion appeared far more luxurious and extravagant than the fortress of an exterior. Since the wedding of the Lord to Lady Ginger Baker, the place had been decorated with fancy artifacts, artwork and colorful furniture.
The library was located near the back gate of the property, where a secret door was located behind one of the bookshelves.
The telephone rang on top of the kitchen table. Ginger quickly hopped from the armchair she had been reading on and hurried to pick up the phone.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Ginger, is that you?" Truly asked, sounding inexplicably frantic.

"Oh, Truly, it's been too long since I last saw you."

Ginger waited as Truly asked her a question. "Ginger, the children ran away from home."

"The children?" Ginger asked, frowning in confusion. What would she know about them?

"Yes, and I think that they are going to your husband's factory. Oh, Ginger, I must know if you've seen them anywhere."


No, and I don't know what they would be doing at the factory anyway. Listen, Truly, why don't we..."

The frantic Truly cut her off with an urgent reply that Ginger couldn't entirely understand.

"All right, I'll call you if ever I see them about. Truly, I know things have been difficult for you. Why don't you come over for tea, and I'll invite the others as well. His Lordship will hopefully join us as well. Please take care of yourself."

Ginger then hung up the phone and hurried back to the library, pulling a small lever that opened the secret door. Ginger slipped through it into the large, fenced infrastructure behind the mansion, where her husband was talking to a man with a thick German accent.



"German money will be just as good anywhere," the German man was saying to Lord Cruncher, "Your banks will make it useful to you."

"Have you no sense, you foolish man?" Cruncher spat, "I cannot go to a British bank with German money! They'll know I'm selling arms to the likes of you! This is no good, I tell you."

"My superior orders five standard unit tanks," the German said, gesturing around the lot filled with various war vehicles, weapons, and supplies, "I come with money, your men prepare shipment."

"This money is nothing to me," Cruncher growled, "I want fifty more."

"But if German money is no good, what will fifty more..."

"Fifty more or the sale is off," Cruncher said firmly.

The German man seemed to get the message and replied, "I will consult my superior officer."

"Off with him," Cruncher said to his nearby guard. The guard approached the German and took his arm, leading him away towards the vehicle that had brought him to the Cruncher mansion.

Lord Cruncher turned to find his wife approaching him.

"What is it, chu-chi face?" he said in a bored voice.

"Listen, Truly has just telephoned me. She's worried sick, asking if I've seen the Potts children around here."


"Those little brats?" Lord Cruncher snarled, "What the devil would they be doing near our property?"

"I believe I know why," a voice from behind the shiny motorcar named Chitty said.

Commander Lemmon had been in the middle of attaching a propulsion unit to Caractacus' car when he had interjected.
"The Potts children must have followed us when we took the car," Lemmon said. "I suppose Lady Scrumptious is now looking for them."

"Those grubby little peasants won't get their hands on my key to winning this war!" Cruncher said angrily, "If the Potts children are coming here, they'll have to face my deadliest wrath!"

"Now, now, dear," Ginger said, "Caractacus Potts may be a lowlife fool, but those two children are rather sweet, even I must admit." She began to change gears a bit as she added, "How much Truly loves them."


"Commander, I want all available militia men on duty," Cruncher said, "They'll be walking right into our trap."

"I'll be ready for them," Lemmon replied with a wicked grin.

Cracking his whip, he gestured for two guards to get to work on the propulsion unit and hurried to get together the rest of his army.

As Lord Cruncher strode into the house, Ginger followed him. "Listen, sweetheart, I was thinking about the Potts children, and how much Truly cares for them."

"What of it?"

"I know that Jeremy and Jemima are not of the right breed, but I must confess that hearing Truly talk about them makes me wonder when we can have some of our own. We are getting older, you know." Ginger and Lord Cruncher were in their mid-thirties, near the end of expected child-rearing age.

"I've talked to you about this before, Ginger," Lord Cruncher replied shortly, "I haven't got time for children. I have an empire to create and a war to win. It is the responsibility of us barons of industry to build Britain up from the ground."

"Yes, but dear..."

Lord Cruncher picked up a rifle from the desk between two bookshelves and said, "Come along, Ginger."

Our fortress rooted deeply on this earth,
Everything surrounding us is all that we are worth,
You and I, my pretty maiden, together we'll give birth,
To a new empire of prosper and might!

Yes our weapons and our army, we bring to this fight,
We, the wealthy, the elite, it is our duty, our right,
To lead the country and every drop of English blood,
to glorious victory and our enemies vanquished in the mud,

You see, my dear bride, because of us, England wins,
money and power make the world go round,
And we will make this empire great again!

As the wealthy couple exited through the barred gate leading into the front yard, Commander Lemmon was cracking his whip and ordering the men into shape. Several of the militia fighters were dragging large bulldogs and dobermans on leashes, while others were pushing motorcars into the cover of the vines draping low.

Ginger spoke up with a verse of her own, slower and softer than Cruncher's

His Lordship knows that he is my only love,
My devotion is so great nobody can understand,
I am yours, forever and always,
And I will stand with you, below and above,
Every machine, every sale, I know that my lord will never fail,

I want to be yours, forever and always,
Standing in the midst of our glorious land,
I love you like nobody will understand,
And I will rule with you, and in hand,"


"Very good, Ginger," Lord Cruncher said as he studied the militia.

Now as we stand through storm and fire,
We prepare to rule our new empire,
No little pest will pass the test,
Those tiny brats should have stayed in the nest!

Ginger chimed in once again, clutching her industry baron husband by the hand

But please just think how precious it will be,
if a little one was here with you and me,
We would be hearth and fire,
and the love of family for our new empire,

Lord Cruncher cut in again,

Don't you see, it begins and ends with you and me,
Our hands, man and woman, husband and wife,
This entire kingdom will be our child,
Once my plan is fully in motion,
Then you will see my true devotion,

The two of them sang the last verse together:

My devotion to you, and to this great empire,
together we stand true and strong,
At my side, in our new empire,
In our new empire, we belong!