I trust that you will pardon me for being here. I do not wish to force my thoughts upon you, but I feel forced myself. Ampa Wampa was one of my best friends. We worked the milk line together for the last ten years. This past Wompday, he was banished from the factory by The Large Man and left as food for the Vermicious Knids.
I am here to ask for one thing: change. Oompa Loompas have worked in this factory for thirty years without an increase in pay or any sort of promotion and the time has come for us to rise up against Him.
I want you to think back to those days in Loompaland, the ones that were filled with fear of Whengdoodles, Hornswagglers and Snozzwangers. Were those days really worse than the way we live now? Working around the clock; getting paid in chocolate that has fallen on the floor; never seeing our little Loompas because we are constantly having to rehearse songs; living in fear of beatings if we don’t respond immediately to an unfairly faint call from a piccolo! Face the facts, my fellow Loompas—we are slaves!
Let me ask you a question. How many of you have at least one family member that suffers from diabetes? Even one hand would be too many, but the whole room? How can we be expected to survive when all we are given is sugar? What I wouldn’t give for some hummus! When we left Loompaland I was a vibrant yellow. Now, I am orange. If this is not a sign of a terrible dietary affliction, then I don’t know what is. Our plight only aids His inexplicable glee.
But here is the thing: we’ve got His oompas in a vice.
Who makes the snozzberries taste like snozzberries? We do. Who runs the factory while He is playing with children in that elevator? We do. Who keeps quiet about the unbelievable amount of aspartame and low-grade narcotics used in all of the products? The Oompa Loompas doopity do.
He has not invented a single candy or treat since our arrival and yet he gets credit for them all. We all know that the Everlasting Oompstopper was Toomba’s idea, he has not seen a single cacao seed for the invention. The entire Golden Ticket marketing strategy was Joompa’s brainchild and yet her name was nowhere on it. He is stealing our oomptellectual property and we cannot stand for it anymore!
He cannot survive without us. We must rise up and take control of this factory. We no longer have to be slaves to the piccolo. We are on the verge of a true Loomparchy and we have nothing to lose but our shackles.
I foresee the time when children, artists and politicians will speak of the mighty Oompa Loompas not only as the best candy makers, but also as a group of individuals that had the courage to stand up to a vicious dictator. We shall then be at liberty to weep for Ampa Wampa and all of the other proud Loompas nations that gave their last oompa to set us free.