I took my midget wife to the cinema, she had asked specifically and eventually And she doesn’t speak much on account of her terrible stutter and cleft palate So I knew that this was something she really wanted, and I teased not for once When she told me that she wanted to see Ch... Ch... Ch... Ch... Ch... Charlie and the Chocolate Factory It was a Saturday evening and the local picture house was showing a re- run of the classic starring Gene Wilder as the enigmatic Willy Wonka, And not the steaming great pictorial dog turd served up by Tim Burton, And I knew that town would be busy So as a treat I dressed her up She had stopped crying by the time the feature started I think the Ooompa Loompa costume grew on her But that maybe the orange paint was a bit of a bad idea, people had stared But I stand by my decision to dye her hair green, it had taken thought And planning, it was meant to add to her excitement of the day I sat her on my lap in the picture house but still paid for two seats I do get one ticket half price though because of her disabilities So it wasn’t all bad. Every cloud and all that, she tends to get a little down every now and then But £3 entry makes up for being born without legs and only one arm ( which is sadly stunted) I knew from past experience that the cinema staff prefer me to carry my legless wife, (The one time I gaffa taped her to her skateboard and took her did prove somewhat a disaster) But really, the usher had a torch and should have been looking in the aisle as she walked And it was a good decision to carry her this time The Ooompa Loompa costume afforded easy access to her anus (Naturally, as there were no leggings to the costume) So when I got aroused in the darkness of the cinema I slipped it in her arse And I shot my load just as the fat little bastard was being blown up On screen. She never even noticed I don’t think She just sat there rapt upon the movie, her orange face not leaving the screen, And dribbled spunk into my lap from her chocolate factory