“Screaming Morgan in a cop house is like yelling for an Oompa Loompa in a chocolate factory. You guys pop up like gophers.That's pretty much what dinner's like at our house, Kane acknowledged. Like a game of whack-a-mole.”

“Relationships are like Whack-a-Mole. You squash one annoying deformity and another one pops up in no time.”

“So?” I asked Vee. “What’s the verdict?”“The verdict? My doctor is a lard-arse. Closely resembles an Oompa-Loompa. Don’t give me your severe look. Last time he came in, he broke into the Funky Chicken. And he’s forever eating chocolate. Mostly chocolate animals. You know the solid chocolate bunnies they’re selling for Easter? That’s what the Oompa-Loompa ate for dinner. Had a chocolate duck at lunch with a side of yellow Peeps.”

“I want an Oompa-Loompa!' screamed Veruca.”

“What happened to your face?""What happened to yours?" I retorted. "You look like a damn Oompa Loompa. You should lay off the spray tanning, Lea.”

“Planetologist call it the conundrum of unforeseen ecological consequence. I call it the whack-a-mole rule of human meddling. She clasped both hands like a child hammering. WHACK! We change something here. Oops, that makes another problem pop up there where we didn't expect it. WHACK! So, we whack that mole. Oops! We're so smart that we're a menace.”