Hey, for those of you who are my fans and wondering why I haven't updated in awhile, you can check my profile, cuz it's on there. Please.
Oh, right, need to say hi.
HIIIIII!!!!!!! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot. Based on the Johnny Depp version, so you know, though there might be a reference or two to the Wilder shop owner.
Man, when I reread this a few days after posting it I noticed macho spelling errors! I believe I've fixed them all, so here ya go!
The first thing the candy store owner did for his shop that day was grab two copies of the same newspaper and drive to his store. He cleared a little space in the hodgepodge of news, notices, and advertisements that lined the outside of his shop and posted one of the two pairs on the wall for the world to see. Smiling to himself at the news, he unlocked the front door, switched the "Closed" sign to "Open," turned on the lights, and sat himself down on a chair behind the counter. Then, not expecting any customers for at least an hour (as it was very early in the morning) he relaxed and began to read the headlines.
ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD BOY BECOMES APPRENTICE TO FAMED CHOCOLATIER
Charlie Bucket, local resident and winner of the last golden ticket, has accepted Willy Wonka's proposal to become his apprentice and to rightfully inherit ownership of the chocolate factory. Charlie, as everyone knows, was the last child to be seen exiting the factory (flying through the air in the great and mysterious glass elevator accompanied by his grandfather and none other than Willy Wonka himself). Upon questioning, Mr. Bucket (father of Charlie Bucket) informed us, if a little uncomfortable, that, "Mr. Wonka was looking for the least rotten child to take over for him, and that happened to be our little Charlie." When we asked him why Charlie refused to accept such an amazing position, he replied, "that is between our family and Mr. Willy Wonka. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for dinner, and if anyone bothers dear Charlie or Grandpa Joe on my property I will personally call the cops. Thank you." Mr. Bucket refused to answer any more questions, and after painstaking searches the only person related to the four other ticket holders to agree to talk to us was father of Mike Teavee, giving us only enough information to confirm what Mr. Bucket's first statement told us.
However, there seems to have been a change of heart for the now-apprenticed Charlie, but why we cannot say. Perhaps we can take joy reminiscing in the fact that our chocolates and sweets that we adore so much is in the capable hands of a moral child, though what the future will bring we cannot say. Why, I remember the time when the Scrumdidlyumptious first came out. I was five at the time, and...
The store owner smiled and tossed the paper to the side of his desk. He looked over at a spot right in front of the Willy Wonka Candy Bar display. Right there on that spot, right where a small stain that he could never quite get out (that was shaped suspiciously like Wonka's 'W' emblem) stood the small boy himself, Charlie Bucket. He was a kind, starved looking boy who the man hadn't recognized. The poor boy had looked as though he could never dream of affording candy, and was ever so delighted at the fact that he had somehow acquired ten pounds (though how the boy managed to get the ten dollar bill, the man will never know.) How amazed the owner had been when he looked over to see the boy holding up a golden ticket in disbelief, and in his shop too, his very own shop...
Ding ding!
The man jumped out of his stupor as the door opened and shut. He looked over, surprised that someone would be entering at this time of day, and he became baffled when no one was there. Instead floating gently to the floor was a little envelope coloured in a cheery plum flavor and written with long loopy cursive writing. Dumbfounded as to how the letter got there (or how it managed to float to the ground so peacefully, despite the laws of physics) he walked over and picked it up in his hands.
How strange this letter was! The ink was somehow striped in white and green horizontally, and if he wasn't mistaken it was peppermint-scented.
To Mr. Candy Shop Owner,
Store near my old house
The man chortled at the writing on top. Obviously a child had written this, most likely accompanied by an adult who wrote down the words for him/her (which would explain the loopy cursive.) Searching for a return address (but seeing none) the man spotted a glint of gold at the top corner. Despite the flaws in the letter address, it had at least been properly stamped, and, how appropriate, with a golden 'W' design. Mr. Candy Shop Owner didn't know that they made Willy Wonka stamps, so he became curious when he saw this one. Briefly, he wondered if it was edible.
He dug his fingernails under the groove of the ear flap, then tore the letter open (carefully though, this seemed like the type of letter he'd want to keep.) Surprise met his face as he pulled out not a letter, but a card. He realized the card, though somehow skillfully done, was handmade, owing to the printed "Dear Mr. Candy Shop Owner" on the front in the same loopy handwriting and funny ink. It too was a plain plum colour with no more design than the writing. Opening it, he gave a start when noise resounded.
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka
The amazing Chocolatier
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka
Everybody give a cheer
He's modest, clever, and so smart,
He really can't restrain it,
With so much generosity
There is no way to contain it, to contain it,
To contain to contain to contain!!!!!
Ha ha he he ho ho ho!
Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...
The disturbing ditty continued to play until it reached the end, strangely following the ending note with what sounded like fire, a small explosion, a second of silence, and then a lone man with a childish voice clapping and saying, "Heh heh he-he-heh, wasn't that just magnificent?" It ended ubruptly. Unsure of what to think about this... very VERY disturbing card, the shop owner stood completely still, not really seeing anything around him, too baffled by the letter so he was. The man was somehow given the impression that the... song... was recorded on the spot without any real planning. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to the present and began to read the card, trying to avoid staring at the flashing lights and seizure neon colours that surrounded the actual letter part of the card.
I am writing this letter to thank you for all of your help the day I found the golden ticket.
The golden ticket! Then this must be... no, it couldn't be...
My name, though you may have already figured it out, is Charlie Bucket.
"What!?" he exclaimed, then eagerly continued reading.
That day was one of the best days of my entire life. Until then, I could hardly afford a bar of chocolate, so it was my great pleasure to find the ten pound note lying on the street. As I clutched the golden ticket in my hand the world seemed to disappear, and many thoughts were whirling around in my brain.
That is, until the man standing next to me offered to buy it from me for fifty dollars and a new bicycle. Then, as you might remember, that woman told the man he was crazy and offered to buy it from me for five hundred dollars.
The shop owner thought back to those two beastly adults and how quickly their attitude changed from sweet to vulture. He huffed at the nerve of them.
I didn't know what to do. My family needed that money, you see. We needed it more than the chocolate. I was completely paralized until you interrupted, telling them to leave me alone and for me to run home and not let anyone have it.
How amazingly nice that was of you, to not try to steal it or resort to any nasty actions. Not to mention you were the one who picked out that bar in the first place. If it wasn't for you, I might not be here today, and Mr. Wonka might have a rotten child as an apprentice and be living in misery.
I feel oblidged to reward such a kind course of action. As my Grandpa George so wisely put it, "There's plenty of money in the world. They make more of it everyday." With something so common, I couldn't very well just reward you with that, could I?
Therefore, I've talked it over with Mr. Wonka, and here is what we've arranged:
#1. In a few days some workers will arrive at your shop. Do not be surprised at the height of them, for I can assure you that they are very kind, if not a little mischevious. They are to reconstruct your shop in any manner you wish. It can be as big or as small as you like, with whatever decorations in any order or proximity of your choosing.
#2. We are going to provide you with free Wonka candy from now on. Don't worry about us, we can certainly afford it.
And finally, #3. Upon inventing my first candy bar, I shall name it in your favor. Of course, in order to do this, I'll need to know your name, so don't be surprised if, sometime in the future, a great glass elevator comes smashing through your ceiling.
Until then I shake you warmly by the hand, and I wish you good luck.
Your Friend,
Charlie Bucket.
Then, below the departure note in scribbly and normal-looking, if not childish, handwriting (with a plain black ink, might he add) there was one more statement:
P.S. Sorry about all of the uh... strange designs; Mr. Wonka insisted on creating the card himself, as well as writing it out for me. He added a few big words to the note, so don't give me all the credit.
The shop owner wiped a tear from his eye as he read the letter, then reread it, then read it again. Such kindness had never been presented to him before. As the customers began to pile in the small confines of is shop, they noticed he was in an exceedingly happy mood that day.
And, as promised, a dozen small workers arrived at his shop early one morning. He smiled as he thought back to the day, leaning in his chair. In the end, only one change had been made, and he was staring at it.
Sitting there, right in front of the small Wonka Bar display stand, was a sign that read as follows:
At this very spot on January 31, 2005, Charlie Bucket discovered a golden ticket lying inside of an ordinary Wonka bar, and his life was forever altered.