Disclaimer: all familiar material belongs to either Roald Dahl, author of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Warner Bros. for the film adaptations of the book, and Eoin Colfer, author of the Artemis Fowl series.
About this story: this takes place before Artemis' father goes missing, before the yong genius takes the responsibilities of the family business upon himself. The tour is a fusion between content from the book and the two movies.
Author's Note: please review or comment so that I'll know if anyone likes this idea!
The Hunt for Golden Tickets
It was no surprise that, when Mr. Willy Wonka sent out five marvelous Golden Tickets, they should all have been found by the greediest, wealthiest, or most ingenious children. Not even the luckiest poor boy in the world stood a chance of finding one; even most average children who could afford to buy a Wonka bar every day did not stand a chance of finding one of the elusive Tickets...especially when they were pitted against the most intelligent child in Western Europe.
His name was Artemis Fowl. And though he was exquisitely wealthy, and in some cases selfish, he was a generally decent for a ten year old boy, as well as cultured and abnormally intelligent. He only had to buy one candy bar to find his ticket, and though he had not yet torn open the wrapper, he knew the ticket was there in his hands. His family did not know he had even purchased a candy bar; or rather they were incapable of such knowledge. His father had gone on a business trip to Russia not more than two weeks ago, and his mother had busied herself with household affairs, leaving Artemis to his own schemes. Of course, Artemis was never alone; a manservant followed him wherever he went, keeping his eye on the mischievous boy. And though he never interfered in Artemis' affairs, he was always there to protect his Principal...in his case, Artemis Fowl.
Artemis' young age had not prevented him from committing nefarious acts of crime; in fact, his youthful appearance often furthered the productivity of his criminal affairs. People almost always underestimated the abilities of the young Fowl, and that misconception usually led to their downfall. In this particular case, however, Artemis was not thinking of committing illegal acts. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was thinking not of money, not of gold or a possible profit. From the first moment he had tasted Wonka chocolate, he had found something that appealed to his inner child, the real, innocent Artemis that he disguised behind a mask of grim intelligence. For once, he wanted to treat that part of him. For once, he wanted to act like the kid he was supposed to be. So he had bought a single Wonka bar, the one he now held in his hands. He knew there was a ticket inside; his genius mind had told him that. Rather than tear it open, however, he casually laid it on a table in his private chambers, calmly running his hand over the shiny wrapper. It read: Wonka Whipplescrumptious Fudgemallow Delight. His manservant and protector, Butler, stepped closer to the table, his huge form towering over Artemis while he read the candy wrapper.
"Are you certain this is the one, Master Fowl?"
Artemis smiled faintly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Of course, Butler. Finding the Ticket is a rather elementary process: check the manufacturing date, offset by weather, and the derivative of the Nikkei index. It would not take a genius to figure that out."
Butler did not doubt his young charge's intelligence; he had seen various manifestations of it in the past, but he did not look completely convinced. "If you are so certain, then why will you not open it?"
Artemis pulled a television remote from beneath the table, pointing it to the set on the opposite side of the room. "I wanted to see the other winners first. Though a tour in Wonka's factory would be a marvelous prize in itself, I have a feeling that Mr. Wonka has something else in mind. Otherwise he would not have sent out only five Tickets. I think the tour is a disguise for something else."
"Like an evaluation of some sort?"
"Perhaps. In that case, the other ticket winners would be nothing more than competition. And while I may possess a higher intelligence than the other ticket winners, I admit that I am lacking in social skills. That, perhaps, may be the determining factor during the tour in Wonka's factory." He paused to flick through the television channels, searching for a news station. "The purpose of my waiting, Butler, is so that in the event one or more of the other children possesses better social skills than I, I may simply slip the unopened candybar to someone more deserving."
Butler gave him a dubious look. "Surely that is not all you would do."
Artemis feigned a look of innocence, giving up when Butler's knowing expression did not change.
"Well, no. I suppose that is not all. I would give the candybar to someone more deserving, but then the recipient would naturally be indebted to me for providing such a wonderful opportunity. He would owe me a favor. Maybe two."
"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours?"
Artemis nodded. "A relevant American metaphor, though in this case it would relate to chocolate." He found a news program on BBC and settled back to watch.
A news reporter from Germany was interviewing a local family, the Gloops, as they dined at an expensive restaurant. Though the words were translated into English subtitles, Artemis understood German and didn't bother reading the poorly translated phrases at the bottom of the screen. Instead, he watched the family of interest, analyzing them from their body language and speech patterns.
Both parents were, frankly, obese. Their faces and arms were paste-colored and pudgy, making Artemis think of great balls of dough being readied for baking. Their son Augustus, who had found the Golden Ticket, looked no different than his parents. He shoveled food into his mouth at an alarming rate, blatantly ignoring the reporters who were trying to get the story from him. They turned to the parents instead.
"I just knew Augustus would find a Golden Ticket," Mrs. Gloop said proudly, dabbing conscientiously at her flabby face with a napkin. "He eats so many candybars a day, that it was impossible for him not to find one!"
"It's all vitamins anyway," Mr. Gloop added. "He wouldn't eat like that if he didn't need them. We are proud of him, we are!"
Artemis stifled a snicker, looking away from the television to meet Butler's questioning gaze. "Do you think I have a chance of overcoming him in a personality contest?"
Butler's expression didn't change, but Artemis could have sworn he had seen a flash of smugness pass through the manservant's eyes.
"More than enough, sir. That sod will not get far in life; he would eat any benefactor out of house and home, and would no doubt die early of a heart attack."
Artemis nodded, glancing back to the candybar on the table. He could keep it...for now.
Three days passed without news of the Golden Tickets, and Artemis busied himself with other matters. While his mother was gone from the house, he checked on the progression of numerous criminal activities he had begun...draining assets from the Swedish bank accounts of various Mafiya mob bosses, hacking into the database of the MI6, funding a raid of Egyptian tombs... He was so absorbed in this work that he did not hear Butler entering the command center, a remote in hand. The manservant cleared his throat. "Mater Fowl."
Artemis tore himself away from the compound screens, an irritated look in his eyes. "Yes, Butler?"
The manservant was not perturbed by Artemis' tone; he often found the boy's piercing gaze to be somewhat unsettling, but he had grown used to the response he received when he interrupted a scheme in the works. He merely held out the remote. "Another Ticket has been found, sir."
Artemis' irritation vanished suddenly, and his countenance became like that of an eager child. He seized the remote with an excitement that surprised even Butler, who had never seen the boy act this way before. Artemis stood up from the screens, following Butler into the living area where a television stood. He pointed the remote, the screen flickering to life as he seated himself on a gold-trimmed divan. Butler stood behind, hands clasped in front of him.
The news channel had live coverage of the story, and Artemis found himself intrigued as he watched news reporters entering a large building, the words SALT NUTS INC painted in huge lettering on the outside wall. The place, apparently, was a factory; the cameraman panned back and forth to take in the expanse of the facility before following the reporters to the administrative offices, where the interview was to take place. Mr. Salt, CEO of Salt Nuts Incorporated, was eager to recount the story of the Ticket find to the reporters.
"You see, fellows, as soon as my little girl told me she had to have one of those Golden Tickets, I went tout into the town and started buying up all the Wonka candy bars I could lay my hands on. Thousands of them I must have bought. Hundreds of thousands. Then I had them loaded onto trucks and sent directly to this factory, which you probably had the opportunity to see before coming to my office. The nut business, you see, requires numerous workers to shell the nuts from the husks. I have about a hundred workers shelling nuts around the clock, and the nuts are then roasted or salted, then sent to packaging...but I digress. After I bought the Wonka bars, I told my workers, 'okay, everyone, from now on you can stop shelling peanuts and start shelling the wrappers off these candybars instead.'" And they did, from dawn till dusk. Three days went by, and we had no luck. Oh, it was terrible! My little Veruca got more and more upset each day. She would throw a tantrum, refuse to go to school until she had one. And as I value a good education, and civilised behavior, I vowed I would keep up the search until I found a Golden Ticket for her. Well, on the fourth day, we finally found one. I gave it to Veruca, and now she's back in school and as well behaved as ever, and we have a happy home again."
The camera panned to show the whole of the happy family, Mr. Salt on one side, Mrs. Salt on the other, and their daughter Veruca standing between them and waving her Golden Ticket with a smug sort of excitement.
Artemis raised a brow as he analyzed her figure. By her appearance she was about eleven, English, and an heir to wealth...she was wearing a pretty pastel pink dress, an ermine-layered cloak draped across her shoulders. Artemis felt something stir in his chest. Not an attraction to her, but to her wealth. A possible ally, he thought, but as he evaluated her further, he put away his former idea. She was young, inexperienced, and infantile. She whined for what she wanted, and threw a tantrum like a toddler would. It didn't help that her parents coddled her and gave her everything she wanted, though he could not deny he was slightly jealous. I wish my parents would at least make an effort for me, he thought distantly. A second later he banished the feeling of longing. It wasn't becoming of a criminal mastermind, after all.
"Do you think Mr. Wonka would find her appealing?" he casually asked Butler. He knew the man had an uncanny ability for discerning the true character of people by the way they looked or acted. After a moment, Butler shook his head. "She is a spoiled one. Neither conducive to business, nor attractive in a physical sense. Though her relationship to the CEO of Europe's largest nut company might play a factor in a contest of popularity."
Artemis grunted...a rare expression on his part...and he shrugged. "A viable opponent, but not a real risk. I highly doubt Mr. Wonka would select anyone because of business connections, but it would not hurt to be unduly suspicious." He looked to the television again, eyes narrowed at the video footage of the prim girl waving her Golden Ticket in front of the camera. And as he continued to watch, he felt more and more certain that he hated her.
The next day, Artemis was once again sitting before the numerous screens in his command room, monitoring the activities of his rivals. Many men had tried in vain to outsmart Artemis Fowl, though they never knew his real name...or the fact that he was only ten. It was a source of personal delight to him, as well as a way to keep funds flowing into the Fowl treasury while his father was away. Today, however, he had made sure to devote one of the screens to news feed, which was the reason he heard a newscaster announce that two more Golden Tickets had been found.
The third Golden Ticket was found by a girl named Violet Beauregarde, an American as Artemis determined from her appearance and accent, though it was difficult to understand what she was saying during the interview because she was chewing loudly on a piece of gum while talking.
"I'm a gumchewer mostly, but when I heard about these ticket things, I laid off the gum and switched to candybars instead. Of course, I'm right back on gum again. I chew it all day, except at mealtimes when I stick it behind my ear..."
Artemis made a slightly disgusted look here,
"I simply adore gum! It may interest you to know that this piece of gum that I'm chewing right now is one I've been working on for three months solid! And that's a record! It's beaten the record held by my best friend, Miss Cornelia Prinzmetal, and boy is she mad! Oh, I'm also excited to be going to Mr. Wonka's factory, and I understand that he'll be giving me enough gum to last me the rest of my life! Hurray!"
The disgusted look remained on Artemis' face, though he did not look away from the screen. Butler had come in behind him, and regarded the news with a shake of the head. "American."
"Not all of them are like that," Artemis said. "Luckily."
The program cut to a commercial, during which Artemis checked the other screens. He managed to attach a nasty virus onto a competitor's website, then covered his tracks before the news came back on. The next story was about the fourth ticket winner, another American, named Mike Teavee.
Reporters and cameramen had crowded into the Teavee home to get an interview with the lucky finder, but the boy seemed frustrated with the whole business. newscasters asked him questions, and cameras flashed constantly, but Mike was oblivious to it all, his eyes glued to a television screen.
"Can't you fellas go bug someone else? I'm trying to watch this show!"
The reporters turned to the parents instead.
"Kids these days," Mr. Teavee sighed, "what with technology and all…don't stay kids for very long."
Mrs. Teavee didn't seem flustered by her son's behavior at all. "I serve all his meals right here. He's never even been to the table. But he doesn't cause any trouble, like the hooligans and gangsters out there. He's such a good boy."
Artemis gazed steadily at the screen, his eyes glittering, while he unconsciously pulled out the candybar he had been keeping in his pocket for this moment. "The consensus, Butler?"
"Opinion, or fact, Master Fowl?"
"Both."
The manservant appeared thoughtful, a shadow of a grin gracing his lips. "I would not choose any of them, if I were Mr. Wonka. They lack both civility and intellect to be chosen for anything."
Artemis smiled as he opened the candybar, revealing a flash of gold. "I thought the same."