Inattentive Contretemps

Author Note: (Wow this had a lot of misspelling and such, sorry about that, I lost my subscription to word when I was writing this, and the spell check stopped working, so a lot of sleep deprived work didn't get assistance. Fear not, I have a new writing program, and will be able to be 99.99 percent misspell free)

Hi *Wave* so, in what I saw in a lot of stories and, I'm assuming (can never remember), the book and/or movie said; its been fifteen years since the chocolate factory was closed down (I don't know if it's fifteen years from when the movie started or when Wonka began to sell his candies again) so that's what I'm going on in this story. I also want to put that I don't really know and wont even try to put down Wonka's age, I'm assuming he's somewhere in his thirties (either late or early) because that's (somewhere about) Johnny Depp's age when he played him (usually actors' characters are close to or similar in age) or he's probably early forty based on the fact that they might want to portray him as old for fretting about getting an heir (Based on Mel Stuart) yet still keep him 'young'—hey, if your forty, your old *Run from my mother and her swinging wooden spoon*. Anyways, I assume that Wonka started his business when he was 17-19 (whatever is a legal adult age in England)—why so early is because he was abandon at, what, ten? (Hell, he had to hurry up and get a job once the [hopefully] orphanage he lived in kicked his crazy candy loving ass out)and that he either closed it down when he was (now I'm really just throwing numbers out there) twenty, twenty-two…-ish. So in my story that'll make him late thirty-some'n or early forty—but don't you go thinking that, I'm just assuming.

Shout out: Many thanks to Jessai'e, Nightcrawlerlover, Revolution-Roullette, and Your Worshipfulness for reviewing my one-shot (which is an extension to this) and accepting this story and not running in horror by it's deliciously forbidden-ness. If it weren't for them, I would have coward in a corner and never released it. (Or just not care what you think and released it anyways. But don't tell them that, I want them to feel special) Kuuuu-that's one of my happy noise.

Warning: Old people, humiliation of said old person, envy of a clipboard, and creepiness. Please contact your physical adviser before reading this fic, thank yoooou.

Disclaimer: I don't own it people, I just own my made up meaning of the story and the characters you know weren't in the books or movies. Johnny Depp Wonka (He sometimes roleplay him for me squoo-another happy noise)

Summery: five golden ticket winners—Mr. Augustus Gloop, Miss Veruca Salt, Miss Violet Beauregarde, Mr. Mike Teavee, and Mr. Charlie Bucket; all lucky winners of the little golden prize. Willy Wonka, the king of artifice, the master of disorientation, and obviously the creator of agitation and ingenuity. The deck was always dealt in his favor… except for the last two. Wonka purposely picked five certain children with five certain attributes—that idea was struck down when Mike and Charlie came into the picture. Who were the two children Wonka meant to receive the golden tickets? And what if Wonka made a way for them to join the factory tour, with or without a golden ticket?


Chapter one: I must find a hair.

"I'm the girl who's gonna win the special prize at the end."—"Well, you do seem confident and confidence is key."

"I'm Augustus Gloop. I love your shocolate." — "I can see that. So do I. I never expected to have so much in common."

"You, you're Mike Teavee. You're the little devil who cracked the system."—"And you… well, you're just lucky to be here, aren't you?"

"Why would Augustus' name already be in the Oompa Loompa song-?"—"-Improvisation is parlor trick, anyone can do it."

Why did Willy Wonka have a problem with Mike hacking to win the golden ticket when Veruca bought her whole state's supply of Wonka bars? Why was Charlie the only 'lucky to be here' child when he found the golden ticket 'like everyone else'? And how did the Oompa Loompas know what song to sing, when to sing, and who to sing about? The answer is not money, poverty, or improvised parlor tricks, all the answers point to Willy Wonka. Willy Wonka knew what children to send the golden tickets to; he wouldn't just allow anyone into his factory, after all.


Little hands massaged fiercely at what's seemed to be a mound of bubbles; the hands belonged to tiny men that went by the name of Oompa-Loompas. Two Oompa-Loompas massaged the bubbles as two others poured mounds of shampoo into the overflowing mix. Once the four was done, they cleared as a fifth Oompa-Loompa came in with a huge blue and red shower hose and turned it on full blast. The bubbles dissolved to nothing but sudsy watered scum, under the silken layer of water was soaked cordovan tendrils; which bounced each time droplets of water dripped from them.

Willy Wonka brushed the strands of hair that stuck to his face; the Ooompa-Loompa put away the enormous hose and pulled out a similar white one. The four Oompa-Loompas' pulled out combs as the hose began to blow dry at the set temperature of air from its nozzle. Combing the hair with the same persistence as when they were washing, the Oompa-Loompas continued until it was slick and straight. Turning the hose off, the Oompa-loompa jumped off the stool to put it away.

The combing Oompa-Loompas bowed and left while one Oompa-Loompa stayed as he pulled out a bottle of hair gel. The Oompa-Loompa stood back on the stool and began to gently massage the gel into Wonka's locks. After his hair was silk and shiny, the Oompa-Loompa began to trim and even the tips of his hair. Now with even leveled hair, the Oompa-loompa began to curl the ends; when the hair was parted to curl the final piece, the Oompa-Loompa jumped slightly, a gray hair! Wonka looked back, thinking the poor Oompa-Loompa burned himself; the Ooompa-loompa grabbed the side of his head to stop him from turning around. Wonka mouth an 'oookay' as he settled in his seat, the Oompa-Loompa heaved a silent sigh as he reached for the scissors he placed on the table; singling the gray hair out, the Oompa-Loompa snipped it off, he then proceeded on combing his hair.

The Oompa-Loompa dusted his hands off and Wonka lifted a hand mirror. Wonka smiled as he looked at himself to see his newly refined pageboy cut; his look turned into a puzzled one as he saw one extra long strand of hair on his shoulder. Pinching his forefinger and thumb together, Wonka grabbed the hair to get a better look; as the hair came closer to his eyes, his lip raised slightly in disgust. The Oompa-Loompa stayed silent as he watched for a reaction; Wonka's face went blank as a cloudy mist flash through his violet eyes. The Oompa-Loompa stared questionably as his client showed signs of distress.

"I must find an 'hair'." Wonka whispered as he stared at his silent symbol of age.

Wonka stood and gave a small bow, the Oompa-Loompa returned it; checking off Wonka's name on a clipboard. Still holding the hair, Wonka stalked off out of the room. Steadily glowering at the hair, Wonka stepped into the elevator as he automatically pushing a button that read 'shrink—and not the small kind!' The elevator rushed up and zoomed to the left, slings to the right, and dived down diagonally into a comfy looking white room. The elevator doors open and Wonka stepped out; he continued to stare at the hair as he walked over to the psychologist couch and stiffly lay back on it.

The psychologist Oompa-Loompa walked over from his desk to hop in his chair, and pulled out a clipboard and pen. Minutes past, Wonka laid there grimly staring at the hair in his fingers and the shrink silently tapping on the clipboard, occasionally scribbling down unknowns. Wonka's mouth would slightly open, but no words would come out. The Oompa-Loompa shifted slightly and hopped off the chair, he then walked over to Wonka and pried the hair from his fingers. He then began to inspect it; the Oompa-Loompa looked at Wonka and nodded, he then handed it back to Wonka and wrote more unknowns down.

"You're saying that I need a doctor for this?" Wonka state more then asked. The Oompa-Loompa looked over at him, nodded, and then began to write in his clipboard.

"But I don't like doctors…-" Wonka started; the Oompa-Loompa raised an eyebrow.

"-… Not that I don't like doctors, I just don't like doctors…-" Wonka tried to explain; the Oompa-Loompa's eyebrow was still raised.

"-… it's just… it's the whole idea of..." Wonka balks. The shrink nodded and began to scribble on his clipboard again.

"Your right… to face this… I'll need medical, not mental treatment, because age is a mental not a medical issue!" Wonka announced as he once again fixated his attention to the hair.

Walking off, Wonka step in to the elevator. The Oompa-Loompa watched him as the glass doors began to close—Wonka stuffed his cane through the doors before they closed all the way; causing the doors to slide back open.

"Thanks, you're a genius!" Wonka added, letting the door slide; the Oompa-Loompa still watched.

"Oh!" Wonka stopped the door again.

"Strike that, reverse it!" Wonka quickly retracted his cane as the doors forcefully closed. The Oompa-Loompa smiled and shrugged modestly as the elevator lifted and shot off out of the room.

The elevator zipped past a huge room with metal pillars stretching from wall to wall; other then that, it was virtually empty. Wonka stopped the elevator and slowly glided back towards the useless room. Drawing his attention from the hair and looking around, Wonka shrugged.

"I should put something in here someday." The elevator lurched, going back to its fast pace.

Eventually the elevator stopped at a cream room that was designed as a waiting room. When the elevator landed, Wonka stepped from the elevator; still focused on the hair. He walked to the booth where a female Oompa-Loompa looked up from her scribbling on her clipboard to greet him; she smile and pointed to some chairs, not looking, Wonka slunk to one of the chairs rested on the walls and sat down. A few minutes went and the door opened to show another female Oompa-Loompa cradling a wailing baby, Wonka looked up and cringe; either from fear of what caused the baby to sob so fierce or from disgust by the baby itself.

An Oompa-Loompa dressed in a nurse's suit walked out behind them, looking at her clipboard, the nurse wave Wonka over and walked back through the doors. Wonka stood, keeping an eye on the Oompa-Loompa and the hair, while following behind. The Oompa-Loompa stopped to open a door, holding it open for Wonka to enter before coming in there herself. Wonka looked around the room; a room that greatly resembled a pediatrician's.

"So…" Wonka started, the Oompa-Loompa looked up and frowned; turning the clipboard towards him and tapping it. It read 'Last Appointment: Thirteenyears ago' in bold red letters.

"Oh… heh, that." Wonka nervously laughed, switching from her to his hair so he wouldn't have to make eye contact.

The Oompa-Loompa shook her head and tsked. She then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a measuring stick that was glued to the wall and looked like a cute long neck goose with a onesie on; it only went to four feet and on the side read 'Children and or Oompa-Loompas', the Oompa-Loompa frowned. She pulled him back and took him to the other wall, which too had a measuring stick; instead this one was a giraffe that wore a business suit and it's neck bent awkwardly at the ceiling to try and stay in the room, the side read 'old people' Wonka frowned.

Reluctantly being measured, Wonka was guided to two scales; one had little feet, the other had big feet. One read 'old people' and the other 'Children and or Oompa-Loompas', Wonka frowned as he was pushed onto the one that said 'Old people'. After the Oompa-Loompa read his weight, she sat him down on the bed table. She then pulled out a shelf that had two of every thing in it, one was big and the other small. Wonka glowered as he knew he was going to be treated with the things that read 'Old people'.

"Heh… What I really need you to look at is this." Wonka said nervously as he showed her the gray strand.

She paused and stared at the hair, she ignored him and pulled out a thermometer. After his temperature was taken and his arm squeezed half to death, the Oompa-Loompa nurse checked a few things on her clipboard and then left the room. A minute later, another Oompa-Loompa came in; this one was male and wore a doctor's coat. Wonka looked up from the hair and thrust it forward, the Oompa-Loompa flipped threw his clipboard and put it aside to take the hair from him. The doctor studied the hair; jiggling it to see if it were loose or stiff, tugging it to see if it was strong or weak, rubbing it—the Oompa-Loompa doctor looked shocked and looked over to Wonka—who just smiled and nodded; the hair was silky smooth.

The Doctor's smile fell when he looked at the hair up in the light. Wonka frowned when he saw the doctor shake his head and scribble something on his clipboard, flipping it over it read 'You're old'-'

"Am not!" Wonka shouted as he stood up. The doctor shook his head.

"I'm not in denial either." Wonka said crossing his arms. The doctor shook his head and handed the hair back to him. Wonka stared down at it sadly; he then chucked the hair in a waste basket.

"So… How long do I have." Wonka asked dramatically. The doctor jumped and began to fiercely make various hand signs, pointing to Wonka's age on his clipboard.

"Oh! Okay then." Wonka quickly cheered up.

"Ya see, I thought this whole g-g…g-g-guuuu…" Wonka balked. "… Silver hair-thing was the end of me, heh, can you believe it." Wonka regained himself, laughing with glee; the doctor joined him. With a whole new air of confidence, Wonka lounged on the bed.

"And here I was, thinking I needed an heir, ha!" Wonka laughed. The doctor stopped and stared; Wonka looked over to him to see why he stopped laughing.

"Y-you think I need an heir…?" Wonka asked; the doctor grimace but nodded. Wonka stared at the ceiling for a long time; the doctor stared at him sympathetically.

"… H-…h-how would I even get one?" Wonka asked to no one in particular. The doctor looked over and made a head gesture at a picture of a pregnant Oompa-Loompa female; Wonka followed his gaze.

"Oh… Taking care of the candies is enough, I mean, no offense but the last time I let one of you Oompa-Loompa make a candy, whew heh, it wasn't too good, let me tell you-" The doctor raised an eyebrow, not convinced

"Oooh… you mean… me go and… with uh… Oookaay, no, ew." Wonka shuddered.

"-Cutting a baby out of an Oompa-Loompa's stomach and genetically altering it's genes so it can make good chocolate .sick, and I wont support any of it." The doctor gave an jaded sigh.

"Or-… wait or-or…!" Wonka sat up getting an idea.

"Or! I could get a child from out there!" He and the doctor stared at a blank wall, as if there were a window there.

"But then what if the child tells my secrets…" Wonka enthusiasm died down as he thought about it. Wonka then stared blankly at the doctor.

"… It won't be able to… because it will be my heir, it won't even leave the factory!" Wonka stood from the bed. He then walked over and shook the Oompa-Loompa doctor's hand.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Wonka let go of the doctor's hand.

"Ya know, you should be a therapist." picking up his cane, he then looked for his hat; it wasn't here! Through the whole silver hair-thing, Wonka didn't even put back on his hat!

Wonka stopped "How old should it be? Should she be young?—like five; five's a good age, or should he be old; like sixteen?" Wonka began to count on his shiny gloved fingers.

"Well, I gotta get go'n! So little do, and so much to time! Reverse that, Strike it—no wait, that's just violent… Reversely strike that!" Wonka stalked off, he didn't have time to correct himself.

Rushing to get to the elevator, Wonka 'almost' tripped over an Oompa-Loompa that was tinted blue. The Oompa-Loompa at the desk waved as he sped past her. He didn't even have time to wave at the female Oompa-Loompa as he hopped into the elevator.

"I'm going to have a baby!"

Break

Wonka retrieved his hat from the barber and was now sitting in his office; two other Oompa-Loompas were there with him. Wonka was flicking threw millions of children from the ages 4-17 on a large computer screen, while the Oompa-Loompas searched through gigantic books—writing down the kids they choose in a clipboard; where these books' of 'all the children in the world' came from—Willy didn't even know. Wonka was skimming through the 'A's in an unnaturally fast pace while his eyes were somehow able to perusal every last picture and description.

"Ah! Heh, here's one I like: eats chocolate, breathes chocolate, love chocolate, and he has a picture to prove it." Wonka said, stopping and enlarging a picture of a kid by the name of Augustus Gloop.

"He'd do anything for chocolate!" Wonka said with starry eyes.

"…Plus he lives in Düsseldorf Germany, town… of Gaststätte Düsselheim! —Welp, I like everything about him." Wonka read the boy description, picking his heir on the spot.

The Oompa-Loompas stop their riffling through the books and looked up; they exchanged looks then sending it to Wonka, who stared back offended

"What? Is the love of chocolate not enough?" Wonka was appalled. One of the Oompa-Loompas gave a hand gesture, the other nodded in agreement. They were referring to their list of children they had on their clipboards.

"Why do all of you have one of those? I want one…" Wonka said absent mindlessly as he silently read off some of the children they had listed. Flipping the clipboard down, Wonka huffed.

"Fine, maybe I should 'add more-" Wonka quoted. "-before I choose'." Turning back around, Wonka saved and pushed the 'biography: Augustus Gloop' to the side and began to search for more kids.

Wonka found two other kids that were in the same age range, Veruca Salt and Violet Beauregarde. He stopped near the 'X', it may seem really close to 'Z' but in reality, there were actually 2.5 thousand and some pages left and Wonka didn't have the patients or the attention span to go through the rest; three was enough right? Minimizing the screen and pushing the computer over and off his desk—shattering on contact, he then turned to the Oompa-Loompas.

"I have three." Wonka said competitively. The Oompa-Loompas didn't look impressed; not to push the matter forward, they gave him their clipboard and waited as he looked them over—there was over twenty children on there.

"Don't like this one… That ones' not so good… Her face looks funny…-" Wonka was just crossing off names left and right. The Oompa-Loompas glanced at each other, not one was going to mention the names and appearance of the children Wonka picked.

"-…And he's too old." Wonka finished, slopping his red 'WW' emblem marker across the child's picture.

The Oompa-Loompas quickly picked up the second clipboard as Wonka went for it. Wonka looked slightly offended as they protectively held it out of his grasp. They then quickly looked over it and circled the two children they particularly liked. Quickly slipping the clipboard from them, Wonka looked the names over; one was male and the other female. Wonka really didn't care to take much notice in their detail and picture; he just read what properties they could bring to the factory.

"Okay." Wonka smiled, flipping the clipboard on the desk. The Oompa-loompa's smiled.

"Now which one; my personal favorite is the little Düsseldorf boy… Well he's not exactly little… he is little, just not little…-" Wonka rambled as he tried to correct himself.

The Oompa-Loompas stopped his rambling by exchanging hand gestures. Wonka watched as they had a little conversation between each other, feeling a little left out; Wonka began to doodle the name's he choose next to the ones the Oompa-Loompa choose. Turning back towards him, the Oompa-Loompas then shared their ideas; Wonka's face hardened.

"That'll mean I'll have to bring all five into my factory…" Wonka sat straight, not liking their idea at all; the Oompa-Loompas were persistent.

"How could I trust children, when adults—the mature ones—were the cause of me closing the factory." Wonka said seriously. The Oompa-Loompas looked at him knowingly

"… That's just it… isn't it?" Wonka stopped his forming flashback.

"The adults were mature… They can't understand candy because your not suppose to!" The Oompa-Loompas smiled, Wonka mirrored them and stood.

"… I still pick the German boy." Wonka added after their laughing fest was over.

One Oompa-Loompa did a hand gesture as he pointed to the kids they choose. Wonka and the other Oompa-Loompa looked down at the clipboard; he was pointing to their deficient side of them. Each one had something that would clash with Wonka's ideal heir.

"Hmm… That's going to be a problem, isn't it?" Wonka said as he read their quirks; the Oompa-Loompa nodded in agreement.

"Well, their not too bad…" The Oompa-Loompas didn't look too convinced.

"… Heh… we'll just have to test them." Wonka added when he saw that the Oompa-Loompas didn't agree.

Gathering his cane, Wonka walked from his desk—making sure to step over the shattered, yet oddly still on and working, computer he pushed off from his desk. Stepping into his glass elevator, that he had patiently waiting for him, Wonka stood and waited.

"Well come on, I can't do this by myself." Wonka called to the two Oompa-Loompas who both exchanged looks and stood to join him.

Break

"Have you all practiced?" The many Oompa-Loompas nodded.

"Okay good. Now all I need is a greeting… it has to be something good…" Wonka stopped to think. An Oompa-Loompa Raised his hand, Wonka gladly pointed to him. "Yes, you?"

The Oompa-Loompa stood and did a dancing motion. Wonka looked interested and nodded as if he was actually talking. "Uh-huh, no; way too sticky, next!" The Oompa-Loompa frowned but sat down.

Another raised its hand; he stood and pretends to play a flute, dancing around and everything. "Heh, cute, but then where would the tigers go after the tour? Another?" This went on for about an hour until all the Oompa-Loompa's where bored.

"Well? We need something!" Wonka said, watching as the Oompa-Loompas' eyes began to stray, and no more hand's raised. "Fine, fine." Wonka stood from the crowd of over worked Oompa-Loompas, looking around, he frowned.

This was that empty room again, he decided to make it a conference room, but he really wasn't digging it. The room just didn't have the feel to it, looking around; he saw that all the little Oompa-Loompas have left. Sighing, Wonka walked over to his glass elevator, reaching his arm out, he notice that it wasn't in the spot he left it in, well, the spot he thinks he left it in; he never really could ever find that thi-… Wonka quickly jumped up from the ground and looked around, no one saw. Fixing his hat and jacket, Wonka then opened the doors and stood in it.

What he really needed where some down time. Pressing the 'Television Room' button, Wonka was lifted and propelled up and out of the dull blank room. Landing softly, Wonka stepped out of the elevator, he walked through the doors, pulling down his own unique pair of shades. In the Television Room, Wonka sat on a big white comfy bean bag chair and picked up an overly large remote; clicking the only button on the remote, Wonka blinked, nothing happened.

Two Oompa-Loompas walked towards Wonka, and informed him that the television was currently under repairs. Wonka, appalled, suggested that the two find something that could be entertaining. Thinking for a while, the Oompa-Loopmas began to act out a scene of some sort; Wonka didn't really know. He stared at them with a confused face. The Oompa-Loompas left and came back with two hand puppets; one was Wonka himself and the other was a female of some sort, they then began to act the scene again.

Wonka still had a look of confusion, until he saw the puppet Willy and the female began to furiously, and quite drolly, kiss each other. Wonka's eyes widen and quickly separated the glued puppets. Holding each puppet separately in different hands, Wonka glared down at the laughing Oompa-Loompas. The Oompa-Loompas straighten up, but both raised an eyebrow.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Wonka asked, but he knew what they were hinting at.

The Oompa-Loomaps gesture confirmed this. Wonka's face blanked, as if in a daze, the Oompa-Loompas glanced at each other, thinking maybe they might have offended him. Wonka lifted the puppets into view as he gazed at them with a blank stare.

"I think you're on to something…" Wonka mumbled, looking at the two dolls. The Oompa-Loompas shared another glance, they've been doing things like this for ten years, and it now seems like a good idea to him. Both of them shrugged as he pocketed the two dolls.

"I have an idea." Wonka voiced, pointing a finger in the air. The Oompa-Loompa's didn't question and followed as he past his elevator and down the hall.

"Need the exercise, ha." Wonka said to the two as the shared odd looks.

"This is going to be great!" Wonka exclaimed as he walked through the doors of the room where he design and create his colorful curtains and wrappings.

"You." He stopped a passing Oompa-Loompa. The Oompa-Loompa blinked as he was handed the two dolls. "I need more of these; bigger, plastic-y-er-" He then took back the Willy doll "-less handsome-" Wanka winked at the doll, and pocketed it again, "-but more… cutesie!" He smiled and the Oompa-Loompa returned it.

"Good, good—I'll be back tomorrow, to see what you have." Wonka turned on his heel and stalked off; leaving the three Oompa-Loompas to stare after in bewilderment.

Wonka left to his study with a smile on his face; he felt so giddy, one week, and he was already more than half way finished with his 'heir' problem. Was he good, or was he good! It's as if everything was kissed by god and placed on his cobblestoned future. Ah, life was good. Wonka felt so great that day; that he even finished all his checks on his factory—life was good.

Willy Wonka walked the halls of his factory with a smile on his face; a jump in his step each time he walked—no—glided. Wonka turned and entered through the doors of his craft room to be met with big marbled eyes of twelve puppets. They were bald, missing the top of their heads to be exacted, and a pale sheet of skin pink with no real color definition; other than that, they were fantastic!

"Oh great; your almost done!" Some Oompa-Loompas stopped to gesture while others continued their work without distractions "Good thing I came before you decorated them! Because I gots a few suggestions." Wonka started as the last doll was lined up.

"Now I'm looking for a kind'a… Chef, slash baker, slash muffin man, slash…-" And Wonka continued.

The day went by in a breeze, actually, all of Wonka's days go by without a hitch; minus the nagging nuisance of responsibilities and dependance, life would seem to go by in a breeze. However, something felt good about this; no, not the thought of opening his factory to a bunch of children that needs to learn to keep their grubby little hands to themselves, but the feeling of actually conquering a 'problem' without, well, a problem!

Back into the room with the dolls, a day has passed, and Wonka was happy to see them painted and dressed with the appropriate atire and arranged in the design of his vision. Clapping, Wonka then pulled out a letter from his jacket.

"Now I need my big opening." Wonka said as the Oompa-Loompas worked around to look for and set up what he needed.

Minutes later, two Oompa-Loompas came through with a simple, but elegant, red and gold wooden chair, placing it in the middle. Wonka walked over and sat down, striking a suave pose; one leg lifted, with his ankle resting on the others knee, his hands clasped with his cane hugged under his elbow; a soft, yet very alluring, smile on his face.

"Play it." He ordered. Pulling the lever, the Oompa-Loompas then waited and watched.

There was silence, but the dolls turned and spun as was instructed. At the end, the dolls stopped and closed into their case. The Oompa-Loompas clapped and cheered, half for their work and the other half for actually enjoying it. Wonka lifted from his chair and stared down at the Oompa-Loompas; they all looked up at him, waiting for his judgment.

"I…" The Oompa-Loompas leaned in, "I… couldn't see a thing." Wonka laughed. "Do it again, I'll stand right here." The Oompa-Loompas shook their head and played it again. When finished, Wonka began to clap.

"Fantastic! It's great." Wonka's applause died down. "You know, I think it needs some… Floosh!" Wonka exclaimed; making an explosion gesture with his hands. "Something that just, hn un." He made more flashing gestures. "Like fire works! Or sparklers!" He stated. Turning he smiled down at the Oompa-Loompas and gestured for them to make it happen.

Hours passed and Wonka was called back into the craft shop; it was fairly easy to get 'explosives' for Wonka's experiment, seeing as he uses them all the time. Standing to watch, Wonka and the Oompa-Loompas waited for the puppets to do their show, once finished, an Oompa-Loompa pressed a button and a spark flared out over the chair; it was mild to where it almost glittered.

"That was…" Wonka started, the Oompa-Loompas leaned in. "Kind of appalling… very lame." Wonka finished, "But more of that, yeah? Just slightly more-" Wonka clamped his hands; the Oompa-Loompas nodded and started over again from scratch.

Rearing the night, Wonka was called back into the room, same routine After the show, the button was pushed and a flare of sparks erupted. Wonka and the Oompa-Loompas jumped as a few dolls set fire. The Oompa-loompas could only watch until the sparks died down. Some Oompa-Loompas sprang forward as they tried to save the melting dolls; the others stared at their candy ruler as he clapped.

"Wow! I can't believe how great that turned out, just like I'd imagined!" Wonka fawned. He then looked over to half the dolls that were damaged in the process.

"Make doubles, tomorrow we'll test run it again—after that; we'll make a little song, and all will be easy peesy." Wonka left the Oompa-Loompas to their work.

A month had passed since Wonka's 'hair' problem, this all was taking longer then he thought; he assumed that he'd have everything done—from the kids coming, to him choosing—then he'd be back to focusing on candy, but all that failed to flop, and he was going to have a creative overload. He notice that he was spending more time in his craft room, he had to move the puppets out when the burnt ones started to pile up, 'to that one room' he told them; miraculously, they understood and found the blank room Wonka referred to. In the craft room, Wonka watched as they stretched and flatten a sheet of gold; evenly cutting out five rectangles, then placing them on a table in front of him. Wonka pulled out a long pen like stick, where he began to hand carve his inscription into the sheets of gold, which would soon be his golden tickets into the factory.

Wonka played around a bit, signature name in different spots of each ticket, a doodle here and a doodle there. When entirely bored with it, Wonka left them for the Oompa-Loompas to give the edges their design. Wonka was met by an Oompa-Loompa in the chocolate bar line up; he was in one of the many rooms were he make his milk chocolate bars. The Oompa-Loompa lifted a gold ticket and Wonka plucked one from his hands; placing the golden sheet over one bar, giving it a gentle pat, Wonka watched as the conveyor belt dragged it off to be wrapped.

"And that's off to Düsseldorf." Wonka mumbled.

"Now, off to the Buckinghamshire bars."


Five golden tickets; each nicely wrapped in specially hand made candy bars—all by Mr. Wonka himself. Wonka knew each child's pattern, everything from which time they buy it, to which one they'd pick. Yes the store owners would stock the candy bars differently, but the Oompa-Loompas would make sure to arrange them in their rightful place. Hell, let's even add some pizzazz to it and make it seem like a contest. Wonka typed up a flier, announcing his plans of allowing children into his factory; he made sure to make it seem special—how far would the world go to win something that they'd never truly have? Would they kill for it? Wonka would hope not—but it would be entertaining none the less. Right at this very instant, his fliers was being delivered; taped on every pole and store window the Oompa-Loompas could get their gloved hands on. World, let the games begin.


Author Note: I'm not saying this is how everything really happened (Of course I don't know what Roald Dahl was thinking) but I'm relaying the message I got from his story. Now you might see Will Wonka as a playful happy character; just a man whose mind never aged, forever the dreaming child—I do agree—buuuuut, I like writing characters with a little bite. I'll turn Barny into a slave owner who forces children to prostitute and make shoes—that's just how I roll. Yes, you can't make a meanie out of everyone, but think about it; do you think Wonka have a bad side? I mean, his father never allowed any candy, his father moved the joint house to get away from him (all in one day—the house was freaken attached to the other houses, man), he was brace-head for probably all his life until he was able to remove them (good lord only knows how he managed that), and when he finally make it in the world—his candy dream coming true—the competition doesn't play fair, and steals all his ideas; giving candy a bad name. I think Wonka is scared, he might seem nice; yes he's just a playful child—but I think Wonka still have some issues with people. But no fear! He made up with his father, and have Charlie to help along the way =D. But for now, in later chapters, he'll be a little… perniciously callous… and will be for a while.