I am back again! Yay I cannot believe that I am following my schedule of updating weekly(lets see how long that lasts...) Anyway, no point in rambling here, I would like to thank the amazing reviews who reviewed the last Chapter, and without any more delays... Enjoy!

I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I wish I did.

On the screen, was a rather large boy, perhaps about 5'6 in height and 136 Kilos**. He had black hair, that was parted to the left and nice chocolate brown eyes. Overall, he looked to be around my age. He was dressed in a striped white and Iris blue shirt, that was perhaps a size or two too small. For pants, he wore a shiny pair of leather pants, that, like his shirt, was just a bit too small. Across his neck was a plain silver chain, and on his right ear was a small hoop earring.

"Augustus," one reported called out to the round boy, "How did you find the ticket?"

"I vas sitting in my room last night," he began, his voice laced with a heavy German accent, "eating a bunch of chocolate. Then I felt some veird taste in my mouth. So I thought, 'is it Nogot? Sprinkles? Or marshmallow? I look down, and I see the shiny piece of the golden ticket!"

I tried to picture his story in my head, I could see him in room, the lights turned down low and the door locked. He was just sitting on his ass, shoveling the Wonka down like it was a drug. The moment when he found the ticket, he was so enthralled with the chocolate, that it took him a good minute to process the strange taste in his mouth. It must be nice to have something that makes you so happy.

The crowd of reporters flashed the cameras at the boy, who seemed to glow in the spotlight. His body was faced in an angel, giving him a slightly thinner appearance, and he was standing up straight. A big smile was sprawled across the mass of his face.

"Disgusting," my Grandpa George said, his mouth curling up into a taught snarl.

I parted my lips, "He seems nice." I said, trying to defend the guy. I always hated it when people were so judgemental, it just seemed to rub me the wrong way.

"Oh Charlie," my Grandpa continued, "you are too good of a person, obviously he is a snob."

"Do not just judge people," I began, then stopped the conversation not wanting to get into a fight with my already cranky grandpa. Instead I looked back at the boy on the screen, who was slowly beginning to lose his straight posture.

"Well," my father began turning off the TV, "now people are going to go more crazy now that one had been found.

"Yeah," I began slowly, "only four are left."

My father had been right about that, I noted that every single candy shop, no any shop that sold Wonka chocolate in general, had a line of at least a hundred people. Every person would be either scowling, perhaps because they haven't won yet, or smiling, excited to get more chocolate.

"All this fuss, over a freaking piece of chocolate," I mumbled with my hands in my pockets, "this just shows how messed up this world is." I walked the rest of the way home in silence, dreading the news of this once I got home.

When I had gotten home from school that day, my whole family was huddled around the telly like Artic penguins, "Who found it now?" I asked my mother who was the farthest away, standing to the side. I could only assume that this was about the whole Wonka thing.

She simply pointed to the TV, where a young girl, maybe around 13 was standing there, gleaming in the sunlight of the cameras, "My Name is Veruca. Veruca Salt." A plastic smile was pasted on her ivory face. She had dirty blond hair worn in loose ringlets and cloudy grey eyes, covered in eyeliner and shadow. She was dressed up like a doll, wearing a lavender ruffled dress that fell to her knees. The bodice was a simple sweetheart neck, with puff cap sleeves and a sash around the bust area.

"You see," the man behind her, who I guessed to be her father, began to speak, "when my darling Veruca said she needed one of those tickets, I did all I could in my power to do so. I bought all the Wonka chocolate I could find, and had my workers search all day to find one. I told them there is to be no pay until a ticket is found. At first it seemed like a ticket would never be found. Then, finally after a few torturous days without luck, we finally found one."

I took in a moment to take in the words this slimey man had said. I grimaced at his perfect suit, and his greased back hair, "So they cheated," I said blankly, not letting my anger pour out in my words.

Grandpa Joe was the first to break the hush-hush that had spread over the room, "She is much worse than the first one." We all mutually agreed, with a subtle head nod.

Grandpa George, livid about this topic, began to rant, "I cannot believe how helling bastards these days spoil their children to the point where they cannot control them any helling more! This is what's helling wrong with the world today!"

I agree, I sourly thought while going to shut off the TV, although if I had that kind of money, what would I do? Its too bad, that girl would have been so pretty if she wasn't a bitch.

The next day brought a new finder of the golden ticket. This girl, Violet, had short blond hair worn in a bowl haircut, and pretty blue eyes. Unfortunately, nobody would know with the giant ass tits that that girl was sporting on her chest.

She went on to talk about her love of gum, and how excited she was to meet . "Willy," she smiled showing off a row of perfectly straight white teeth, "I can't wait to meet you!" she squealed.

"So Violet," one reporter said, "How do you plan on winning the big prize over all the others who found a ticket."

She only grinned wider, "Is that really a question?" she giggled, "I mean look at me! I'm so much fun and happy that I am the only umm..." she paused for a second, and furrowed her brow. Then after a good thirty seconds of making slight thinking sounds, her face lit up and she said, "Oh yeah I'm the only logical choice." Still, she would not shut up, "and with my love of gum, Wonka will have to love me." She winked 'flirtatiously' towards the camera, before it panned out to a newscaster. He had huge a beehive haircut, that was the color of rust.

"Dumb. freaking. Blonde,"I muttered under my breath, earning a sharp look from my Dad. I just grabbed some more incoherent words to myself. I know I hate judging people, but when people are such attention whores, I just can't stand it.

"This just in!" The newscaster continued, " The fourth ticket has just been found in the United States. The boy is 15 year old genius Mike Teavee."

The screen panned to a boy wearing a yellow T-shirt with a girl with inhumanly large eyes and, long unnatural blue pigtails. The words "MIKU" were written underneath.

He had shoulder length ginger hair, that was worn in a small ponytail, he was smiling a tight closed mouth smile. He was standing in a room, littered with posters, all having anime characters on them. Most of them had the same girl on them as the pig-haired girl on his shirt.

"Mike!" A reporter said to the teen, "How did you feel when you found the ticket?"

Said boy now smiled brightly, showing a big gap between his two front teeth, "I felt great... Although I knew I was going to find one you see, all I had to do was..." he went on to explain the math behind his discovery in his high pitched voice, even for a boy of his age, "in the end I only had to open one bar of chocolate." He said this part with a swelling of pride.

"And how did the bar taste," a reporter asked to the shining boy.

"I don't know," MIke began," I don't like chocolate."

This sent my angry grandfather into a whore rampage, "Well its a bloody good thing that you are going to a helling chocolate factory now isn't it? I hope you burn in hell you damn ungrateful brute!"

"So there is only one ticket left," I said before turning off the TV, skillfully ignoring my grandfather..

"Thanks Ms. Apple!" I smiled as I received my paycheck from the nice lady, "I'll see you next week!"

She smiled back at me, her aged face giving off heat and sunshine and a slight hint of rainbow.. Her soft sandy blonde hair was hidden by a brick red hand stitched cap.

I walked out of the store, and immediately was greeted by the buzz of the latest ticket finder, some Russian dude.

Feeling relieved that I hadn't won, I decided to prove a point. Holding my head up high, I waked into the closest candy shop, which was one that I had never been in before in my life. In the deserted shop was a stout man, who looked awfully bored. The man had long coffee color locks, and a square face. On his face laid two round amber orbs, that looked like the were about to close any minute.

He lifted his head slightly, to see who was there, and then went back to being bored. I walked up to him and cleared my throat, making a loud sound in the process. The man didn't look up at first, so I repeated the noise, only louder. The man finally looked up, a look of aggravation evident in his eyes.

"One Plain Wonka Bar," I said handing him the money I recently had received.

He looked at me strangely, "You do know that the last ticket was found right?" His voice was sarcastic and tired, it seemed as if he had too many long nights.

"Yeah," I responded slowly, frowning slightly, "I know, thats why I'm buying one!" Damn I must sound crazy. I shot him an impatient look, Just give me the damn chocolate.

He gave me another look, that proved my thoughts to be true, but complied anyway. Reaching up behind him to the seemingly never ending rows of Wonka bars on display, he grabbed the one closest to him, and without looking at me, he took my money.

Just asI touched the bar, as a woman came in saying, "I cannot believe that the final ticket finding was a fake." Her voice was high and nasally, that was whining in manner.

No way. I looked down at the bar with bewildered eyes, as if it had some kind of plague.

"I know this is so outrageous, so there is another ticket out there." another voice added, a woman as well, except her's was deeper, and a bit more snobby. If that was possible.

No helling way. I began to unwrap the bar. Pecking at the red covering, with extreme care. I was like a bird, pecking at my food gingerly , as if any of it could be poisoned and kill me.

"I wonder where the ticket is?" The first woman asked again, her voice dragging out.

I peeled the whole outer wrapper off, and put it on the counter leaving only the plain silver lining covering the bar.

It can't be. I began to unpeel the silver. My heart was beginning to thrash in my chest. It felt like someone was taking a sword and relentlessly slashing the inside of body.

"It can be anywhere," the second woman said again, "the chances of it being in England though are very rare."

Budump I was almost done unwrapping.

Budump! Only a little bit left.

Budump!

Budump!

My heart stopped, "NO FREAKING WAY IN HELL!"

Underneath the silver lining, was a helling golden ticket. Thinner than a sheet of paper It lay there, glittering in the store lights. The bar of chocolate was long dropped, and only the piece of taunting gold was in my shaking hands.

It's official, life hates me. Why is it when I try to prove a point, live comes and bitch slaps me in the face.

"Oh my god," the shopkeeper said, eyes as wide as golfballs, "you have the golden ticket! You found Wonka's last golden Ticket! In my shop too!"

The whiny woman saw the cool to the touch piece of gold in my hands. She got up real close to me, 'I will give you two hundred dollars for it." Her warm breath brushed up against my face, causing my nose to wrinkle at the smell of garlic on her breath..

Then the... eh dirt hit the fan.

"Miss," a man yelled, "I will give you five hundred dollars," then as if to make the deal sweeter he added, "and a new bike. Ehh?"

A bike, I frowned, A helling bike? How old am I seven?

More offers were flung at me, until a man with short black hair and a pair of thin rimmed glasses offered, "7000*** pounds," in an assertive voice. I looked at him, Should I take it? I mused, I mean it would give my family enough money for a long time... and no more cabbage.

I opened my mouth to accept, when the shopkeeper shouted,"Leave the girl alone," the taking a pause to look at me, he said, "Now run home. Run home and don't stop."

I was so shocked I listened to what he said, and fled from the store in a hurry, leaving the amazing offer behind me.

One problem though... I freaking hate running.

End of Chapter One: Lampposts and Golden Tickets.

Well that's my second chapter, I feel like I am going a bit too fast with the pace, but I realy want to get the movie arc out of the way, cause well, writing a story that is based on something is just no fun. But hopefully you enjoyed it! Till next time,

Royal 3

*= about 15 dollars

**=about 300 pounds

***= about 10000 dollars