Jean leaned on the counter, watching a mote of dust float lazily through the air. No one had come to the shop all day, and she had imagined what it must look like inside Wonka's chocolate factory ten different ways with all of the time she had on her hands.

Earlier that day, the last golden ticket was found by a man in Paraguay. Now no one wanted to see another piece of chocolate. This was good for Jean's muscles, which were tired of carrying boxes of Wonka Bars back and forth, but was not good for store profits. Somehow, Bill's store and Bill's store alone managed to stay ahead of demand and actually have enough Wonka Bars for everyone who came in, while other stores were closing, or selling out just as a new shipments came in. She sincerely hoped that her little brother hadn't caught wind of the end of the contest yet. Their family was very poor, and this contest had revived that glimmer of imagination in his eyes. He had even written a letter to Willy Wonka with a list detailing candies that Wonka should invent. There were marzipan molars for Grandma Josephine for when she forgets her false teeth, licorice shoelaces for their mother, and marshmallow pillows for Grandpa George. He had written a request for every family member, but he hadn't let his sister see what he had asked for her. At the end of his letter, all he had asked for himself was a Wonka Bar to share with Mr. Wonka. Their family was poor, very poor, and while other children were opening bars by the dozen, her brother had only gotten to open two. She had been closely watching the contest, and knew that her kind and generous brother deserved a ticket more than any of the other spoiled children who had found tickets.

The chime on the door jingled as her brother walked in. From his dejected face, Jean could tell he already knew about the last ticket. Jean tried to smile, but she knew that it must look fake. "Done with the papers?" He came up to the counter and nodded without saying a word. From out of his pocket, he grabbed a big shiny dollar coin and handed it to Jean. "Where did you get this?"

"Someone dropped it and it fell in the drain. Could I have a Scrumdidlyumptious bar?"

"Sure." She pulled one out from behind the counter and handed him the candy. Charlie pulled off the wrapper as if he had never had a bar of Chocolate before, and began stuffing it into his face. "Your going to get a stomchache, Chalie! Slow down and actually taste the chocolate."

"Come on, Jean. Stop moping around and help me get these out on the shelves." Bill had appeared from the back with a big box of Wonka Bars, just shipped in.

Jean complacently came over to help. "Why? The competition is over."

"Yes, now we don't have to keep hiding them in the back." Bill looked at the Bucket siblings as Jean began to arrange the chocolate in a pleasant pattern on the shelf and sighed. They had both gotten so excited, and he knew that her family didn't have the best situation. The search for the tickets had given them something more to hope and dream about, even if it was just for awhile. "You know, you can still go watch the contest winners enter the factory. And I bet once he's given the contest winners their tour, he'll open the factory and let people tour occasionally."

Jean looked over at him. He was trying to cheer her up, and he was hoping that she would take the bait. Jean realized this, and although she wasn't really in the mood, she indulged him. "I don't think that sounds like him."

"Doesn't sound like him? You've never even met the man. How would you know what he would and wouldn't do?"

She smiled a little to herself as she turned back to the shelf. "It's just that I've heard so many stories these past few weeks, I feel like I've met him. Of course, I realize that the more grandiose tales must be fake."

"I bet you'd be surprised at how many are actually true."

"And how would you know? You've never met him." Charlie giggled and Bill just shrugged and broke down the cardboard box the candies had been in as Jean arranged the last few bars on the shelf. "But I have heard some weird stories. Like how he built a palace of chocolate, but it melted in the sun, all these strange candies he's invented, even that he opened his factory when he was still in his teens!"

"And you should hear some of the fantastic stories Grandpa Joe tells! I think Mr. Wonka must be the most incredible person in the world." Interjected Charlie. Jean smiled at her brother. She knew her grandfather and Charlie just thought the world of Mr. Wonka. And if she was honest, she did too.

Bill was glad to see the siblings returning to their old selves. "And what does Jean Bucket think about Mr. Wonka?"

She shrugged her shoulders and tried to seem indifferent. "I don't know."

Just then, one of the candy suppliers for the shop walked in. Jean thought his large coat and scarf that covered him from head to toe were a little extreme for the early fall weather, but paid little mind to it as Bill went over to him and the two went into the back of the shop. "You know, Jean, mum doesn't like lying."

"I suppose it's a good thing I don't lie then." Jean responded, raising a questioning eyebrow to her brother's strange string of conversation.

"Yes you did. You just said you don't know what to think of Mr. Wonka. Last night you said you thought he was handsome."

"No I did not!" Jean felt her face getting red. "I said I imagine that he would be handsome, which is a totally different thing." With all of the stories Grandpa Joe had been telling them, she may have started to develop a little crush on the famous chocolatier, dreaming and putting together an image of what she thought he looked like.

"Jean and Mr. Wonka sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

"Charlie!" Jean reached over the counter and gave her brother a shove.

"What's all this ruckus about?" Bill came out from the back with his visitor. The stranger seemed to survey the scene for a bit, before leaving the store.

"Nothing. Charlie was just being an impish little brother, and he was just about to head home to start his homework." She gave her brother a pointed glance, and he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Before I go, can I have a Wonka Bar? To give to Grandpa Joe?"

"Sure." Charlie was about to use his own money from his job, but Jean told him to keep it for himself, and bought the chocolate with her own earnings. She went to grab a bar off of the shelf, but Bill stopped her.

"Don't take any off of the display. Here." Bill pulled a Wonka Bar out of his coat pocket. "This was from a previous shipment, use this one before you start selling the new ones."

"You've been carrying it around in your pocket?" Bill shrugged, before going to refill the gumball machine. Jean shook her head at her employer's zaniness, before handing Charlie his prize. "Here you go, one Wonka Bar. And make sure you actually taste the chocolate this time."

"Fine, sis." Charlie waved goodbye as he went to the door, only to have someone on the other side open it first and smack him in the face. Jean rushed over to Charlie to make sure that he was alright as a new wave of customers came bustling in.

A woman ran up to the counter and smacked a stack of bills on the table. "I want all of your Wonka bars!"

Bill rushed over to help the woman. "Whatever for? The competition is over."

"No, it isn't. The last one from Paraguay was a fake. He forged his ticket. There's still one left!"

Charlie looked down at the Wonka Bar in his hands, then back up at his sister. "Let's open it, together."

"No, Charlie you open it. It's your Wonka Bar."

"Come on." He placed half of the bar in her hands. "We'll each open a side. Ready?" Jean nodded her head. "One. Two. Three." They ripped it open. Both Jean and Charlie stopped breathing for a second as they processed what they were seeing. There, all nice and neat inside of the wrapper, was the last golden ticket. Charlie slipped it out of the wrapping, and held it in his hands, a huge smile on his face. He had found it! The last golden ticket!

"Look! The boy has it! He's found the last ticket!"

They were suddenly surrounded on all sides, people pushing and pulling. One person even tried to grab it out of Charlie's hands. "Jean! Go! Take Charlie and run home, and don't stop until you get there! You there, leave them alone! Go now! Run!"

Jean helped her little brother to his feet and began running as fast as she could. She kept a vice-like grip on his hand as they sped along. They cut through alleyways and side streets to avoid people. Glancing behind her, Jean saw that her brother had the biggest smile she had ever seen. He didn't look like he saw anything around him, like his head and his heart were up in the clouds, and nothing anyone could do would bring him down. Apparently Jean was feeling this way too, because she rounded a corner too fast and ran into someone headlong.

She stumbled back a little before she was able to regain her balance. "I'm sorry I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." She was ready to take off again when she looked up to see a face she thought looked familiar.

"No apologizes necessary. I congratulate you. May I introduce myself? Arthur Slugworth. President of Slugworth Chocolates Inc."

The man was tall, and towered over Jean by at least a good foot. He wore all black, and if it was dark out, Jean would have had a hard time trying to see him. He had strange octagonal glasses that seemed to slowly be slipping off of his nose. The most distinctive thing was his face. On the left side of his face, a long gash ran down, mutilating his cheek. Behind her, she felt Charlie grab ahold of her skirt as he hid behind her, scared of the man. It took her a moment, then Jean realized why he looked familiar. "You were there, on the news, when all the other contestants won. You were serving dinner at the Gloops, and you held the microphone during Teevee's interview."

He raised one eyebrow, slightly surprised. "Clever girl."

He took a step forward, and the Buckets took a step back. "Don't come any closer."

Instead of putting up a fight like she had expected, he respectfully took a step back. "Listen carefully, because I'm going to make you very rich indeed. Mr. Wonka is working on a fantastic invention. The Everlasting Gobstopper. If he succeeds, he'll ruin me. I want you to get just one Everlasting Gobstopper and bring it to me so I can find the secret formula. Your reward will be 10,000 of these." He pulled a large stack a bills out of his coat, flipping through them with his thumb. "Think it over, will you? A new house for your family … food and comfort for the rest of their lives." Jean scuttled past him, grabbed Cherlie's wrist tight, then ran away without saying anything more to the creepy man. The thought of having her family live without poverty was tantalizing, but how much he knew about her family began to terrify her. "And don't forget the name … Everlasting Gobstopper." he called to them while they retreated.

She kep running and running until she felt like her lungs would burst. As they sat on the ground to catch their breath, Jean watched to make sure Slugworth wasn't following them. "How did he know where we were, and that we would have the last ticket?" Jean looked to her brother for a response, but he was staring at the ticket as if he were in a trance. Forgetting their frightening altercation for a moment, she scooted next to her brother and gave him a huge hug, which he whole heartedly returned. He deserved to find that ticket, more so than any other kid in the entire world. He wanted it more. He needed it more. They sat there in silence for a few mommens, catching their breath before taking off for home again. They had gotten their second wind and it felt like they were flying. Jean couldn't help but sing the rest of the way home. "I've got a golden ticket! I've got a golden sparkle in my eye! So don't, don't, don'tcha pinch me Charlie, I don't want to wake up from this golden dream!"